Author's Note: Bella's POV of the first part of Sinterklaas!

Chapter Eleven: "Meet the Parents" Bella's POV

I answered the door without looking out the peephole, already knowing who it was. Edward and Emmy were huddled together on the porch, trying to keep warm.

"Come into the heat," I encouraged them, stooping down so I could give Emmy a big hug.

"Hey, Bella," she said happily, surprising me with a kiss on the cheek.

"Aw, thank you, sweet girl," I murmured, kissing her little face. "Do you want to sample a cookie?"

"Yes, please!"

"I'll give you one as soon as they finish baking. Emerson is in the living room."

Emmy shed her coat, handed it to her father, and took off toward my son. In the week since I had agreed to be in a relationship with Edward, we spent nearly every afternoon together. Emmy was now comfortable with running and playing in my apartment, as Emerson was in Edward's home.

"I don't think she realizes that we're just about to leave," Edward murmured, pulling me into a hug.

"The cookies aren't ready yet," I replied, "so take your coat off and get comfortable. What time are we supposed to be at your parents'?"

He grinned at me. "We have plenty of time, sweetie. Can I get comfortable with you?"

My kiss on his lips was the only answer he needed. When the kids weren't looking, we were probably quite sickening with our kisses and handholding and cuddling. But I was twenty-one, for god's sake. I had missed the physical aspects of a relationship.

However, I loved the emotional aspects even more. Like the phone calls that lasted late into the night, the random "Miss your beautiful smile" text messages, the way he always caught me when I tripped, and the sweet things he would say to me.

I pulled away from his lips and let him nuzzle his nose to my neck. "You know you don't have to bring food," he commented softly, dropping a gentle kiss on my throat. "Mom always creates a feast for Sinterklaas."

"I make some amazing Christmas cookies and casseroles," I replied self-consciously. "And I don't have much else to impress your family with."

He pulled his head back and gave me a funny look. "Bella, you don't have to work at impressing them. They already think you're the perfect match for me."

I sighed and took his hand, leading him to the kitchen. "Edward, I'm a very young single mom who doesn't have any money and who doesn't even have beauty on her side. At least my cooking skills can be considered slightly endearing."

He rolled his eyes before taking my face in his hands. "Bella," he said softly, kissing the tip of my nose. "You are…" He kissed my eyelids. "So beautiful…" A kiss on my cheek. "A wonderful mother…" My chin. "And so adorable in every way…" My other cheek. "That everyone who meets you falls in love with you." My temple. "And I'm the luckiest guy in the world…" My other temple. "Because I'm able to share pudding and play dates and kisses with you." My chin. "So don't worry about my family. They're going to love you."

Finally, he kissed my lips again.

I sighed and sagged a bit against his body.

"Plus the fact that you're a fabulous cook is just the icing on the cake," he added, kissing the top of my head and wrapping his arms around me. "You're so self-conscious, and I don't know why."

"You're too perfect," I mumbled. "I'm kind of scared that you're going to vanish. I've never had a guy like you before."

"I've never had a girl as wonderful as you, either," he replied, resting his chin on my head so I was tucked in safely.

I suddenly smelled cookies. "Oh, jeez," I groaned, running to the oven. He grinned as I quickly pulled the cookie sheets out. "Safe!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms out like I was deciding a baseball game.

"Do you need any help?" he asked me.

"You can help me with the sprinkles. I have red and green sprinkles in the cabinet."

When we were finished with that chore, I gave Emmy and Emerson each a cookie, and then Edward and I loaded the cookies and casseroles into the spacious trunk of his Volvo. I ran back inside to deck Emerson and myself out in our winter garb.

I grabbed our overnight bag and then glanced at Edward. "Ready?" I asked almost shyly. It was just nerves.

"I am," he replied tenderly. "Are you?"

I sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Emmy and Emerson buckled up in the backseat. Edward quietly held my hand as he drove to the complete opposite side of Seattle. We were in a beautiful neighborhood before long.

"Is this where you grew up?" I asked him.

"No," he replied, a strange look on his face. "This is just a shortcut."

He took a side road into what looked like green countryside. There were beautiful fields and fences. Finally, he slowed in front of a stone security house with a large fence.

"Gated community?" I guessed, praying that this was correct. I sincerely hoped that his parents weren't wealthy enough to have security guards.

He bit his lip. "Not exactly."

He punched a code into the keypad, and the gates slowly opened. A long cobblestone driveway wound in the middle of a lovely green yard.

And then it led to an absolutely massive stone house.

"Bella, breathe," he whispered, squeezing my hand as I stared.

"This is where you grew up?" I squeaked.

"They've added some square feet since then," he hedged.

I turned and gave him a rather meaningful look. "Edward, you didn't tell me we were going to Jay Gatsby's house."

