Disclaimer: I own nothing. Stephenie owns it all.
A/N: So... thanks to Becca Graymoor for reminding me I shouldn't write while I drink and Messynachos for reading everything I send to her :)
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Chapter 12 – Visitation Rights
BPOV
Sleeping in the same house as Edward was more difficult that I thought it would be. Part of me-- a smaller (very small, I promised myself), weaker part-- wished that I would hear his footsteps coming down the hall and see him push open the door, at which point he would rip off my clothes and ravage me until I couldn't walk. I wished we could stay in bed all day together like we used to, or cuddle up on the couch with our son between us, watching silly movies and simply loving each other.
That's not happening, I thought as I groaned and sat up in bed, running my hands through my tangled web of hair. My hormones were confusing the hell out of me as of late when it came to Edward. I couldn't help but think about it as I showered, the way my moods had been out of balance since his return. It had always been that way between the two of us. He was always making me absolutely fucking crazy or causing me to fall in love with him over and over again. Lately… it was the latter. Seeing him with Masen opened up a whole new can of worms-- or emotions, in my case. It had been just over a week since he had returned, but on some days he was absolutely forgiven, whereas others, I hated him more than I could possibly imagine hating someone.
I didn't know if what I was experiencing was real anymore, so I ignored everything that I was feeling and focused on getting ready for the day. I dressed for work, fixing my hair and makeup quickly, then went to wake up Masen. For a brief second, I panicked, noticing he wasn't in his room. Then I saw the bed was made, and that left me confused. It was also odd, considering he had to be told six times to pick up a damn Hot Wheels car after Emmett nearly broke his neck on it. I saw that the bed Edward had slept in was made also and silently thanked Esme for raising such a good housekeeper.
As I sauntered downstairs I heard voices in the kitchen and smelled some sort of breakfast being prepared. I couldn't help but smile at the domestic scene in the room. Edward was sitting at my small kitchen table, a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. Masen was watching his Uncle Emmett, clad in my paisley apron, cook them French toast.
"Hey Mama," Masen smiled when he saw me, then jumped out of his chair and ran to me. I lifted him into my arms and kissed his face over and over, until he was clinging to me and giggling. "I missed you," he said, burying his face into my neck, and I held him tighter.
"I missed you, too," I whispered, setting him down so he could eat the breakfast that Emmett was now serving. As I sat down at the table, Edward stood up to fill his coffee cup and surprised me by handing one of my own. "Thanks," I said softly and he smiled. I could feel the heat creep up my face remembering seeing his half-naked body in my brother's bedroom last night.
"Ewarf's 'oing 'oo 'ake meh 'oo sool," Masen said through a mouth of French toast.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scolded him, sipping my coffee. He swallowed and watched me until I turned to him.
"Edward's going to take me to school," he said with a grin that was not impeded by soggy bread. I watched Masen smile up at his father, who returned his perfect smile without hesitation and felt my chest tighten. I had imagined the two of them together for so many years that it was almost too real. It was funny, because my imagination had not been far off, a plus of knowing Edward nearly my entire life, I supposed. I always knew he would make a wonderful father and the past few days of seeing him interact with our son only made validated my active imagination.
"Are you sure?" I turned to Edward, who merely shrugged, then snorted when Emmett removed my apron and sat down with us. "Really, Emmett? What did I tell you about that stupid shirt?!" I hissed under my breath, hoping Masen wouldn't hear. Edward covered his face with the newspaper, but I could see his shoulders shaking with laughter at my idiot brother wearing a t-shirt with the words "The Man", an arrow pointing at him, "The Legend" with the arrow to his crotch.
"What? It's hilarious," he groused good-naturedly, and shoved a forkful in his mouth and grinned like the Cheshire cat.
"Mama?" Masen tugged at my sleeve his green eyes inquisitive. "What does that mean?" He pointed a tiny hand in Emmett's direction.
"Eat your breakfast," I stated, returning my attention to my plate.
"Edward?" he asked, turning to his father.
"Hmm?" Edward pretended to be too engrossed in the newspaper to answer.
"What does Uncle Emmett's shirt mean? What is the arrow pointing to?" he asked.
"His shoes," Edward answered and turned the page idly, sipping his coffee to occupy his mouth while Emmett chuckled softly.
