Chapter 20

As it tends to do in our busy household, life marches steadily on. Edward's sudden insertion into our world doesn't change the fact that our days are often a blur of school and work and mundane chores. The real change is that he's around for it now.

Despite my efforts to take things slowly, Ava and Edward have been nearly inseparable since the day I introduced them in the park. Alarm bells rang steadily in my head for weeks after their initial meeting. I worried that Edward would drift away once Ava's cuteness and the newness of the situation wore off, but he's continually proven me wrong, sticking around even through the worst of the cranky, overly tired, hunger-induced meltdowns. An expert at redirection and a master at distraction—important tools when dealing with a six-year-old—he's surprisingly great with his daughter. Aside from a few no-juice-before-bedtime reminders and a tutorial or two on carseat technique, his transition from stranger to father has been relatively seamless.

"Is Edward coming over tonight?" Ava asks the moment she climbs in the car after school. These days, if I'm not scheduled to work, Edward spends his evenings with us. With Ava.

"I'm not sure," I answer her, waiting patiently while she buckles her carseat. "Get strapped in, and then you can call and ask."

I pass my cellphone back to her once she's settled, and she navigates the screen with impressive ease. Finding his name in my contact list, she connects the call, her small feet bouncing against the back of my seat in anticipation.

"Hi, Edward!" she squeals excitedly when he answers. "Are you coming to my house tonight?…Yeah!…Good…Good, I got a'hunnerd, and I moved up a level…"

On the evenings he spends with us, Edward helps Ava with her accelerated reading program for school, a new tradition they both seem to enjoy. He reads to her with patience and enthusiasm, and she hangs on his every word, watching his face instead of the pictures in her book. It's in those moments—when it's obvious that they adore each other—that my full heart aches for how much they both lost during his absence.

Ava wraps up her conversation with her dad and taps her tiny thumb against the screen to disconnect the call. After placing the device in my outstretched hand, she claps excitedly. "He's coming!"

Smiling at her in the review mirror, I toss my phone on the seat next to me and turn my attention to the school's busy parking lot, calmly waiting for a chance to inch my car into the already too-long line. "What should we make for dinner?"

Ava shrugs. "Pizza?"

"We just made pizza last night," I remind her. "How about tacos?"

Her feet resume their bouncing. "I love tacos, and I bet my dad loves them, too."

It's become a bit of a game in the past few weeks, finding all the things Edward and Ava have in common, and just like I suspected, it's not a short list. Not only do they look alike, they share many similar interests, tastes, and preferences, too. Edward seems proud of their similarities, but the more I learn about his idiosyncrasies, the more I realize how little I actually knew about him when we were younger. Most of my memories center around how good he looked and how hard he hurt.

When I turn onto our tiny street, I notice my brother's car and Rosalie's jeep parked in our driveway, a bit of a surprise considering it's just after four o'clock on a weekday and they're normally still at work.

My overly anxious mind spins through scenarios explaining their early arrival while I help Ava unload herself and her bags. Dropping my keys on the table by the door, I call out to let Emmett and Rose know we're home. The only thing worse than catching them in the act, would be Ava finding them instead.

"In here!" Rose calls out from the kitchen.

Ava kicks off her shoes and tosses them in the basket by the door, slip-sliding on her socks toward the sound of Rose's voice. Trailing her, I find my brother and his girlfriend, still in their work clothes, bent over several piles of paperwork spread out on the kitchen counter.

"What're you guys doing home so early?" I question, stopping at the sink to wash my hands. The guilty looks I find on their faces when I turn around tells me they're up to something, and the nervous way Emmett wrings his hands means it's probably no good.

Ignoring me, Rosalie crosses to the sink and busies herself with helping Ava rid her hands of school-day germs, leaving my brother to fend for himself. "What's going on?" I press, narrowing my eyes at him in uncertainty.

"Nothing," he chirps, shrugging his massive shoulders with exaggerated casualness. "We had some afternoon meetings that wrapped up early."

Nodding slowly, I raise a suspicious eyebrow to let him know that I know, he's full of shit. He's worked at the bank for years—a part-time college job that turned into a full-time career—and I can count on one hand the number of times he's left work early.

