.

"Is it a giraffe?"

"No, it's not a giraffe."

"Oh, I bet it is."

"...What?"

"Well, then, it's an elephant."

"It's supposed to be a rooster."

- Susan & Kane

May 23, 2010

Edward

"That one looks like your nose," Isabella claims and points, giggling.

"It does not!" I defend, stealing a pensive glance at the wispy cloud in question.

She rolls onto her side, colliding with me as I remain on my back. I self-consciously touch the bridge of my nose before Isabella brushes away my hand.

"I like your nose," she soothes, kissing the top of it gently.

I smile up at Isabella until she moves, sitting upright on the grass. Her exploring eyes dart around the lawn.

"Oh, dandelions!" she announces when her gaze hits the other side of the yard. She gets up and grabs my hand, tugging on it impatiently.

I blink at her rapid movements, half-consciously standing to assist Isabella in her pulling.

I'm not sure why she is so excited about finding vermin on the edge of our property, but I trustingly follow her anyway. She leads me across the grass, through the sunlight sneaking past cloud shapes.

When we reach the patch of weeds, Isabella studies them carefully. There are a several yellow ones and two that are ready to lose their seeds.

She picks the white ones, bunching them together to make a mini bouquet.

My forehead creases slightly. "You think those are pretty?" I ask, failing to erase the hesitance in my tone.

Maybe I'm screwing up when I buy her roses.

"No," she laughs. "They're lucky when you blow on them and scatter the seeds."

Oh.

"Make a wish," she tells me, thrusting a dandelion into my hand.

I look at Isabella doubtfully. Her own half-dead plant is clasped tightly in one fist.

"Maybe I have everything I want."

"That's boring," she jibes, sitting down cross-legged on the lawn. A ray of sunlight hits her hair, revealing a natural streak of red.

"Well, what are you wishing for?"

"I can't tell you. It will ruin the wish." She leaves out the "duh," but it's written all over her face.

I purse my lips in amusement.

Part of me wants to kindly point out that she's only helping weeds propagate all over our new yard, but she looks so beautiful and happy under the sun.

I stare down at my dandelion thoughtfully.

I have a beautiful, wonderful wife. A generous income. We just bought our first house together...

What more could I need?

When I bring my gaze back to Isabella, her eyelids are already shut tightly in concentration. In the light, her black eyelashes provide an especially sharp contrast to the pale skin of her cheeks.

I watch her suck in a quick breath before immediately blowing it back out. White specks of plant fly off in slightly different directions, eager to complete their only task.

Isabella takes a stealthy half-peek at her efforts, noting that her dandelion still needs some work, before she tries again.

When her hand is proudly clutching a now-bare wishing tool, Isabella looks at me with expectant brown eyes.

So even though I don't believe in the magic of weeds, I make my own wish before freeing the seeds from their stem.

I wish that Isabella will tell me whatever she is wishing for, so I can give it to her.

July 28, 2010

Edward

I stir the ice cubes around with my straw, enjoying the satisfying clinking sound they make against the glass. They're those ice cubes that dip down in the middle to form a hole, creating a smooth indentation. When I was a kid, I liked to suck on them, pretending that my tongue would get stuck.

"So why did you ask me here, Edward? I know you hate me."

I reluctantly look away from my water and memories, meeting Rosalie's stare from across the table.

"I don't hate you," I say truthfully.

I'm a sensible man. I know that hate should be reserved for truly evil things, like taxes. And the high-pitched keening of Evanescence.

Besides, I'm over the tiff I never voiced after she blabbed to the police. They are such morons that her "clue" couldn't have hurt their lacking productivity, anyway. Marcus is much better.

"Anyway, thanks for meeting with me," I continue, changing the subject as I arrange my napkin nervously. Since my eyes have already surveyed the only decent restaurant establishment in Forks - aside from the diner - I have little to focus on.

"I was hoping you could tell me some things about Isabella. Things I obviously missed."

My dry throat and mouth seem content with the brief explanation, so they produce no more sounds. It's rather sad that so few syllables can aptly sum up the cause of so many problems.

I await her reply with more napkin-picking and more downcast eyes.

When I hear none, I finally look up to see Rosalie gazing at me with something an awful lot like sympathy.

I rake my hair with one hand. Two hands. Fuck.

This must be bad. Rosalie Hale-Cullen does not do sympathetic.

"Are you sure you want to hear this, Edward? She's already gone."

Unformed tears glitter in her ice-blue eyes, shocking me with their presence. I didn't know my sister-in-law was even capable of crying.

Rosalie fiddles with her red, self-manicured nails, keeping me from taking a closer look when she ducks her head.

Her rare vulnerability hardens my motivation even further.

"I'm going to find her, Rosalie."

She lets out a decidedly harsh breath, trying to recover her unaffected persona for the outside world.

"Okay."

She looks up with more confident eyes, and I know it's both an answer to my reassurance and an answer to my request.

May 28, 2010

Bella

When the smell of Sue's cleaning supplies becomes too much to bear, I take my laptop upstairs so I can keep selecting my favorite thumbnails.

I walk over to our king-sized bed, picking up a few things on the way so Edward won't trip on them. He keeps reminding me that Sue can clean our room as well, but I like having one space where I know that everything will be exactly where I left it.

After I plop down to sit, I look up Jessica's number on my iPhone. I have yet to use my new gadget for anything but phone calls, and that kind of makes me feel like I'm disgracing the Apple brand or technology itself.

I consider the many apps that Edward uses as I wait for my friend to pick up. I know that she and Angela are both at work, but I also know that Jessica won't get in trouble for answering her cell.

"Hey, Bella," she greets cheerfully, the clattering of pans slightly skewing her words.

"Hey, Jess. What's up?" I ask, realizing with chagrin that I have nothing constructive to contribute to the conversation. I just miss her.

"Not too much. Just hanging out with Tyler. And working, as usual."

"How's the diner?"

"Not the same without you," she replies in a quieter tone. "Meg is trying her best, but she made the mistake of asking Mr. Thomas why he wanted soup for breakfast."

We both chuckle while I inwardly wish that I had better explained the patrons to my replacement.

"Don't worry," Jessica elaborates, probably sensing my anxiety. "I set her straight."

I hear a muffled voice speaking to Jessica as I distractedly open my laptop.

"Oh, I better go, chica," she apologizes. "Some orders just came in. But when are you going to come visit us? I want to hear all about France."

I do my best to mask the disappointment in my tone, knowing that I can call her some other time.

"I'll try to come next weekend. I'm hoping that Edward can coordinate a visit with his brother at the same time."

"Okay, just let me know when. Angela and I will make it work for us."

"Thanks, Jess. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Bella. Love you."

I return the sentiment and hang up, trying to fight the glum feeling rising inside me as I organize more photos.

I lie back against the throw pillows after I look at the time, hugging the softest one to my chest. Only one thought seems to cure my homesickness, so I repeat it over and over again.

Edward will be home in an hour, and then everything will be okay.