"Are you sure?" Masen questioned again, and when Edward didn't answer he turned to his uncle. "Uncle Emmett, why do you have an arrow pointing to your shoes? It looks like it's pointing to your belt. Are you trying to show people your underwear? Do you want them to see? Can I have a shirt like that, Mama?"
"Go brush your teeth," I ordered, and patted him absently on the head. I could see him scowl out of the corner of my eye and had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He slid off his chair and stomped out of the room. "I'm going to burn that fucking shirt," I whispered menacingly.
EPOV
I borrowed Masen's booster seat from Emmett and strapped it into the Volvo while he collected his things. Just as I went inside to get him, James pulled up. He followed me silently up the porch and into the house. Bella looked up, shocked, from tying Masen's shoe and stood up quickly.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, most likely trying to set it on fire with his gaze.
"Is it not Monday?" he asked rudely. She stared at him, a confused look on her face, until understanding dawned on it and she smiled sheepishly. "Do we not drive to work together every single Monday?"
"Sorry… I forgot," she blushed as she put Masen's backpack on him and turned him to me. "Have a good day, baby," she murmured, kissing the top of his head. He smiled back at her, grabbed my hand, and ignored James on the way out. I watched Masen's face as we walked to the car, the same smile he had given his mother still glued on it. It was amazing, the love and devotion that you could clearly see between the two of them, and how he could put it all into one smile. I felt as though I could watch the two of them together for hours. The way they fed off each other's energy and personalities and how they knew each other's facial expressions and gestures made me jealous but warmed my heart at the same time. Fatherhood was weird.
"What the fuck is he doing here still?" I heard James say just before the door shut. Masen looked at me with wide emerald eyes.
"He said a bad word," my son said quietly and I nodded, trying not to laugh.
"Let's not worry about him, huh?" I said as he climbed into the car and I strapped him into the seat.
"'Kay," he answered. "Maybe Mama will wash his mouth out with soap. That's what she always says to Uncle Emmett." I laughed at that and started the car, eager to see his school and meet his friends.
As I pulled into the parking lot of the small preschool, I was suddenly nervous. My palms were sweaty and I could feel the contents of my stomach threatening to come up again. I knew I was being stupid-- I mean, they were kids, right? But as we got out of the car, I realized that, no, it wasn't just kids. Kids had moms. And moms gossiped. A lot.
Masen took my hand as we walked up the steps to his school and waved to a little black-haired boy and his mother. The mother looked up from tying her son's shoe to smile at Masen. Her eyes widened when she saw me, then she looked away quickly. Masen kept waving to people as we walked the hall to his classroom. I walked in with him, helped him hang his backpack, and he dragged me by the hand to his teacher.
"Miss Jessica!" He tapped a small brown-headed woman on the hip. She turned and smiled at him, ruffling his hair. "This is Edward," he announced, grinning proudly, and patted my stomach. I stuck my hand out to introduce myself, but stopped short when I realized I already knew her.
"Edward Cullen?" she asked, a knowing look on her face.
"Jessica Stanley," I stated, more than asked. I hadn't seen her since she and Bella graduated high school, but it wasn't as if she'd changed any in the past 9 or so years.
"Newton, actually," she smiled, flashing her left hand clad with a shiny wedding band.
"I thought I heard that," I nodded, "Congratulations? Belated, of course."
"Just a few years," she laughed, and her eyes slid between Masen and I. "I guess I don't really have to ask why you're here, do I?" she asked softly.
"No, I guess not." I mussed Masen's hair again and he attempted to glare at me, though it only made him more adorable.
"Masen, why don't you show Edward where you sit?" she asked and he pulled me over to a small table. He proceeded to show me his nametag, cubby, the class pet (a very fat guinea pig), some of his artwork that had been hung up, and the bathroom that the kids were allowed to use with a miniature-sized toilet.
"We're going to get started," Jessica said, and tapped my shoulder softly as I stood marveling at a painting Masen had made. It wasn't anything spectacular, nonsense shapes and colors, but it could've been a freaking Picasso for all I cared. "You're welcome to stay," she added, following my gaze to where Masen was sitting, writing his name over and over.
"No," I smiled, "I have some things to do."
"Are you sure?" she asked, her eyebrows arched.
"Yeah. People to see and all that," I joked lamely. I excused myself from her and went to tell Masen goodbye.
"Do you have to leave?" he asked with sad eyes.
"Yeah, I've got to go visit some old friends," I explained, and he was thoughtful for a moment.
