Chapter Four: "Cookies" Bella's POV

"Oof!" I exclaimed as a flash of red and blue ran into me, wrapping arms around my legs. A very tiny Spiderman had just tackled me in a big hug. "Uh, hi, Spiderman. Have you seen my son?"

Emerson giggled and pulled the mask off. "It's me, Mommy! Isn't my new costume cool?"

"Very cool," I said slowly. "Where did you get it?"

"Emmett," he explained happily, pointing to the rather large Green Goblin that sat on Rosalie's couch.

Emmett removed the mask and waved at me. "Hey, Bella."

"Emmett," I sighed, "you're really sweet, but you can't keep buying him stuff!"

"Of course I can," Emmett replied, yanking at the collar of his bulky costume. "I already had the Goblin costume from Halloween, but I needed a superhero to fight."

Rosalie emerged from the kitchen. "What?" I asked sarcastically. "You're not dressed as Mary Jane Watson?"

Rose crinkled up her nose. "Kirsten Dunst? Are you kidding me? I'm so much prettier."

"I agree," Emmett interjected.

"Suck-up!" Emerson shouted before bodyslamming Emmett. "She's mine!"

Emmett chortled and tossed Emerson over his back, holding on to him by his feet. "I think I need to squash a spider..."

"No!" Emerson begged. "Mom! Aunt Rosalie! Help!"

Rose and I giggled before I went to retrieve my son. I picked him up and cradled him against me. He was so big and heavy. "Come on, Spidey. You have to go clean your room."

"Aw, Mom, why?" he grumbled.

"Because Emmy and her dad are coming over tonight," I reminded him. "And I have to whip up a lasagna and three-hundred chocolate chip cookies, so don't complain. Come on, you can drive."

"Really?" he asked, his mouth open and eyes wide.

I giggled. "Sure-when you're sixteen."

"You're mean, Mommy."

I put him down and playfully swatted at him. "But you love me. Go change into your clothes. It's freezing outside."

Emerson walked toward the bathroom.

"So?" Rosalie smirked at me. "Are you excited about your first date in five years?"

"Way to make me sound pathetic," I rolled my eyes. "And it's not a date. It's a play date."

"You aren't going to wear your scrubs, are you?" she asked in horror.

"And smell like Novacaine?" I replied. "No, thanks. I don't know what I'll wear. I'm not putting much thought into it."

"Bella," she groaned. "Let me go grab you an outfit from my closet."

"Rose..."

She ran off before I could disagree.

"You might as well give up," Emmett told me. "She's as tenacious as they come."

"Believe me, I know," I replied. "When I moved to Washington, I was already pregnant. Rosalie was my first friend and definitely stood up for me when kids were cruel."

"That sounds like her," he grinned. "Beauty, brains, and a ballbuster, all in one."

"That's a very apt description," I agreed. "Oh, hey, thanks for hanging out with Emerson. It really means a lot."

"It's no problem," he assured me. "Emerson is the coolest kid I've seen in a long time. He's a trip."

"That he is," I agreed just as Rosalie came running to me, holding a blue sweater and a gold belt.

"Wear this with jeans," she commanded me. "Put the belt over the sweater."

"Thanks," I said, knowing better than to argue with her. I called down the hall, "Emerson, sweetie, the clock is ticking!"

He finally came out. I helped him zip his coat and straighten his hat. After my son thanked Emmett and Rose for a fun afternoon, we left for my house.

I had already thrown the lasagna together the night before and frozen it, so I just popped it into the oven with a pan of garlic bread. I had also bought the ingredients for the cookies, and I arranged them on the counter.

I peeked in on Emerson and saw him responsibly put his toys and books away. After that, I went and changed, following Rosalie's directions. She was a genius, of course. The cowl-neck sweater was extremely flattering and the blue was pretty with my pale skin. I pulled my hair down, letting my curls fall around my shoulder, and brushed it out. I even added some mascara, blush, and lipstick, which probably revealed just how big my crush on Edward was. I usually despised applying makeup.

I had given Edward directions to my house, so after I ran through the apartment and tidied up, I just sat and waited. Emerson looked excited and impatient; he didn't often have friends over. Parents really could be cruel…

"C'mere," I told him, sitting on the couch.

He walked to me and stood between my legs.

