Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight, just so you know.

I posted early because I was so darn excited about all those Rob pics in VF... OMG.

See you guys at the bottom!

Chapter 7 – Spinning

"I can't remember when the earth turned slowly
So I just waited with the lights turned out again
I lost my place but I can't stop this story
I've found my way, but until then
I'm only… spinning"

-Jack's Mannequin

I awoke some hours later, completely disoriented. Masen's face wove in and out of my dreams, combining my reality and dream worlds in a bizarre way. After checking the clock and discovering that it was still early morning I also realized I was still extremely exhausted. I slipped out of my jeans and t-shirt and crawled under the covers of the uncharacteristically comfortable bed, asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow again.

The incessant beeping of my phone finally woke me up for the final time sometime late morning. I groaned at the sight of my missed call log. Six calls were from Alice with two from work and my mother. The only voicemail was from my sister however:

"Edward Anthony, if you don't call me back in thirty minutes, I am getting on a plane and coming to Washington."

I couldn't help but laugh at her. Alice was relentless. God, I loved her. I threw on a sweater and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms I'd packed and stepped onto the small lanai, phone in hand to call her.

"What the hell, Edward?!" she cried in greeting. I sighed and sat down in the lone lounge chair, the view of the bay visible from my seat.

"Hello, Alice." I ran a hand over my face.

"Edward. Please tell me Mother had a little too much gin in her tonic and what she told me is a figment of her over-the-child-bearing-age imagination." Her voice came out in a rush, and I laughed again. "Why are you laughing?"

"I'm not – I promise," I chuckled. "It's just… everything is so weird. I feel like I'm living in the fucking Twilight Zone or something."

"So… Mom wasn't drunk?" she questioned, and I smiled.

"No, Ali. Mom was telling the truth," I explained.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered. "That lying whore. I can't believe her. I'd fucking kill her, but I don't think children should live without mothers."

"Alice!" I cried.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. That was a little much," she said thoughtfully.

"A little." I shook my head.

"Do you want me to come out there?" Her voice was serious, no longer teasing, genuinely worried about me.

"No, Ali… I need to do this by myself," I said softly and she sighed.

"You don't always have to be the hero, Edward," she chastised lightly.

"I'm not. It – it's not like that. He's my son, Ali. I have a son. I just… I need some time for it to sink in. Fuck, I need to meet him before anything else happens," I tried to explain.

"I understand. Trust me, I do. How do you… how are you?" It sounded like she was questioning her question, perhaps not sure how to put her thoughts into words. I comprehended quite clearly, however.

"I don't know," I groaned. "I want to be angry with her. I am angry at her… but I'm angrier with myself, I guess."

"How did you manage that one?" she laughed softly.

"If I wouldn't have left… I would've been there," I mumbled, and heard her sigh.

"You didn't know, Edward. You couldn't have," she said, her voice soothing.

"I don't know… Listen Ali, I've got to get dressed. I need to talk to her." I shoved myself out of the lounge chair and went back inside my room.

"I love you, Edward," she told me and I smiled.

"I know. It will be fine. I'll let you know what happens," I reassured her.

After we hung up I took a shower, our conversation lingering in my mind. What I said was true. What would have happened had I stayed an extra two weeks instead of visiting my parents in London? Would Bella and I have made amends? Surely we would have. We would probably be married now, raising our son together.

I grabbed some lunch and took a walk after my shower, needing a little more time to collect myself before I called Bella again. The bay was quiet and calm, a strange contrast to the turmoil my life had become in the past week. But, if I were being completely honest with myself, it was all brought on me. As much as I wanted to be angry with Bella, I couldn't be. I was the one who'd left, who'd abandoned our life together and asked my family to cut off contact. If the tables were turned and I had been in Bella's position I would have probably done the same thing. Part of me knew that I deserved it, but another part of me, bigger and louder than its counterpart, was hurt and disappointed.

It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was a father. There was a little person out there who looked like me and shared my DNA. I couldn't help but wonder what he was like. I wanted to hear his voice and laugh, to see his smile in reality and not in a picture. Was he like me? Or more like Bella? Did he like draw and create things or read and wonder? I needed to know. So I called her.