Rosalie interrupts our silent conversation from across the kitchen. "Oh, I almost forgot! You'll never guess who asked about you again today, Birdie."

"Who?"

Wagging her eyebrows at me, she covers Ava's ears with her hands. "Sam Miller," she mouths with inflated enthusiasm.

I hate talking about this kind of stuff in front of Ava, and Rosalie knows it. Thankfully, my girl seems oblivious to the sudden turn this conversation has taken, giggling and squirming out of Rose's grasp instead. "Bug," I call. "Can you go pull all of your books out of your backpack and get your agenda ready for me to sign, please?"

Sighing heavily, Ava moans and groans her way out of the kitchen.

"Sam, huh." I mutter once she's out of earshot, rolling my eyes at Rose's failed attempt at distracting me.

Sam Miller works at the bank with Emmett and Rose. I've only been around him a few times, but he's always been witty and likable. His attempts at getting to know me haven't been ignored due to lack of interest on my part, I've just always been too busy to give him much thought.

"Yes, Sam, huh." Rosalie mocks me. "He's cute, Bella. And he's fun and—,"

"He's decent, at best," Emmett interrupts, gathering the papers on the counter and shoving them haphazardly into his leather bag. "He's got that ridiculously toothy grin? Like he can't ever not smile? It creeps me out."

The two of us crack up while Rose rubs her forehead in defeat. "Why am I not surprised?" she mutters, sighing heavily. She glares at my brother. "What do you know? You dumped that…that asshole right back in her lap."

"Rose," I admonish quietly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure we're still alone. "Not around Ava."

Abandoning his project, Emmett joins me near the refrigerator, lowering his voice so that we we're not overheard. "I didn't dump him on her, Rosie," he hisses. "He got his shit together…the rest was up to her. She's an adult, she—,"

"She's too nice! She doesn't—,"

"I'm right here," I snap, throwing the fridge door open harshly. Turning my back to them, I search for tonight's ingredients, taking a moment to gather my composure. "Emmett's right, Rosie," I say eventually, looking my brother's girlfriend in the eye. "I'm a big girl. I might be too nice, but I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."

My phone chimes from its place in my pocket like a perfectly timed explanation point at the end of my poorly delivered speech. Rosalie rolls her eyes when she sees Edward's text on my screen.

On my way.

Re-pocketing my phone, I face my friend again. "Give Sam my number if you want. Tell him I think it'd be fun to hang out sometime."

"Yeah?" Rosalie beams at me.

"Yeah."

-0-0-0-

Edward shows up just as Rose and Emmett are getting ready to head to her house for the night.

"Feel free to stay and eat," I tell them, pointing at the counter piled high with taco toppings. "There's plenty."

My brother rubs his hands together in anticipation. "I love taco ni—,"

"We're good," Rosalie interrupts, digging a slender elbow into his side. She glances at Edward, her lips pursed in disapproval. "We'll let the three of you have some time alone." After kissing my cheek, she heads towards the living room to find Ava, but not before taking the time to tell me—loudly—that she'll let me know about Sam in the next day or two.

"Who's Sam?" Edward asks casually after Emmett and Rose leave.

Dropping forks on napkins as I set the table, I shrug. "Just a friend of Rose's from the bank."

Edward follows behind me, setting plates on placemats. "A girl friend or a guy friend?"

"Um…guy. Why?"

"Just curious," he replies just as Ava comes barreling through the kitchen. She's carrying a giant, hardback dinosaur encyclopedia and wearing a huge smile.

"Edward! Look! You were right! It says right here, the Brontosaurus actually is the Apatosaurus!"

Edward stops his table-setting rotations immediately and bends down to look at the spot flagged by my girl's thin finger. "Yep," he verifies, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Ava slams the book shut and clutches it to her chest, one small foot turned out in a stance of defiance. "I told Jackson that today, but he said nuh-uh, it's not true. I told him my da—Edward said so, but he still didn't believe me. Now I have proof!" She thrusts the book in the air victoriously.