I pulled him to me, kissing his black hair. "I don't get to love on you enough," I complained lightly, rubbing his back. "You're getting too big and old for Mommy, huh?"

He smiled. "Mom..."

"Oh, humor me," I rolled my eyes, kissing his cheek and blowing a raspberry into his neck.

He giggled. "You're getting lipstick on me!"

"I'm sorry," I replied, licking my thumb and using it to wipe the makeup off his skin. "Do I look okay?"

"You look pretty," he promised me.

"Thank you, little man," I replied, nuzzling my nose in his raven hair.

The doorbell rang then, and we both shot to the door. I peered out the peephole before opening the door. Yep, it was the Cullens.

"Hi," I said brightly. "Come on in. It's frigid out there!"

"Thank you," Edward replied, ushering Emmy in. She wore a pink peacoat that looked similar to her father's black peacoat. As soon as they were inside, Edward stooped to unbutton his
daughter out of her coat.

"Come on, Emmy!" Emerson invited his friend. They ran into the living room "The closet is right here," I told Edward as he took his coat off, opening the door.

"Thanks," he said again as I helped him hang the coats up. "It's really nasty out there. Oh, by the way, this is for our lovely hostess." He held up a large plastic bowl.

"Oh, sweet," I said, taking it from him and peeking under the lid. It was a batch of delicious-looking brownies. "Wow, these look incredible."

"It's my mom's recipe, but Emmy and I made them."

"Thanks so much. Come on into to the kitchen. The lasagna is almost ready."

I walked into the kitchen and opened the oven. It was, indeed, almost ready.

"That smells delicious," he remarked as I straightened up and turned to look at him.

I smiled. "Thanks! How was your day?"

He cringed. "I very narrowly made a deadline and my article still sucked."

"What was the article on?" I prodded as I pulled out two glasses.

He blushed. "If you're that curious, why don't you buy this month's issue?"

I gave him a funny look. "Is it something awkward...?"

"It's something I don't know anything about, since I'm not a woman," he said dryly. "The editor-in-chief sometimes gets a little frazzled, to say the least, and he forgets that men don't know anything about…woman things."

I grinned. "Would you like iced tea, juice, or water?"

"Water is fine," he said. "So, just how many cookies are we talking?"

"Three-hundred," I said as I retrieved him a glass of water. "I have all of the ingredients. Do you want to start now, or until after we eat dinner?"

"You're the hostess," he smiled crookedly. "You decide. And that's a lot of ingredients." He leered at the counter full of sugar, flour, and butter.

I shrugged. "Grandma's recipe. She was big on the white flour and corn syrup."

I suddenly smelled a very rich aroma of tomatoes and cheese that was bordering on burnt. "Fudge!" I exclaimed, hurriedly pulling the lasagna out. Thank God it wasn't burnt...my hand was just burnt.

Edward chuckled lightly. "I see you have a small child's profanity as well."

"Very much so," I agreed, running to the sink. "Fudge, fishsticks, son-of-a-nutcracker, cheese and rice, tartar sauce..."

"I know tartar sauce is from Spongebob, but son-of-a-nutcracker?"

I ran some cold water over my burnt hand. "Yeah...it's from Elf, with Will Ferrell. Have you seen it?"

"I'm afraid not. Did you burn your hand?"

"Just a little."

He gave me an amused glance before grabbing the dishtowel off the counter and running to the fridge to put ice in it.

"Thanks," I said, my cheeks burning. I had never been clumsy in the kitchen. Why was I clumsy now?

Because Edward Cullen flusters you.

I mentally rolled my eyes at myself before going to the living room. Emerson and Emmy were playing with Emerson's plastic dinosaurs. "Hey, guys?" I caught their attention. "Dinner is ready."

"Come on," Emerson encouraged Emmy. "My mom's lasagna is the best."

I went back to the kitchen. "What will Emmy drink?"

"Juice is perfect," he replied.

I pulled some plates and glasses from the cabinet. "I'll let you get your plate and Emmy's plate. I don't know how much you guys eat."

"Mom," Emerson said as they walked into the kitchen, both grasping a dinosaur. "Can we watch The Land Before Time now?"

"After we eat, sweetie," I replied. "Edward is going to have to stay here for a while to help me make cookies." I gave my new friend a pointed glance.

He simply smiled. "It would be my honor. Emmy, how hungry are you, love?"