"Relax," he told me. "They're more Nick Callahan than Jay Gatsby. And they're not looking for a Daisy Buchanan, either. Or a Jordan Baker. My parents are the kinds of people that F. Scott Fitzgerald would approve of."

I actually cracked a smile. At least my literary-nerd-boyfriend knew what I meant.

"My grandpa and grandma are really nice," Emmy piped up from the backseat. "You'll like them."

"This house is like a castle," Emerson observed.

"It's really fun," Emmy enthused. "I have my own room and everything."

Edward hit a button on a switch attached to the ceiling of the Volvo, and the four-car garage opened up. He took a middle spot, in between a black Mercedes Benz, a silver BMW, a yellow Porsche, and a black Ducati motorcycle. Emmy immediately unbuckled herself and opened the car door, eager to go inside.

"Slow down, Emily," Edward warned her. "Don't go in without me."

"Daddy, it's just Grandma's house—"

"I know, but we have guests. Don't be rude."

After the kids had climbed out of the car and were waiting in the garage, Edward put a hand to my cheek. "Ready?"

"No."

"You look lovely," he promised me, leaning in to peck my lips. "Come on. I'm ready to show you off."

I got out of the car on shaky legs and slung my overnight bag on my shoulder. We went to the trunk, where Edward pulled out the casseroles. I nervously clutched the plastic container of cookies.

We walked up the steps and Edward opened the door, causing a security system to beep approvingly as we entered. Emmy and Emerson walked in front of us. "Grandpa!" Emmy exclaimed. "Grandma!"

I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Edward put an arm around my waist and forced me to keep walking. Finally, we made it into an open foyer area.

I was momentarily distracted by the huge, captivating portrait of Emmy on the wall. It was obviously the centerpiece of the room. It was black-and-white, with her mouth laughing and her curls bouncing. It was beautiful. I barely even noticed when Edward took the cookies from my hand and set my food on the coffee table.

"Hello, darling," a male's deep British accent said, and I turned my head to the crowd that was forming. A handsome blond middle-aged man with blue eyes and laugh lines was picking Emmy up and pulling her into a bear hug. "Are you ready for Sinterklaas?"

"Yeah, Grandpa!" she exclaimed, hugging his neck tightly. "Come meet my new friend!"

Emerson was shyly waiting on the floor, watching Emmy with wide eyes. He had never been in such an expensive house and he had probably never seen such beautiful people. A gorgeous woman with caramel-colored hair was behind Edward's father, bright green eyes on Emerson.

"Is this the famous Emerson?" the woman asked sweetly, bending down to shake Emerson's hand.

"Introduce yourself," I gently prodded my baby, feeling somewhat elated that they noticed him before they noticed me. Stuff like that means a lot to a mother.

"Emerson Swan," he said bashfully, hands tucked behind his back.

"You're so handsome," the woman gushed, giving him a gentle hug. "Emmy talks about you all the time. I'm her grandmother, Esme. You can call me Esme or Grandma."

"I like calling her Grandma," Emmy announced.

Mr. Cullen chuckled and bent to shake Emerson's hand. "And I'm Carlisle, but you can call me Carlisle or Grandpa."

Okay, so maybe they really are down-to-earth, I thought, breathing a sigh of relief.

"I already have a grandpa," Emerson announced, "but I'll call you Grandpa Carlisle."

Everyone laughed, and expectant eyes turned to Edward.

He cleared his throat, a comforting arm around my shoulders. "Mom, Dad," he said happily, "this is my girlfriend, Bella Swan. Bella, these are my parents, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and Esme Cullen."

I briefly wondered what our respective children would think of the word girlfriend, but that thought left as soon as his mother let out a thrilled noise. "Oh, you are lovely!" Esme squealed, coming to hug me. She smelled like floral perfume and cinnamon and felt very warm.

"Thank you," I said shyly. "It's so nice to meet you."

"No, it's so nice to finally meet you," Carlisle disagreed, giving me one of those one-armed man squeezes. "We've heard so much about you and Emerson. Edward, she really is stunning. You weren't lying."

My face burned. Carlisle's words seemed to ring even more sincerely with his charming English accent.

"Told you so," Edward said good-naturedly, giving me an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

"I'm so excited to meet you," Esme gushed, pulling me by the hand. "Everyone, let's go into the living room and wait for Alice and Jasper. Emmy, you can show Emerson your room, if you would like."

"Okay!" Emmy exclaimed, grabbing Emerson's hand and towing him down the hall. My little man looked relieved to be taken away from adults.

"Be good, Emerson!" I called. "Don't touch anything that looks breakable!"

Everyone laughed quietly. "It's very childproof, Bella," Esme assured me. "Your son is so adorable. Carlisle, Edward, why don't we migrate to a more comfortable room?"