~*~

Bella agreed to meet me at a small bar we would frequent when we were in Forks for holiday breaks. She was already there when I arrived, sitting in a booth in the back corner of the room. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, stray tendrils brushing her face as she bent over a stack of papers on the table. She capped the pen in her hand and took a sip of her beer before glancing toward the entrance of the bar where I stood. A small smile crept over her face when she saw me and I could feel my face moving of its own accord in a similar manner. I strode quickly to the booth and took the seat across from her.

"Hey," she said softly and I burst out laughing when I saw what the stack of papers was. "What?" she asked, alarmed.

"Grading papers? In a bar?" I chuckled, and she grinned.

"I take whatever free time I can get," she explained, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. I nodded as if I understood, when in actuality I didn't. I had nothing but free time, although it was hard to work on building plans with EJ laying all over everything. I ordered a beer when the waitress came over and we sat in awkward silence while I waited for her to return.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," I said softly, meeting her warm brown eyes. They were tired and maybe even a little sad. "I shouldn't have left like that."

"I didn't really expect you to stay and talk, Edward," she replied in an effort to make me feel better.

"No. I should have stayed. I should have stayed and asked you all the questions that were running through my mind," I said, my words coming out in a rush. "There were just… so many."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking down at her hands. I resisted the urge to reach over and tilt her face up with my finger.

"I know that we have so many issues to work out here, but really I – I just want to know about him," I told her and she nodded then reached into her back and pulled out a small blue photo album.

"I was hoping you would say that," she slid the book towards me and I took it with shaking hands. Her eyes watched me carefully as I opened it. I was strangely nervous. I felt a weird tightening in my chest I as looked through the book. The time frame of the pictures spanned from the day Masen was born to what looked like a recent school photo from his preschool. I laughed loudly when I came across a picture from Halloween; he was apparently dressed up as Ron Weasley and Emmett stood beside him in full Hagrid gear.

"Em was all about Potter-themed costumes but Masen thought he should be Goyle since he's a big guy… and Em refused to be a Slytherin," she took another sip of her beer, a smile on her face. I laughed; typical Emmett being nerdier than he would ever let anyone believe he really is.

As I flipped to the final page, my expressions changed however. Tucked in the last sleeve was a small blue rectangle. On it, in black ink were Masen's tiny ink footprints and his birth date. Underneath that:

Masen Charles Swan

"He – he doesn't have my last name," I more stated than questioned. I was not mistaken; the paper did not say Cullen.

"No." She reached over and closed the book, taking it from my hands.

"So… do I have any sort of rights to him? As his fucking father?" I could feel the anger starting to build again. Especially since I just flew half way around the fucking world only to find out I had no fucking claim over a son I just discovered I had.

"Edward, please!" she pleaded. "It's just a last name. Of course you have rights; your name is on his birth certificate… I just… I didn't know what to do. You weren't around and I didn't want him to grow up with the whole fucking town talking about him."

I relaxed a little into the booth, calmed, but not completely. He didn't have my last name, so did he know about me at all?

"Did you tell him about me?" I asked softly and she looked up from the little photo album and sighed.

"Bits and pieces." She opened the album again, to the first picture, and gently traced his face with her finger. "He knows you were important to me and that we… cared about each other."

I watched her as she spoke, listening to the past tense words she used as she described our relationship. I took a deep breath and leaned on the table towards her. My hand covered hers, the one that was gently following the lines of Masen's newborn face, and squeezed it softly. Yes, we were past tense. But he was the present, and hopefully the future.

"I need to meet him."

A/N: Thanks to my beta Becca Graymoor for getting this shizit done!

Also, messynachos... I love your face.

There has been much speculation as to what "Edwardy Smell" would actually smell like. And by "much speculation" I mean that messy and I had a thirty minute chat session on it. I said Trojans and Twizzlers, she said Cupcakes and Condoms. We're weird. Anywho, what's he smell like to you? :D

I have another chapter ready and I'm thinking... if we break 50 reviews I'll post it Wednesday *winkwinknudgenudge*

It's up to you :)