"Very hungry," the adorable little girl replied. "Guess what, Daddy! Emerson has a Comp-sog-nath-us!" She held up her very small dinosaur after carefully sounding out the big word.

"I'm not familiar with that one," Edward said apologetically. Smiling to myself, I poured glasses of juice for the kids.

"It was the size of a chicken," Emmy explained. "It ate bugs and tiny lizards. Not dinosaurs. Miss Bella, so you know what dinosaur means?"

"I don't think so," I beamed at her, already captivated by her charm. "And you can just call me Bella, sweetheart."

"It means terrible lizard," she told me excitedly as her daddy sat her at the table. "A man named Richard Owen made up that word. But the Comp-sog-nath-us didn't eat terrible lizards. He ate little bitty lizards, like on the Geico commercials."

Edward laughed quietly. "Do they play a lot of Geico commercials on National Geographic, sweet girl?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Grandpa told me about the Comp-sog-nath-us."

I sat Emerson next to Emmy and then took the spot next to Edward.

"This is so good, Mom," Emerson complimented me, already diving into his lasagna.

"Yeah, it is," Emmy agreed. "Bella, did you know that the dinosaur with the biggest brain was the Troodon? They think he is the smartest dinosaur. But Grandpa says that a big brain
doesn't make you smart, because I'm so small and I'm the smartest little girl he's ever seen."

Edward suddenly coughed. "Emmy, love, we all know you don't have a problem with self-esteem, but be a little humble."

"No, I think I agree with your grandpa," I said, eating my lasagna as the ice nursed my hand. "You're an extremely smart little girl. Did you know the stegosaurus had a brain the size of a walnut?"

"Yeah," she replied. "They think he was the dumbest dinosaur, but Grandpa says that is simply not true." I noticed she slipped into a British accent at the end of her sentence.

Edward felt compelled to explain. "My dad is from London. He came to the states for a vacation, saw my mom, and never looked away. He's been here for twenty-five years, but his accent is still very-"

"Beatles-like," Emmy finished for him.

"Manners, sweetie," Edward scolded softly. "And yes, I suppose he does speak like the Beatles, but that is where the similarities end. No musical talent whatsoever. But he is a rather renowned scientist at the university. Miss Emily Juliet Cullen is the apple of his eye." Lovingly, he smoothed
his daughter's curls. "Ems loves to imitate his voice."

"Emmy," Emerson piped up, "what is your favorite dinosaur?"

"The Velociraptor," she said confidently. "They were the only dinosaurs who could speak with each other and make hand signals."

"How can they figure that out from fossils?" I asked Edward quietly, who just gave me a look like, Tell me about it.

"What is your favorite?" Emmy asked my son.

"The Euo-ploc-e-phal-us," Emerson carefully sounded out. "It could smash bones with its tail. It's like The Thing from Fantastic Four."

"Who is your favorite superhero?" Edward queried, obviously taking advantage of a conversation away from dinosaurs. I wondered how much of Emmy's vocabulary consisted of archeological terms.

"Either Superman or Spiderman," Emerson said thoughtfully. "Not Batman, because Mom wouldn't let me see The Dark Knight. I don't know what happens." He gave me a sad face.

"When you're older," I promised him. "I saw it with Aunt Rosalie, and it was pretty rough, baby."

"It wasn't that good," Edward tried to soothe Emerson. "I was disappointed. I wouldn't let Emmy see it, either."

And so went the rest of our dinner conversation. Emmy continued to share her vast scientific knowledge and Emerson just soaked it up. I could see something in his eyes when he looked at her, as silly as that sounds for a five-year-old. I couldn't tell if it was a crush or admiration or just gratitude to have a friend at last.

When the kids finished their lasagna, I slid The Land Before Time into the DVD player. The children laid on their stomachs on the carpet, still clutching the plastic dinosaurs, and eating the scrumptious brownies Edward had brought. Emerson had seen the movie so many times that he could use his toys to act out the scenes. I wondered if they were going to give a performance.

"Shall we get started?" I asked as I returned to the kitchen.

Edward smiled down at me, making my heart race. "We shall. By the way, that lasagna was...wow."

"Thanks," I blushed with an involuntary girlish giggle. "Another one of Grandma's recipes."

"She seems like an amazing woman. What do you want me to do in the way of baking?"