Edward and I hide our grins behind our hands. "Alright, my little paleontologist," I say. "It's time to eat. Books in the living room, please."

Ava races from the room while Edward and I settle in our chairs, constructing our tacos in companionable silence. I reach for Ava's plate, only to find that Edward has already snagged it and is busy filling her shell with cheese and lettuce and tomatoes. No meat. Just the way she likes it.

He pushes her plate toward me as though he's overstepped his boundaries. "Sorry," he murmurs.

I smile at him softly, pushing it back. "It's okay," I say quietly. "Go ahead."

Edward and I remain relatively quiet as Ava dominates the conversation over dinner. She tells us both about her day and her schoolwork and her friends, who she likes and who she doesn't. It's actually quite difficult to get a word in, but somehow Edward manages.

"Hey, Ava?" he asks, when there's a lull in her one-sided conversation.

She pushes her bangs to one side, eyeing me sheepishly when she answers him around a too-full mouth. "Yeah?"

"I was thinking, and…um…if you'd like to call me Dad, I think that'd be okay." He moves the food around on his plate nervously. "I mean, I actually think it would be pretty…great."

Ava stares at him, her face unreadable as she processes what he's suggested. Finally, she shrugs a tiny shoulder and gives him a gap-toothed grin. "Oh," she says. "Okay."

Edward beams at me, just like any proud dad would, except that he's not just any dad, he's her dad, and he's finally, finally earning it.

-0-0-0-

"Damn," I mutter, sighing heavily into the phone. I drop my earrings on my desk and rub my sore earlobe. "No worries; I'll just reschedule."

"I'm so sorry, Birdie," Emmett groans, rumbling the phone against my ear. "It's been a shit day, and I have to fix this stuff. I can't just leave it."

I think Emmett feels worse about my ruined plans than I do. He's stumbled upon an impromptu late-night at the office, which means he's not able to watch Ava while I go to dinner with Sam, the guy Rosalie didn't waste any time fixing me up with. "It's fine, Em. Really. I've got sweatpants and a movie calling my name. I'm happy, trust me."

He snorts into the phone. "See? That's why Rose is going to kill me. She thinks you're going to die old and gray and alone. In sweatpants." He clicks his tongue as though he's just remembered something. "Any chance you could ask Edward to stay with Ava? Or would that be too weird?"

Would it? I'm not really sure. It's not that I don't trust Ava with Edward; on the contrary, he knows her routines inside and out, and she's as comfortable with him as she is with Emmett. I'm confident in Edward's ability to care for his daughter for a few hours…it's the reason I'd be asking that has me worried.

"I can't ask Edward to babysit while I go on a date," I respond, shaking my head. "You're right, that would be weird."

"Why? It's not like you're cheating on him."

"No, but there's…history there, and I would feel rude even asking."

"Bella," Emmett says, snorting. "You think he'll do the same in return? Say no to everyone just because there's history with you two?" He guffaws loudly. "Has his dick fallen off?"

I haven't given that much thought, actually, but now that my brother's bringing it up I have to admit that expecting Edward to stay single forever doesn't sound very realistic. My stomach rolls at the thought of him eating dinner or reading books or sharing his day with someone besides Ava and me. I push those feelings down before they grow wings and fly.

"I guess you're right," I agree hesitantly. "I'll see if he's free."

Emmett's gleeful laugh rumbles the phone. "Good luck, little sister. I think you're going to need it."

After saying goodbye to my brother, I type a quick text to Edward, asking if he's available this evening.

Sure…does this have something to do with whatshisface?

Sam. And yes.

The guy with the big teeth?

You've been talking to Emmett, I see.

I'll come over after work. That okay?

Sounds great.

Excited about the change of plans, Ava spends nearly an hour getting her room ready for her dad's visit, lining up plastic dinosaurs and straightening piles of plush animals. While she's preoccupied, I take the time to blow-dry my hair and curl its ends, something I haven't done in so long that I'm actually shocked to see how long it's grown. I swipe my lashes with mascara and sweep my cheeks with blush, then step into the pretty green sundress that Rose gave me for my birthday last year. Barely worn wedge heels show off my painted toes, and my previously-shed earrings go back in my ears. My mirror shows an upgraded version of an every-day me, but it's not until I walk into Ava's room that I really feel special.