"Can you ask Mama if you can pick me up?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Of course." I kissed his head and he went back to writing his name. I waved to Jessica and could feel the eyes of the parents on me as I made my way to the parking lot. I couldn't help but smirk to myself and wonder just how the small town gossips would feel about this one.
It wasn't much later that I pulled into the driveway of the house I'd been dreading visiting, but knew that I had to. Even if it was just to ease my own guilt. I knocked on the door and waited impatiently, my heart pounding in my ears. I heard footsteps on the other side of the door and fought the urge to vomit when the door finally opened. Sue Swan stood on the other side of the door, a look of shock on her face. I smiled tentatively as she attempted to compose herself.
"I was wondering when we would be seeing you! Seth's been talking about you for days," she said as she walked through the cluttered foyer and into the living room. "Come in, son. And close the door, it's chilly outside."
I smiled to myself as I stepped in the house, closing the door behind me. The home was cozy, a bit bigger than the one Bella and Emmett had grown up in, the walls and tables scattered with pictures of Masen, Emmett and Bella, and Seth and Leah. I found Sue in the kitchen where she handed me a newspaper and two cups of coffee, then motioned for me to follow her. She held the door opened and gestured to the back porch.
"He's out there," she said with a small smile on her lips. "Good luck." I walked down a short path behind the house and found Charlie sitting by the river. Years ago he would've been lounging in an old camp chair stuck in the river bank, but the newly refined Charlie was sitting on a wooden deck built over the bank in a wicker chair. A wicker chair that was part of an outdoor furniture set. A roll of fishing line was sitting next to him on the table, and he was working diligently on the reel in his hands. I set the coffee and newspaper down, sipping at my own cup.
"Thanks, honey," Charlie said without looking up. "Can you hand me those pliers?" He held out his hand.
"Sure thing, Chief," I said, startling him. He dropped his reel and it bounced dangerously close to the end of the deck. I picked it up quickly and he glared at me. "Sorry," I mumbled. He took the reel from my hand and gestured to the empty seat. I sat down quickly, waiting for him to speak.
"So… I see Emmett and Seth have left you alive. I can only assume the killin' part is up to me," he muttered, and went back to working on his reel. My body went rigid in the fancy wicker chair, the coffee no longer warming me but turning to ice with everything else in my body.
"Uh…" was all I managed to say.
He chuckled darkly. "I'm kidding, boy," he said gruffly, setting down what he had been working on and picking up his coffee. "I wouldn't do that to my girl…or to that little monster," he laughed again.
"He's something else," I mused. I could feel Charlie's eyes on me as I watched the water ripple in the light breeze.
"He got you too, huh?" I turned to Charlie and the side of his mustache was twitching into a smile. I couldn't help but return his smile and nod in agreement.
"It wasn't that hard." I looked down at my coffee cup and could see him nod out of the corner of my eye.
"Very true," he stated. "So… what are your plans, kid?"
"My plane leaves Thursday night," I answered almost inaudibly. I could hear his sharp intake of breath. He set his cup down and turned his gaze to me. It took all the courage I had left in me to return his gaze, finding it hard to when his eyes were so like Bella's.
"You'd do that to her again? To them again?" he asked. Though his voice was quiet there was no denying the anger there.
"I never – if I would've known - " I rambled, trying and failing desperately to defend myself.
"I know, kid. I know." Charlie leaned back in his chair and shifted his gaze to something I couldn't see. "We tried to convince her… but she was pretty stuck on not telling you. So damn stubborn all the time."
"That she is," I murmured and he barked a laugh.
"Seriously though, kid. Emmett, Sue, and I… we tried real hard, even after all that happened. She didn't want to hold you back though, whatever that means," he shrugged.
"I would've come back," I said in an effort to convince him. He turned to me slowly, a knowing look on his face.
"I know," he nodded. "We all know."
"I'd do anything, anything, for my son," I stated.
"Well… make sure you do it, then. That boy deserves better," Charlie said as he heaved himself out of the chair and looked toward the house. I couldn't help but ponder the meaning behind his words as we walked up to the house. I didn't understand what, or who, he meant by 'deserves better'. Maybe Emmett wasn't the only one who disapproved of James… "Come inside, I'm sure Sue is dying to show you all the pictures we've got."