"Whatever you say, love," Carlisle told her, winking at me. "You can tell who calls the shots, Bella."

I laughed, remembering my sense of humor. "You're a smart man for allowing that."

We walked down the hall—which was full of pictures of Alice and Edward throughout the years—and into a broad living room. I was nearly staggered that almost everything was white—the walls, the carpets, the furniture, even the huge flatscreen television. How does Emmy survive in a white room? Doesn't she drink Kool-Aid?

Esme suddenly noticed the casseroles and cookies in Edward's hands. "Oh, Bella, sweetie," she gently chided me. "You really didn't have to bring anything! You're our guest!"

"I love to cook," I assured her, taking the dishes from Edward. "Can I put these in the kitchen?"

"Of course! Just come with me to the kitchen."

I followed her into a large kitchen with stunning appliances that looked like they belonged on a sci-fi movie. Just as I set the food down, she pulled me into another hug.

"You're beautiful," she told me in a fierce whisper. "And you've already made Edward so happy. All we hear about is how lovely you are and how amazing you are and how good of a mother you are. Tell me your secret, Bella. How did you manage to make Edward so happy?"

My head was spinning at the very sight of this wonderful woman, much less her compliments! I shrugged gently. "We've only known each other for a few weeks…we just clicked, I guess."

"My son is singing," she said dreamily. "And playing the piano and laughing all the time…he's like a whole new Edward since he met you."

"Was he…different before he met me?" I asked softly.

"Oh, he's always been a cheerful person," she assured me. "But the pressures of single fatherhood…well, you can understand. As you can see, darling, Carlisle and I have been very…blessed…in our lives. But we knew when Edward told us he was going to be a father that he couldn't continue to be spoiled. So we simply just kicked him out! We helped him get started, of course, but as soon as Emmy was born, he was on his own. And that's hard on a child. Edward really was just a child when it happened…it has made him more reserved, more intense. But since he's known you, he is a bit more…carefree."

"Oh," I said, my ears practically aching at her long speech. Emmy obviously inherited her talkative spirit from Esme and Alice. "I can definitely understand what you mean…but Edward makes me happy, too. I keep thinking I've lucked out by finding a man who is as dedicated to a child as I am. They are few and far between."

"You're so sweet," Esme sighed happily. "I feel like I already know you, just from hearing Edward and Emmy talk about you."

We were interrupted then by the door opening, and the clack of heels down the hall. "I'm home!" called a voice that could only belong to Alice.

"We're home!" Jasper corrected her in his Southern drawl.

They entered the kitchen a moment later, and to my surprise, a flash of bronze curls streaked through the kitchen.

"Whoa, hey, munchkin!" Jasper said happily, catching Emmy as she jumped into his arms. "I missed you too, sugar."

Emmy greeted him with a few happy kisses on the lips. "Hey, Uncle Jasper. Are you spending the night?"

"I always spend the night on Sinterklaas," he reminded her, kissing her forehead.

Emmy turned to me. "This is my Uncle Jasper," she informed me proudly. "I'm going to marry him."

"Wow," I said. "What are you going to wear?"

"A white ballgown," she sighed wistfully, her eyes distant. "And a long veil."

"You'll have to invite me to the wedding," I said just as Edward and Carlisle entered the kitchen.

"You can be my bridesmaid," Emmy assured me.

"What an honor," I played along. "Emmy, where is Emerson?"

"Right here, Mommy," my little man replied, coming into the kitchen and reaching for me.

He was heavy, but I picked him up and bounced him on my hip.

"Is this the handsome Emerson?" Alice cooed, coming to meet him.

"This is the Emerson," I replied.

"I'm Aunt Alice," she introduced herself. "Are you excited about Sinterklaas?"

He nodded, going back into his shell again. My child wasn't shy by nature, but this family was awfully loud and social. No wonder he was intimidated.

"It's the best holiday ever," she said enthusiastically. "You're going to get lots of candy and maybe even some Kryptonite."

That pulled him back out of the shell. Obviously she had heard a lot about my kid since she brought up Superman. "I don't want Kryptonite!" he exclaimed, giggling. "It makes me weak!"

"Oh, right," Alice said in mock-confusion. "Wait, are you the real Clark Kent?"

"I can't give away my identity," he replied seriously, making everyone laugh again.

"Dinner has been waiting," Esme announced. "Let's file into the dining room."

I offered to help with the food, but Alice and Esme both commanded me to go sit down. Carlisle asked Emmy if she and Emerson wanted to sit at the grown-ups' table.

"No," she decided. "Daddy said we can't talk about dinosaurs at the table tonight. But Emerson and I can."

"That's my girl," Carlisle smiled, kissing her cheek. "Why don't you ask Uncle Jasper to pull out your little table and chairs?"