"Oh Mama! You look so pretty!" she gushes from her spot on the floor, surrounded by fantasy friends.

Checking her nightlight and the plug on her white-noise machine, I ready her room for a smooth bedtime. "Thank you, sweet girl," I reply, holding out a hand for her to grab. "Should we go wait for your dad?"

We read while we wait, although she's too excited to sit still, and I'm too anxious to focus. Finally, a sharp knock indicates Edward's arrival, sending Ava barreling towards the entryway.

"Daddy!" she squeals when I open the door, jumping up just as Edward reaches down, a trick so perfectly timed you'd think they'd been practicing it for years instead of weeks.

"Mmppf," Edward wheezes as Ava clings tightly to his neck. He readjusts her weight, then squeezes her in return. "I missed you," he breathes against her hair.

I rub her back gently from where she sits high in his arms, trying not to ruin their sweet moment. "She's so excited that you're here," I say quietly.

Smiling, his eyes trace me from head to toe and back up again. "You look really pretty," he says softly.

The way we're standing at my door, tentatively sharing compliments, makes this feel like a first date. In reality, he's here to watch our daughter while I go out with someone else, the absurdity of the situation suddenly so overwhelming that I almost laugh.

"Thank you," I say instead, opening the door wider. "Come in."

I follow him as he carries a tired Ava inside the house, admiring the way her small arms circle his broad shoulders.

"Come see my room," she begs him, wiggling to get down. "I set up all my dinosaurs so we can play with them, and I got the book out so we can learn their names."

Edward shrugs out of his hoodie and throws it over the back of the couch, a gesture so familiar and relaxed I have to look away. "I can't wait," he says to Ava, ruffling her tangled hair. "Let me just get all my instructions from Mommy, okay?"

Kneeling, I open my arms to Ava for a hug. "I'll be back soon," I tell her. "Have fun."

She hugs me tightly, giggling when I squeeze her a little too hard. "Bye, Mommy."

Ava heads back to her room as I stand and smooth out the already-wrinkled fabric on my dress. I'm about to thank Edward for watching Ava when I notice his frown. "What's wrong?" I ask, slightly alarmed.

He pushes his hands deep in his pockets, raising his shoulders in a permanent shrug. "He's not picking you up?"

"Oh," I say, slightly defensive. "No. I don't like exposing Ava to that sort of thing, so I'm just going to meet him there."

"Right," he agrees, relaxing his shoulders a bit. "Smart thinking."

"So you're good?" I ask, grabbing my keys and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "You're okay with doing this?"

"I'm good," he confirms, nodding. "What time will you be back?"

"I don't know."

"Mmhm. And you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

He quirks a brow. "And you know how to get there?"

I roll my eyes, trying and failing to hide my smile. "Yes."

"I'll be waiting," he says, smirking at me. "Don't stay out too late."

I laugh outright. "Sure thing, Dad."

-0-0-0-

"You look nice," Sam says, settling across from me at the tiny, cloth-covered table. The candle between us flickers seductively, accentuating his long lashes and full lips.

"Thank you," I reply, unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap. "You look good, too."

And he does. He's handsome in jeans and a dress shirt, the top button of which is left open to reveal a hint of white undershirt, the contrasting color and dim lighting making his skin look golden.

The waitress appears to collect our drink orders, offering us a slew of wine choices from a special menu. Once we've ordered, she disappears, leaving us alone once more. An awkward silence settles over us briefly, but Sam is an excellent conversationalist, and he asks and answers questions with ease.

"So Rose tells me you're a mom," he comments after our drinks arrive. His expression remains carefully neutral, and I'm pleased to note the lack of awkwardness or worry in his words.

Nodding, I take a sip of my water. "I am," I confirm. "I have a little girl. She's six."

His eyebrows slide upward. "You don't look old enough to have a six-year-old."

"I was very young," I reply, not quite sure how much Rose has already told him. "Only sixteen."