"I'll show you," I replied, preheating the oven. "I borrowed my friend Rosalie's mixer, so we can do double duty. The list of measurements is right here. In this bowl, mix the butter, brown sugar, and granulated sugar. Add the corn syrup, egg, and vanilla and beat until well blended. But the trick is to make the batter light and fluffy. Can you do that?"

He snorted. "Maybe you should show me how."

I giggled again. "Alright. Two sticks of butter, three/fourths cup of brown sugar, half cup of sugar," I listed as I poured the specific ingredients into the bowl. "Didn't you make the very delicious brownies?"

"Yes, but I know how to mix. I don't know how to make it light and fluffy."

I snickered. "Okay, silly. Measure me out a half-cup of sugar?"

He handed it to me, our fingers brushing against each other. It made my heartbeat grow so loud I blushed. I hadn't felt this delicious tingle of hope, anticipation, and infatuation in so long.

After I poured it into the bowl, I grabbed the mixer and attached the whisks. "Let me see your hand," I requested softly.

Our fingers automatically laced as I guided his hand toward the mixer. We gripped the handle together, his hand under mine. Not wanting to break our handholding, I hit the power switch and nudged the whisks down into the batter.

Batter suddenly splattered everywhere, ruining the wonderfully solemn atmosphere.

"Whoa!" we both shouted. I quickly hit the off button and dropped the mixer.

"I'm sorry," I sputtered. "I totally didn't mean-"

He laughed and put a finger over my lips. "Bella, it's fine. In fact, you're rather adorable with batter on your face." To prove his point, he swiped some goo off my face with one finger before tasting it.

Okay, so I may have been a mother, but I was still a twenty-one-year-old woman, and the youth in me found that to be incredibly sexy from this doting father. The phrase DILF came to mind. So of course I was a bit frozen, not knowing how to react. His gorgeous green eyes smoldered down at me...

And then we were interrupted by my ringing cell phone.

I sighed softly as I turned away from him to answer it. It was Charlie.

"Hey, Dad," I said lightly.

"Hey, Bells." His voice sounded sad and stressed out.

"You don't sound too good," I said, watching Edward as he used the paper towel to wipe up the batter on the counter. I could see a blush on his face, too.

"Yeah, I've got some bad news. You know the Atearas down at the reservation?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Logan is missing."

"Wait," I said in a panicky voice. "Isn't he the one with Down syndrome?"

"I'm afraid so," Charlie sighed.

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "What happened?"

"He just wandered off. We think he's in the woods. Anyway, I doubt I'll be able to make it to Emerson's play. Tell him I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Dad," I assured him. "Finding Logan is way more important. You'll still get to see the Valentine's Day production."

"Thanks, Bells. You still coming down for Thanksgiving?"

"Of course. We can't wait."

After I got off the phone, Edward gave me a funny look, so I explained that my dad was the police chief and then the Logan situation.

"Well, ginger snaps," Edward said softly, using another "kid-friendly" curse word. "That's awful. I can't imagine what I would do if Emmy went missing."

"I know what you mean," I agreed. "Emerson is my world. Luckily, Forks and La Push are a tightly-bound community. They'll find him one way or another. People really take care of each other down there."

I noticed Edward still had batter on his face, so I used a paper towel to wipe it off. He smiled at me. "Thanks, Bella."

"No problem. Now that I've made a mess, shall we try again?"

This time I got the mixer right, and sparks flowed throughout my veins as I held his hand, guiding his gentle mixing. Finally I no longer had an excuse to guide him, but he didn't seem to want me to let go. He lightly put a hand on my waist.

When the batter was light and fluffy, I added the other ingredients and he mixed it together. We spooned the batter out into cookies on several cookie sheets.

"So your dad is a police officer," he mused. "What about your mom?"

I tried not to roll my eyes at the thought of my mom. "Five years ago, she was a kindergarten teacher in Arizona, and I imagine she still is." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I haven't spoken to her since the day after my sixteenth birthday, when I found out I was pregnant with Emerson."

"Oh," Edward said sadly. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "It's her loss, trust me. She sent me to live with my dad so I couldn't 'shame her'…but it was only because she was newly married to a very young man and didn't want a baby in her newlywed days. I sent her a picture of me and Emerson after he was born, but I never got a reply. So she's no longer a part of my life. What about your mom?"