Charlie was right: his wife had albums and scrapbooks filled with pictures of Masen. They had cute anecdotal stories they shared with me as well as drawings, paintings, and gifts he had made or given them. The joy they shared spending their lives as grandparents to Masen was quite apparent.
"Potty training was the worst," Charlie reminisced, chuckling at the thought, and Sue shook her head. "Poor Seth."
"What happened?" I inquired.
"It was around Bella's birthday, Masen had just turned two. But we'd all decided that we were going to help her with the potty training and decided to start early," Charlie started.
"I was in the middle of making Bella's birthday cake when I noticed we were out of eggs, so all I did was send Seth to the store," Sue interjected and I had to smile at the way they were finishing each other's sentences. I had seen Charlie alone for so long that it was refreshing to watch him with someone he truly loved.
"Masen had to go with his uncle, they were practically inseparable. And I'll be damned if that kid didn't realize that he had to go while they were in the supermarket." Charlie laughed and I could sense something horrible was about to happen in the story.
"Seth came home, mortified." Sue shook her head at the memory of her son's story. "Masen had wet himself, then stripped down all his clothes in the middle of the store in a matter of minutes. He of course didn't think anything of it, but I didn't get my eggs."
I laughed, feeling slightly sad that I hadn't been there to witness the stories and wondering how I was going to be able to leave when I had already fallen so deep for this kid. The back of my mind was past thinking out holidays and vacations and had moved on to new jobs and houses I could buy.
I was nearly giddy when I left them to go talk to Bella. I wasn't sure if she would have her phone on her so I decided to go directly to the high school and speak with her.
I pulled into the familiar parking lot of Fork's High School, shut off the car, and traipsed to the front office. It was to my great surprise that Mrs. Cope was sitting behind the desk. Her eyes widened with surprise when she saw me, and her wrinkled cheeks flushed pink.
"Edward Cullen," she clucked her tongue and I smiled.
"Mrs. Cope." I inclined my head towards her.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, batting her old-lady eyelashes at me.
"I'm here to see Miss Swan." I leaned against the counter and peered down at her.
"Of course you are," she mumbled under her breath. She handed me a map of the school (as if I needed it) and directed me to Bella's classroom. My fingers trailed along the lockers as I made my way through the empty hallways to the English building. My mind flooded with the memories of my years here.
October 1998
"You keep staring at Newton like that and he's gonna ask you to prom," Emmett teased, smacking my shoulder, and I turned my glare to him.
"What?" I asked, startled. Had I been staring at Mike Newton? I mean, he was nice looking, but definitely not my type. I preferred the brunette that he was currently fawning over. However, it would be a cold day in hell when I told Emmett Swan that I was cursing Newton to the fiery depths of hell because I had secretly made out with his baby sister in a dark corner of the gym that very morning.
"Dude, what's with you?" Emmett asked as my eyes traveled back to Mike and Bella.
"Sorry… didn't sleep much. Newton's trying for my position, and it's pissing me off," I said, noticing the double meaning behind my own words.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure he can't catch anything I throw," Emmett grinned and I tried to return his smile. Quarterback and receiver, lifelong best friends. How would he feel about me if he knew how I felt about her?
"I know you will." I punched him in the shoulder, hurting my hand in the process.
"I've gotta get to Chem. You gonna be alright? Don't go raping Newton while I'm gone," he admonished, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, and I rolled my eyes. I watched my best friend walk away and turned back to creeping on Bella and Mike, almost losing my shit when he reached out and twirled a piece of her long chocolate hair around his finger. Fuck, no. I thought. She's mine. It took me all of three seconds to get from one end of the hallway to the other. I grabbed Bella's elbow, pulling her away from a bewildered Mike Newton and into the closest empty room I could find. She followed me silently, confused. When the door to the classroom closed behind us, I pushed her up against the wall and looked briefly into her wide brown eyes before covering her mouth with my own. She tried to push me away at first, but her pushes became pulls and soon we were both gasping for air.
"I hate Mike Newton," I said through clenched teeth, before opening the door and throwing myself into the throng of people, leaving Bella in the empty classroom.
I smiled at that particular memory and realized that I had made it to Bella's classroom. Peering in the window, I could see her at the front of the room with a male student at her side. She was talking and gesturing to him, and as she turned her back to the door, I quietly slipped in and took a seat in the back row. I watched as she interacted with her students, acting out the final scene of Romeo and Juliet.
