I'm back, I'm refreshed, and I'm ready to party. Shots of Patron, anyone?

So many thanks to LouderThanSirens and Momma Bear for being kick-ass betas.

Thanks to my twilighted junior validation beta jajo and her partner in crime RoseArcadia.

Thank you to every one of you who talked to me about your alzheimer's experiences, and those who just dropped me a note. Once again I'm reminded that the people in this community are of stellar character.

Disclaimer: I don't own, I just like to make Lauren Mallory fun.

A few mornings after our brush with the law, Rose, Alice and I take the boat over to Mrs. Mallory's after breakfast, tying it up to her dock, and walking up the long flight of stairs to her cabin. She's on the deck smoking, binoculars next to her on a small table.

"Mrs. M!" we chime when she comes into view.

"Hello, girls," she trills, inviting us to sit with her. Her view is wonderful, and I'm amazed at how much of our daily activities she must be able to see.

She hustles inside, her polyester pants swishing.

She comes back with a bottle of Veuve, popping off the cork and pouring four glasses.

"To summer!" she toasts, and we clink glasses and drink.

Settling back into her chair, she asks, "So, you busted your fellas out of the clink, eh?"

We nod, laughing.

"Who did they get in the fight with?" she asks curiously.

Rose fills her in on the details and Mrs. M groans, her reaction similar to ours yesterday. "Those damn kids are such a pain in my ass. They used to steal my lawn gnomes when they were drunk, so I bought a shotgun and started fertilizing with manure!" She laughs her infectious laugh.

We spend a few hours with her. She tells us about her deceased husband and how they retired here together, but he passed away just months after they moved. She opted to stay, but her life here is often lonely. She doesn't have kids and she is an only child, so she doesn't have many surviving family members.

Despite all this, she's not looking for pity, reassuring us that she loves living here and that our antics keep her entertained all summer.

Rose asks her why she's always so mean to Jasper, and she thinks for a second. "I guess it's because I have an old-lady crush on him. It's like throwing rocks at someone on the playground, but I'm eighty, so I think the rock-throwing would be frowned upon."

I love this woman.

We promise to come back soon, and invite her to watch fireworks with us on the Fourth of July.

"Hey, girls!" she hollers at us as we descend the steps. "Next time bring those hoodlums with you! I've got a few classic cars in the garage that they might want to take a look at." She winks and walks back inside.

When we get back, Emmett and Edward are helping Jasper clean out our boathouse, something he promised Carlisle and Charlie he would do this summer. They're unearthing broken boat motors and ancient, rusted tools, laying them out in the sun. With all of them in jeans and boots and work gloves, it looks like one of the old black and white photos that we have in our photo albums upstairs.

Jasper is playing doo-wop from the speakers. Mrs. M would approve.

Edward's wife beater is clinging to him, dirt smearing his arms. I run up to him when we get off the boat, jumping in his arms. He kisses me hard, pressing me against his chest. My white t-shirt is going to be ruined and I don't care even a little bit.

"Come upstairs with me," I whisper into his ear.

"I promised Jasper I would help him finish this," he whispers back, his hand resting on the back of my neck. "Plus, I'm all dirty."

"I like you dirty," I reply, smiling up at him. His eye still a little swollen but the bruise is starting to fade. He puts me down, grinning, and smacks my ass when I walk away.

Rose, Alice, and I plot on the way upstairs, and return in bikinis and sunglasses with ice-cold beers for us and the boys. We aim our deck chairs towards them so we can watch them work, and spend the day enjoying the show. So does Mrs. M, who raises her glass to us when we wave at her, her binoculars in place.

Everything is good. Really good, even, but the Fourth of July looms in front of me, the date undeniably significant.

Edward doesn't say anything about it specifically, but I know he's edgy about it too. Every time someone brings it up he stiffens, even though I can tell he's trying to act normal. The state of mind that I existed in a few weeks ago - shit, even a few days ago - seems to have been replaced with tension and insecurity.