"She's an architect," he said lightly. "And yeah, she was pissed when Tanya and I told her about Emmy…but she came around by the first ultrasound."

"You're very lucky," I said softly.

He nodded. "Yeah, my parents are extremely wealthy, but I've still had to do it on my own. I got a job and found an apartment for Tanya and myself, but of course in her grand tradition, she only took advantage of me. By the time she was gone, I was broke. Mom and Dad would keep Emmy for me to go to school, but everything else was my responsibility." He sighed.

"Trust me, it's really hard to be seventeen years old and have to call your very religious father and say, 'Hey, Dad, I'm out of formula and diapers and my baby is hungry.' Of course they would never make Emmy and me go without a meal, but I still learned responsibility."

My heart broke. "Yeah, I can imagine. Luckily my dad helped me out financially until I got my degree, so Emerson and I never missed a meal, either. After I got my job, he quit supporting me, but I know he would still help me if I needed it."

Edward nodded. "Yeah, I got a scholarship to the university. Mom works at home, so she kept Emmy while I went to school during the day and worked most nights. I got my degree in journalism and managed to find a job right off the bat. Money is still tight, though."

"Yep, Santa doesn't bless Emerson as much as he does the other kids," I sighed.

"Same for Emmy. She's happy and healthy, though."

I smiled at him. "We're both great parents, I think. Ready for the next batch?"

We fell into a pattern of mixing a bowl of batter together—we apparently liked that flirty little game—and rotating the batches in the oven. I went and gave Emerson and Emmy a few cookies and a glass of milk each, and they seemed to approve of them.

Edward cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So you haven't been in a relationship since Emerson's father."

I snorted. "Is it that obvious? No, and Jacob Black didn't really count as a relationship, either. He was just some rebel with a motorcycle who swung through Phoenix, and we became hook-up buddies…he left on that gorgeous motorcycle the minute I told him I was pregnant."

"Yeah, I haven't dated, either."

"It may be easier for you," I mused. "You didn't have the pregnancy weight, and at least girls think a guy with a baby is cute."

He visibly scoffed. "Oh, yeah right! Come back to my place doesn't really work when you have to interrupt the makeout session because the baby monitor is going off." I could tell by his smirk that he was joking with me.

I giggled. "I never even got as far as a makeout session."

"Well, I can't even tell you've had a baby, if it makes you feel better. You're gorgeous in every way, especially in that blue."

I blushed deeply. "Thanks," I murmured. "I really can't believe this Tanya gave you up."

"She didn't give me up," he muttered. "She gave Emmy up. That's what I don't understand."

"Your daughter is so intelligent."

A smile immediately spread across his face. "Blame my dad…but she's a little fashion maven, too. That's from my sister. She prefers clothes, shoes, and hairbows to toys, which I find strange for a five-year-old…"

I laughed. "I was never like that. I preferred to make mudpies and play in the dirt. So I guess I was destined to have a son."

"Do you have any dreams of marriage and more kids?"

I bit my lip as I combined more ingredients. "Um…yeah, I do want to find a dad for Emerson. But at the same time, it's hard for me to ever trust a man…Jacob really let me down. Plus my mom's husband was the primary reason why she kicked me out. Men have really let me down, except for my dad. And as for other kids…someday, maybe? Right now it's all about Emerson."

He nodded, allowing that.

"What about you?" I asked him.

He smiled. "I want a son. I was hoping for a boy, but I wouldn't trade Emmy for any baseball player. It's kind of amazing how good I've become at braiding hair and helping her put on tights."

I giggled. "She's really precious, and always looks beautiful. You're doing a good job."

His face lit up at a sudden memory. "Here's a funny story that should punch my man card: Emmy was three years old and had the most beautiful curly hair. I thought it looked great, but my mom said that she had ratty split ends and she desperately needed a trim. I didn't even know what split ends were…anyway, I took Emmy to a hair salon and told them to only take care of the split ends. They cut an inch off, and I literally started crying. Emmy was loving the attention and the whole haircutting process. And there I was, twenty years old, bawling over a haircut."

I couldn't hold in the chuckles. "Wait, you cried in front of everyone?"