"Sixteen," he breathes, leaning back in his chair, one long leg crossed over the other. "That must have been really tough."

Tracing a ring of condensation with my finger, I hum in agreement. "It's the hardest thing I've ever done, but it's also been extremely rewarding." I smile at him from across the table. "What about you? Any kids?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, no kids. Sometimes I think I'm still a kid myself."

"My brother," I reply instantly, nodding my head as though I can relate. "He'll be a kid forever, I think."

He laughs outright. "I know Emmett, and I think you're probably right."

My cellphone chirps from within my bag. "Excuse me," I say, blushing. "I'd better check that. My daughter…"

He waves me on good-naturedly, and I dig through my bag to find the source of the noise. My stomach drops like a lead balloon when I see the numbers 9-1-1 next to Edward's name on my text screen.

"It's Ava," I say, already rising from the table. "I'm so sorry…I have to call. I'll be right back." I rush towards the back of the restaurant where I assume the bathrooms are, already dialing Edward as I go.

He answers on the first ring. "Hey," he breathes, sounding relieved. It's quiet in the background, which is a good sign. No crying, no screaming…

"What's wrong?" I ask, rushing my words. "What happened?"

"No, no, everything's fine. Ava's fine. It's just…I can't convince her to sleep in her bed. She wants to sleep in your room." He sounds flustered, and although I can't see him, I'm certain he's scrubbing his fingers through his hair in desperation.

"That's it?" I ask flatly. "You sent me an emergency message because she doesn't want to sleep in her bed?"

"Well I didn't know what to do!" He defends. "I didn't want to mess up."

His eagerness to get the evening right does crazy things to me. It's not the first time I've found the vulnerabilities in this formerly cocky boy frustratingly attractive.

"Just put her in my bed, Edward," I reassure him. "It's fine. She'll probably fall asleep right away."

He's silent on the other end of the line, leading me to wonder if he's upset that I didn't offer more help. "Are you okay?" I ask him quietly. "Do you need me to come home?"

He clears his throat softly. "Oh. Um…no. That's okay. Finish your…date."

I hang up with Edward after making him promise to call me if he's still having trouble getting Ava to sleep. Sam smiles when he sees me approaching the table, standing politely to pull out my chair. Attractive and well-mannered, I observe, somewhat surprised to find that I'm actually looking forward to finishing our evening. "I'm so sorry about that," I tell him, dropping my phone back in my bag. "Bedtime issues."

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, which is often. "No worries," he says, chuckling. "Did you get everything taken care of?" He leans forward slightly and reaches his arm across the table, finding my hand and covering it with his larger, warmer one.

My stomach flutters at his touch. "Yeah," I reply, matching his smile with one of my own. "I think everything's good."

-0-0-0-

It's still relatively early by the time I get home, but if everything went smoothly Ava's probably been asleep for a few hours already. I pull my car into the garage and creep quietly through the kitchen, dropping my purse in a chair and stepping out of my heels. Barefoot, I pad through the house, slowly making my way towards the soft yellow light that spills from my bedroom.

Creeping quietly around the corner, I stop short at the sight before me. Ava's sprawled out like a starfish, an arm or leg pointing to each corner of my bed. The covers are a tangled ball at her feet, and her pajamas are mismatched and twisted. Next to her, Edward sleeps peacefully on his back, fully dressed in jeans and socked feet. One large hand rests on the thin shirt covering his flat stomach while the other stretches across the bed, tightly grasping the hand of his lookalike girl.

Despite everything we've been through, it's the first time he's ever slept in my bed, and it's a sight so sweet in its completeness that it makes my throat burn with the threat of tears. My very favorite person in the world and the one who made her, holding on to each other even in sleep…it's more than this fragile heart can take.

With his book on my nightstand and his head on my pillow, it's impossible to deny the rightness I feel at having Edward here, so completely submerged in our lives. Closing my eyes, I imagine a different journey...a journey that began correctly, with a mom and a dad and a baby created from love.

No matter how hard I try, the end result is always the same: a little green-eyed girl, bonding broken families and healing cracked hearts. Even in her sleep.

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Thanks for reading and for your support and encouragement.