I can't figure out if it's because we've been messing around or what. Sex or not, we're definitely getting more and more intimate. I feel good during and after we're together, but the second he leaves the room I get a sickening feeling in my stomach that feels all too familiar. It sticks around now, abating only when he's getting me off. It's a fucked up cycle that I can't begin to stop. Or maybe I could stop it, but actually voicing the words to him would make it real, and I don't want it to be.

The whole family will be here for the holiday. I can't wait to see Carlisle and Esme again, and of course Charlie, but I wish I had more time. I wake up really early the morning of the fourth with a lump in my throat. It's still dark out.

Edward slept over again, sneaking in after Charlie went to bed. It seems like overkill to me, but Edward insisted, wanting to get back in my dad's good graces.

Knowing Charlie that could take a few years.

He got here yesterday, but he watches the space between us, his eyes glued to Edward's hand in mine, or his arm around my shoulder. I told my dad over the phone that we were...trying to do whatever the hell we're doing, but it seems that hearing it and seeing it are two completely different things.

Charlie is positively radiating disapproval, and the story about the arrest doesn't help. I make a mental note to talk to him about it today before rolling over to look at Edward's face on the pillow next to me.

A lot of the time while he sleeps, he frowns and rocks back and forth like he's concentrating really hard on something, resembling a frustrated little kid. It's rare that the grimace fades and he sleeps peacefully. I asked him once last summer what he dreams about, but he made a joke out of it, referencing puppies and rainbows.

I watch him now, his lips pursing and his eyes moving behind his lids. I've never wanted to be in someone's head so much. This day...this date...is really fucking with me. I need more than anything to feel like we're connected, and not just by his tongue on my clit, although that is really nice...

I watch him for almost an hour, memorizing the tiny freckles sprinkled across his nose, and the tiny lines by his eyes from smiling. He has a small white scar above his eyebrow, and his stubble is growing in evenly.

I hear Charlie get up. I listen to him shuffle around, and a motor starts a few minutes later. He must be going fishing.

When Edward finally opens his eyes he jumps back, startled. I think he must have been surprised to find me inches away from his face, staring intently at him. He inhales sharply, his eyes widening until he gets his bearings.

"You scared the shit out of me," he breathes, his body relaxing. He flings his arm over my waist, pulling me into his chest.

"Sorry. I was just watching you and thinking," I mumble against his skin.

The tone of my voice must alarm him, because he backs up quickly and takes in my expression.

"What's wrong?" he asks, looking really sad, and a little fearful. I sigh, rolling on to my back to stare at the ceiling. His warm palm rests on my stomach.

I swallow hard. "It's the fourth of July," I whisper, still staring at the white expanse above me.

He sighs, shifting so he's propped up on one elbow. I turn my face slightly to look at him. His expression is wary.

"I know," he says slowly. "What...I don't know what to say," he admits.

"I think I'm just afraid that...all this is going to go away. The last week has been so good, but I keep feeling...like...fuck," I stutter.

I curse my inability to just say what the hell I mean. I hate petty misunderstandings and there is no reason that we should continue any of this without being completely honest and on the same page.

I am going to suck it the fuck up. Like, now.

I sit up and turn to face him, crossing my legs. He mirrors my position, still seeming cautious.

"Every time we fuck around, when you leave the room I feel like shit. I'm thinking it may be some residual abandonment crap, which is valid, but I just need you to know, because it's messing with me," I blurt, the words tumbling out of my mouth quickly. He looks down, blinking, but doesn't respond.

"I need to know where this is going to end up. I know that's almost, like, impossible for you to know, but I need you to tell me what you want."

He opens his mouth to say words that I've already heard, so I put my finger to his lips. "I know you want me. I know. But what about when summer's over? What then? Are you going to go back to your life and I'll go back to mine?" After I get the hard questions out, I lean back a little, watching his reaction.

His bright smile throws me off and I frown, not getting it.