While Emmy, Emerson, and Jasper set them up a table, Edward took my hand and led me to the beautiful mahogany table. Expensive-looking china and silver adorned the table.

"This looks delicious," Carlisle complimented his wife as she started bringing out the dishes. I gaped at the huge turkey and all of the holiday trimmings. Edward wasn't joking when he said feast.

I made Emerson a plate (asking Esme for a cheaper plate than the china) of turkey and vegetables and gave him a glass of milk. When the kids were taken care of, we sat down and started passing around the dishes.

"All of your food looks gourmet, Bella," Esme complimented me. "You're going to make us all—especially the men—very happy."

"Indeed," Jasper agreed. "Maybe you can teach Alice how to cook."

The family laughed at some memory. Esme turned the conversation back to me. "So what do you do for a living, dear?"

I cleared my throat a bit uncomfortably. "I work at a dental clinic," I vaguely explained, shifting in my seat. Edward placed his hand on my knee, giving me a smile.

"A hygienist or nurse?" Carlisle guessed.

"Not quite yet," I stammered as I blushed. "I'm only an assistant now, but I'm hoping to move up once Emerson is a little older and I have a little more money saved for my education."

"Well, you could be a chef," Jasper decided, making a happy noise as he tasted one of my dishes.

"She also made cookies that I could eat until my teeth fall out," Edward added, winking at me. "Her baking skills betray her dental skills."

I snorted as I began to eat. I definitely felt more at ease. Edward was right—his family was just as down-to-earth as he was.

"So you sacrificed your education for your baby," Alice stated admiringly. "How did you make that decision?"

I took a sip of the wine that Esme had poured, and my hand automatically searched for Edward's under the table. "Er…there never really was a choice, I guess," I stammered. "It was all about Emerson, right from the beginning. Before I even knew he would be an Emerson."

"How old were you?" Carlisle asked without a hint of judgment in his voice.

"Sixteen," I said quietly.

"So Tanya's age," Alice mumbled, which earned a stern glance from Edward.

"Obviously you made the right choice," Esme pointed out.

"Yes," I smiled as I glanced at my handsome son. "Yes, I did. There was never any question in that."

"And his father?" Jasper nearly whispered, clearly not wanting to attract Emerson's attention.

"Emerson doesn't have a father," I explained in a near-whisper.

It was enough for the Cullen clan to accept and move on. Esme and Carlisle were extremely interested in my family, especially in Forks. Esme had actually built a few houses in Forks, so she was familiar with the area.

Throughout dinner, we chatted about a multitude of things. We had coffee and desserts in the living room, and eventually Emmy convinced her grandparents to let her turn the living room into a pillow and blanket fort. I was worried that Emerson would get carried away, but Esme and Carlisle didn't seem to be concerned, and my son was so happy that I didn't have the heart to tell him not to. We simply moved to a different sitting area of the house and started to play Scrabble.

I knew I was officially accepted when I mentioned that I had been in an Advanced Placement English class in high school. The family was Scrabble-crazy. Apparently the very intelligent Dr. Cullen was the official Scrabble champion, and they hoped that the new addition to the game would overthrow him.

After Team Edward-and-Bella won a couple games of Scrabble, Esme gave me a huge hug and kiss.

"She's perfect," she sighed to her son. "Edward, darling, marry her."

Edward and I both had flaming cheeks, but he gave me an I told you so look and leaned in to kiss me sweetly.

A few things...

Yes, there will be a chapter about the rest of Sinterklaas, but it will be from Edward's POV. I imagine it will be posted this weekend.

Edward and Bella were referring to F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic The Great Gatsby when they pulled into the Cullens' driveway. If you have been deprived of golden literature, you should know that Jay Gatsby is extremely wealthy. Nick Callahan does not care much for wealth. Daisy Buchanan and Jordan Baker live for money and social status. And the whole point of the book is that Fitzgerald thought that wealth was useless and corrupting. So Carlisle and Esme may look like Gatsby, but they're really Nick. And Bella isn't a Daisy or a Jordan at all, which Carlisle and Esme appreciate.

That is a really sad, watered-down description of a fantastic novel. Go read it. It totally trumps The Catcher in the Rye or Romeo & Juliet or whatever my younger readers are being forced to study in school. Actually, there is a Gatsby movie coming out that is directed by my favorite director, Baz Luhrmann, and I'm SO excited...but wait, this A/N isn't about Gatsby. I'll get back on task. Sorry.

The Scrabble thing was inspired by my family. They weren't impressed with my last boyfriend because he was a poor Scrabble player, and sure enough, I kicked his butt to the curb. My family is insane and out of control and often hurtful, but we can manage to get along long enough to play a game of Scrabble. I don't understand the profound effect Scrabble has on us, but I love it.

I love reviews more than I love cookies.