He nodded guiltily. "Yeah. It was so humiliating, but haircuts are hard for daddies. Mom or Alice—my sister—now take her to get trims. One thing is for sure: she will never, ever dye her hair or cut it short as long as she is under my roof."

"Wow," I said. "I keep Emerson's hair short because his dad had long hair…I just can't take the constant visual reminder. But yeah, I can see where that would be a bit traumatizing for you."

He playfully nudged me. "Are you saying I'm traumatized?"

"No," I said before thinking. "I'm saying that you're just really cute."

The smile on his face was like Christmas morning. "So you think I'm cute?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you said I'm adorable and gorgeous."

"Can I say it again sometime?"

I chuckled at the hopeful look on his face. "Maybe…if you keep mixing these cookies up."

He rolled his eyes playfully as I walked to the oven to pull out another batch. I had been avoiding sampling one so I wouldn't look like a pig in front of him, but finally, I couldn't resist them anymore. I poured up a glass of milk and dunked a steaming hot cookie.

Just like Grandma's.

"Have you tried one?" I asked him.

He grinned crookedly, his face betraying a little bit of guilt. "I've been sneaking a few."

"But have you created the classic combination of chocolate chip cookies and milk?"

"I don't believe I have."

I dunked another cookie in the cold milk and held it up to his lips. He gingerly took a bite in that extremely sexy way and made a deep noise of satisfaction.

"So the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?" I teased him.

He let me feed him the rest of the cookie. "It's certainly not a bad theory."

We finished baking cookies in much the same way: deep conversations about everything from ice cream to immunizations, and soft, innocent flirting. Finally, we had arranged the chewy cookies in plastic containers.

"Oh my god!" Edward exclaimed as he saw the clock. "It's ten PM!"

I hadn't even realized it was that late. We ran to the living room to find the movie over and our children sleeping on the carpet.

"Emmy is usually in bed by eight thirty," he explained, looking tenderly at his daughter.

"Same for Emerson." I went and smoothed my son's hair out of his face. He had a triceratops hugged to his chest.

"I guess I better go," Edward said a bit regretfully, going to the hall to pull on his coat.

"It's been a very fun night," I told him. "Thanks for helping me with my chore. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"No, it was a load of fun," he smiled, pulling out Emmy's pink coat. "And I think Emmy enjoyed it, too. Of course she will never eat Daddy's lasagna again, since mine comes from the frozen foods aisle."

I laughed quietly and followed him back to the living room. While he lifted Emmy up, I helped him put her coat on her. Finally, he had her snuggled close, her sweet little head resting on his shoulder. She didn't even stir the whole time.

I walked him to the door. "Hey, I have a question," he said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yeah…" He nervously bit his lip. "Will you be my date to the play tomorrow?"

"Your family isn't coming?"

He shook his head. "My parents are out of town, and Alice has a night class."

I smiled at him. "Well then, of course. I would love to be your date. We don't have to pick up the kids after school, do we?"

He shook his head. "No, they'll be at school all afternoon working on the play. The play is at six, so what if I pick you up at five thirty?"

"Okay," I nodded. "That sounds amazing."

He smiled and bent to kiss my cheek. "Good night, Bella. Thanks for a fabulous dinner, dessert, and conversation."

"No, thank you. It's cool to have so much in common with someone," I replied, my cheek tingling and my heart racing.

He gave me his most beautiful crooked smile. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Edward."

I locked the door behind him and silently carried Emerson to his bed. After I dressed him in his pajamas and tucked him in, I went to my room to change into my pajamas.

I already had a text message from Rosalie: So, how was the date with Mr. Perfect?

I eagerly replied with one word: Perfect.

And then I did a rather childish dance on my mattress.

Emmy's ability to rattle off dinosaur facts was inspired by my little brother, who at age six could explain the dynamics of astronomy and also chose a telescope for Christmas instead of one of those electric Jeeps for kids. As he grew older, he used his telescope to spy on our next-door neighbor, who had been caught looking in my window with his own telescope.

The haircut story was inspired by my own father, who held me tight and bawled when I had an inch of white-blonde hair cut off at age three. I no longer have that gorgeous white-blonde hair (it has naturally darkened to a less attractive ash blonde that looks red in the sunlight) but he still gets upset whenever I go for a trim.

Would anyone be interested in Edward's POV?

For my "Aftershocks" readers, chapter two should be up by Wednesday.

I love reviews!