"I want us to be together," he says quietly, moving closer so our knees are touching and he can put his hands on my thighs. "I want you to move to Texas."

"What?" I ask quickly, my body tensing.

"I want you to move to Texas," he repeats firmly.

I am suddenly torn in opposite directions, two halves of my brain screaming at each other. I hop off the bed, pacing back and forth a few times before stopping and taking a deep breath. I open my mouth, but I can't form a sentence yet.

Holding a finger up for him to wait, I close my eyes, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

I'm enraged at the implication that my life in LA isn't important enough for him to consider moving for me, but my inner romantic is swooning. The two are not meeting in the middle, and my emotions are swinging wildly back and forth.

I look at him. He hasn't moved at all, his expression is careful again.

"You just expect me to move? Just like that. To a different state." I'm incredulous.

"Well, no. I know we may need more time-"

I interrupt, "Did you even consider moving, or is it just me who has to give everything up?" I snap, moving to pace again. Before I can, he reaches forward and grabs my wrist, pulling me back to face him.

"Let me finish," he says softly "I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing with school and football...I have some decisions to make that will affect where I end up, but I know I can't leave this season. I could commute to see you every week like Emmett does, but I want to live with you," he says, swallowing audibly. He moves closer, one hand on my neck. I feel tears forming in my eyes, but don't blink them away.

He whispers now, our faces inches apart. "I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to fall asleep with you every night. I want to make you happy. That's what I want."

I don't make any move towards him. All I can do is breathe.

"I need to think about it," I say, trying not to show my trepidation. His answering grin is wide, and he nods, understanding, kissing me with his smiling mouth.

I feel a few more broken parts of me heal together, hopeful. He pulls me onto the bed and he holds me until Charlie gets back from fishing.

I roll out of bed reluctantly when I hear him banging around in the kitchen, knowing that it's a subtle hint that my dad thinks it's time for me to get up.

"I'm going to brush my teeth. You?" I ask, my hand on the doorknob. He's out of bed when I look back at him.

"Yeah... I'm going out the window. Your dad scares the shit out of me." he says, sliding the screen up.

"Are you serious? That's so, like...a fucking movie," I laugh, walking over to him. "I like it, though. Sneaking around is hot," I giggle when he grabs my ass and pulls me in for a kiss, our lips closed against the morning breath.

"I'll see you later, but I thought maybe you would want to spend the morning with your dad," he says, running his fingers over my face.

"I do. Thanks. I'll see you later." I watch him climb easily out of the window, looking back to smirk at me before jogging into the woods.

I lower the screen, leaving the bedroom to brush my teeth, pee and make some coffee. Charlie is frying fish in the kitchen, his favorite breakfast. He looks me over suspiciously.

"Morning," he grumbles, looking back at the pan in front of him.

I walk around the counter and put an arm around his waist in a half-hug, forcing my way under his arm so it's over my shoulder. He softens, kissing my head and nodding towards the coffee.

I sit across from him while he cooks, asking him questions about work and Washington. His answers are short and distracted. I can tell there's something he's not saying.

It doesn't take him long to come out with it. "So what's up with you and this Edward guy?" he grunts, looking stern.

"Well, as I told you, we're trying to work some stuff out," I explain, looking him in the eye.

"Even after...?" he fades off, not needing to finish the question.

"Even after," I state.

He rubs his jaw, his beard starting to grow in. He doesn't like to shave when he's at the lake; he says it's too much work. "Listen, kid, I'm not going to try to pretend that I understand what happened, but I just want you to know that he probably doesn't deserve you."

I'm temped to roll my eyes, but instead I just smile at him.

"Oh, and what happened to Mike?" he asks too casually.

"We're just friends, dad." This time I do roll my eyes, but I know my face is red.

"Good. Too many damn tattoos on that kid," he states, shaking his head.

I laugh, but I'm not done talking about Edward. "So...can you try to be nice to him?"

Charlie looks affronted. "I'm nice," he scoffs quietly.

"Dude. Dad," I say seriously, "you hardly speak to him. He said hello yesterday and you grunted at him," I reason. My tone is light and joking, but his face still flushes.

"Alright," he grumbles, frowning.

I smile a big cheesy grin at him until he looks at me. He tries to look stern, but when he turns around to get a plate out of the cupboard I can see that he's hiding a smile.

With Charlie I don't need to reiterate the point. He'll do his best to be nice from now on.

I move on to the Fourth of July plans, and what we're going to do for the rest of his stay. I follow him around all morning while he fixes random things around the cabin, oiling the squeaky door hinges and checking the smoke detectors.

He asks me about the fishing while he's on the kitchen floor tinkering with a leaky pipe under the sink. I have to remind him that I only fish with him, but suggest that we go while he's here.

He agrees happily and we're quiet for a minute. He sits up, wiping his hands on a rag.

"You should bring Edward out with us when we go," he says, looking up at where I'm sitting on a stool, swinging my legs. The motion slows for a moment while I process this, and then I give him another big smile.

"Thanks, Pops."

I really miss being around him. We used to talk like this all the time in the afternoon when I was young. After my mom died, it was the time of day that both of us seemed to cope the best. When the light started to fade, the fact that we were on our own became that much more apparent.

My mom was a great cook. The kitchen seemed empty and sad after she died, so even though I knew how to make a few things, I did everything to avoid being in the kitchen. After a few months of eating take-out every night, Charlie started learning to cook himself. My palette is well acquainted with charred meatloaf and lumpy alfredo sauce. There was a fish stew incident that I can't bear to mention.

He did the best he could though, and got pretty good over the years.

We've healed so well, and stuck together through it all, that sometimes I forget about how bad it was. Without Rose, Jasper, Carlisle, and this place, my life could have gone a very different direction.

Alice, Rose and I lay on the beach while the boys collect wood for the bonfire tonight; we can hear them laughing and yelling in the woods.

Carlisle and Esme show up after lunch, walking across the beach holding hands. We jump up when we see them and run over to say hello. Esme hugs me tightly, and I find myself wondering what Edward has told her about the last few weeks.

Judging from the teary smile she gives me, they've been talking.

Rose tells the two of them about the plan for tonight, and they're both surprised to hear that Mrs. Mallory will be making an appearance.

"I just didn't see that one coming," Carlisle muses, looking over at her cabin as Jasper comes out of the woods with an arm full of wood. He puts the logs on the pile and walks over, pausing to kiss Esme on the cheek, throwing his arm over Carlisle's shoulder.

Carlisle grins at him, but sobers when he notices the bruises on Jasper's face.

"What happened, J?" He asks, backing up to get a better look at him.

"It's not a big deal, dad, we just got in a little fight with some of the locals," Jasper mumbles, his usual smooth demeanor gone in the presence of his dad.

"Yeah, but the bar's not pressing charges..." Rose starts, and then fades off, realizing what she just said. Jasper glares at her and she makes an apologetic face.

"The bar?" Carlisle's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he turns to look coolly at Jasper. "Did I miss a few birthdays or something, Jasper? Last time I checked you couldn't get into a bar." He watches him closely; J knows he's busted.

Edward and Emmett walk out of the woods, drop more wood onto the pile and walk over, smiling at Esme. It takes both of them a moment to register the look on her face, but the second they do they their expressions morph into those of little boys in trouble. They scan all of us, quickly knowing that the jig is up.

Emmett walks towards Esme "Mom, I'm so sorry, but you know I drink, and Rose talked the cops out of giving us minors-"

"You got arrested?" Esme gasps, glaring at the two of them. She softens when Emmett gets closer, though, reaching to turn his head so she can see his cheek. Edward walks up and she gives him the same treatment, shaking her head.

Charlie comes back from fishing then, and is all too happy to stand and look disapprovingly at the boys while Carlisle and Esme get the whole story.

Charlie and Carlisle stand next to each other with their arms crossed while Esme sits, her eyes on her sons. They very rarely get parental on us, but we do sometimes push the envelope enough to warrant a nice, long lecture. This is looking to be one of those times.

Edward and Emmett squirm under Esme's gaze. For some reason, this makes me really miss my mom. I would give anything to have her here, even for this.

When Jasper gets to the part of the story where we were too drunk to drive, I look apologetically at Charlie, who looks disapproving but not angry. He's had a day to deal with this news, so I think he's probably just happy that we were smart enough to find a ride and not get behind the wheel.

Everyone is silent after Jasper's done telling the tale. Mercifully, he leaves out the sordid details about the incident with Ben behind the co-op.

"Now, I don't condone physical violence, but..." Charlie looks at Edward, "I can't be too angry about you defending my daughter's honor, and my niece's for that matter, especially against those idiots." Charlie smiles at me and then Rose, who beams back at him, but his expression turns stern again. "That said, you know the rules: drink responsibly, and if you're drunk, stay the hell away from my boat."

I suppress a smile. It always comes back to fishing with Charlie. We nod and look appropriately apologetic until his stern look starts to soften.

Esme pulls Edward and Emmett aside, though, speaking to them more firmly than Charlie and Carlisle did.

Rose steps between our dads, linking her arms through theirs, leading them towards the steps. She needs some heavy lifting done upstairs, and I hear them both groan when she suggests that they give her a hand.

Jasper grabs Alice's hand and they follow.

I sit across the beach alone, waiting for Esme to be done talking to the boys. When they walk back towards me, Esme's eyes are a little red, and she sidles up next to me, putting her arm around my shoulder.

"Would you mind helping me make some food for tonight, Bella?" she asks, smiling brightly at me despite the fact that she looks like she's been crying.

I nod, smiling, turning around to give Edward a look as we start down the beach.

"Moooom!" he whines. Esme and I glance at each other, snickering.

"Finish up down here and then see what else Carlisle needs you to do!" she shouts back.

Rose has really relaxed her stance on food preparation this summer, not minding when Esme offers to bring appetizers for tonight. It's a testament to how much she really loves Emmett, I think.

In her huge kitchen, Esme pulls out the ingredients for artichoke dip while I get out the bowls and dishes that she gestures to.

I want to ask her if she's okay, her eyes still red, but I wait for her to say something, not wanting to pry.

When we're well into assembling the dip, she finally asks me.

"So, Bella," she glances at me before turning back to the counter, "how are things going with you and Edward?"

I take a breath, a small smile on my face. "Pretty good. I mean, we're working out some things..."

"Are you going to move to Texas?" she asks quickly, failing to hide her excitement.

I laugh, startled. "Honestly, he just brought it up this morning...so I'm not sure yet."

She puts down the bowl in her hands, turning to face me. She sighs and looks past me for a second, seeming like she's trying to come to a decision.

"This is going to sound stupid, and I'm probably crossing about a thousand lines here, but I want you to know how great he is."

I nod in agreement.

"I know what you're thinking. I'm his mother and I have to think that, but what I mean is that he's great now. It hasn't always been like this, Bella. I'm sure you're far too aware of that." She sighs again, frowning. "I'm sure you've heard things about their father."

"Very little," I admit cautiously. My stomach is uneasy.

She pauses, glancing at my face, and then looks away. "He really wasn't there much, which is good, being that he's, for lack of a better word, an asshole...sorry," she says, giving me a small smile. I shrug and smile back at her. "But they missed out on a lot. I think the worst thing was watching them look at other families..." She swallows hard, not able to finish that thought. "They realized that their father wasn't 'normal' at some point, and Edward started acting out, which got worse as he got older; staying out all night, drinking...fighting. It got better when he got into football, but even though that straightened him out, he's always seemed unfulfilled," she pauses, wiping her eyes "Emmett spent most of his time looking out for Edward. Emmett's always been a little...sunnier...than Edward." She laughs at that. I smile; it's true.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't just lay all this on you, but you should know that I've never seen him like this. I hope you'll give him a chance to show you how different he is. That's why I was upset today. He's been so good, so the fighting really got to me."

She stops, watching for my reaction. I fidget, taking it all in.

"Thank you," I say finally. I don't know what else to say.

She pulls me into another tight embrace, wiping tears away again when we break away from each other.

"Look at me! I'm a mess!" she laughs, dabbing at the mascara under her eyes.

She takes a minute to collect herself, turning back to the food spread over the counter.

"Did you know that you're the only girl that he's dated that I've met?"

I frown, "It doesn't seem like he did a lot of dating, per se."

I'm surprised that she laughs. "True, but Bella, not only are you the only girl I've met, but you're really the only girl that he's ever talked about." She glances at me, where I'm looking down at the mess in front of me. "He calls me for advice now. He calls to ask what he should cook you for dinner. He calls when he does something idiotic and needs to know how to make it up to you. It's...a first."

She looks so happy that it's my turn to get choked up.

"Okay enough of this. Now? I want to have real girl talk." She grabs a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and pours us each a glass, allowing me time to get myself together.

"So, tell me everything about your uncle. I'm dying to get some blackmail stories," she gushes, leaning forward to clink my glass before letting me begin.

Edward walks in an hour later, leaning in the doorway to watch Esme and I clean up the mess we made.

"Come here, beautiful boy!" she calls, and he walks to her, rolling his eyes, but clearly loving her attention. She complains that he needs a haircut, and asks whether he's taking the supplements his doctor recommend...and a whole bunch of other mom stuff that makes my heart hurt. He dwarfs her when she wraps her arms around his waist.

Before she leaves to get ready to go over to Rose's, she gives me a huge smile, reaching out to squeeze my hand.

"I just love her, Edward," she says, leaving us in the kitchen.

I shake my head, looking at the door she walked out of. "She's so amazing."

"I know," he says, studying my face. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just nice to have a mom around, I guess." I avoid his eyes, feeling exposed.

He steps forward and lifts my arms up around his neck, settling his hands around my waist. "I'm sorry."

I'm confused. "For what?"

"About your mom," he looks at the floor, his voice low.

I purse my lips, taking a deep breath. He meets my eyes. "Thanks." I mean it, and when I kiss him, I mean that too.

Esme leaves a few minutes later, asking us to bring a few things when we walk over. I lay on his bed while he showers. I run through the day in my head, wishing I could write it down before I forget anything.

A thought occurs to me and I reach above me, pulling the lumpy green scarf out from under one of the pillows. I rub the soft yarn on my cheek, happy that he really does sleep with it under his pillow, even though he hasn't been sleeping here lately.

When I look up he's standing in the doorway, his hands on the door frame above him. He's shirtless and his jeans hang low on his hips. He's watching me, his expression soft, almost sad.

It's my turn to ask what's wrong. "Are you okay?"

He shrugs, walking over and standing next to the side of the bed that I'm laying on. I press one palm to his flat stomach and slide my fingers down, hooking them in the waistband of his boxer briefs. His muscles tighten, and his breath quickens. He bites his lower lip, looking down at me with dark eyes.

I slide the backs of my fingers from one hipbone to the other, brushing them against the smooth head of his cock, watching him tense and relax. I'm over games, but I don't mind teasing him. He's the one who wants to wait, and while he's probably right in his reasoning, I think I'm going to enjoy making it a little...harder for him.

I drop my hand and he exhales a breath while I get up on my knees facing him and press my lips to his. He grabs my waist roughly, pulling me closer to press against his bare chest, running hands up my back under my shirt.

He's warm and hard, and I could stay here, but he pulls back, reaching behind me to grab the scarf, looping it around my neck. He runs a finger down my cheek and into the yarn, rubbing it between his fingers. I know I'll keep it on for the rest of the night.

We grab the food Esme left and walk to Rose's. My heart is light, and I've never seen a more beautiful sunset.

Lemons coming! Can you feel it?