"So," she said, taking a seat on her desk and gesturing for the boy to take a seat. "Romeo's just walked in to find his love presumably dead. You're Romeo. What do you do?" She clasped her hands in her lap and looked out at the class. They looked around at each other before hands started to rise. "Alison?" She called on a girl in the front row.
"Well… it's a tough choice, right? We all know what Romeo did, but I mean… I've never loved anyone except Justin Timberlake," the girl said and blushed as the glass erupted in giggles, "so, I guess I would leave? That's scary."
"Love is scary, Alison; it's about sacrifice and dedication. I doubt what you feel for JT is as strong as what Romeo and Juliet felt," Bella smiled and the girl nodded, giggling to herself.
"What about Mr. Nichols? Is that how you feel about him?" A brown-haired girl two seats away from me asked. Bella blushed and the class 'ooo-ed'.
"Ah, but that's not what we're learning about, is it Kelly?" Bella tapped her head and avoided the question. "Again, you're Romeo. What do you do? Die with your love? Or move on?"
"You die," I spoke up, loud and clear. All heads turned in my direction, eyes wide.
"Why?" she asked, masking her surprise at seeing me in the back of her class.
"What's the point of living when the only love you've ever know no longer exists?" I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand, awaiting her response.
"So you don't believe that either one of them could move on? Find another mate?"
"No, not a perfect match," I shrugged. "Unless you don't believe in that kind of stuff." I could feel the corner of my mouth turning into a smile.
She bit her lip and looked at her feet in the attempt to clear her thoughts. "Class dismissed. I want a one page, only one page," she emphasized, "essay on what you would do if you were Romeo. By Friday!" she called over collective groaning as the students filed out.
I stayed in my seat, feeling the eyes of the students on me as they filed out.
"Is he?" I heard one girl ask another.
"He's gotta be, they look just alike," her friend whispered. Bella cleared her throat loudly and the girls scurried past.
"Are you trying to cause a teenage ovary explosion?" she said, hands on her hips.
"What?" I spluttered, laughing.
"Ugh." She sat down at her desk and stared at me through small slits of brown. "You can be so dense."
"You of all people should know that, Iz." I got up from the back row and took a seat in a desk directly in front of hers. "This feels like a really bad porno," I chuckled and she rolled her eyes.
"Or a really good one," she vamped, and waggled her eyebrows.
"So… where's your boyfriend's room?" I asked, thoroughly ruining the joking atmosphere.
"Next building," she sighed. "What are you doing here, anyways?" she asked as she twirled in her roller chair.
"Masen wanted me to pick him up from school, but I wasn't sure if I could call while you were in class," I shrugged, leaning back in my seat.
"Sure," she nodded then looked down, picking at a piece of her desk calendar. "How much longer?"
"Thursday night," I whispered. "I have to go. I have responsibilities."
"I know," she smiled, bringing her face back to mine. "He's going to miss you," she said softly and I laughed.
"I'm going to miss him. That's what I wanted to talk to you about…" I watched her face for any sign of protest while I spoke about weekly phone calls, emails, and possible visits. I gave her my ideas about holidays and vacations while all I really wanted to tell her was that I was going to stay. That I was going to quit my job-- to hell with my dreams; they'd already been fulfilled by my son's glorious presence. But I didn't. Instead, I promised her we'd work out a schedule, something that worked for all of us, to ensure that I would be a part of his life.
"It sounds reasonable, Edward," she said, and got up from her desk and stood at the edge of where I sat. "Thank you… for wanting him," she murmured, and touched the top of my head softly before walking out and leaving me alone in the room.
I left shortly afterward, not bothering to look for her and not wanting to run into James in the process. Things were difficult enough as it was. I could feel the glances and hear the whispers as I walked through the now crowded halls. I hadn't noticed that I'd spent so much time with Charlie and Sue or lurking around the halls of Forks' High. It was time to pick up Masen from school.
~*~
I stood outside the preschool amongst the crowd hearing, for the second time today, whispers about me. I must've been wearing my "Please talk about me loud and inconspicuously because I'm deaf" shirt. I didn't have to suffer long because Masen was the first one out the door. He ran to me, grinning as I swung him up in my arms. I felt a pang of sadness in my heart knowing that I wouldn't be able to do this every day.
"Did you have a good day?" I asked as we walked past the gossipers to the car. He climbed in the back and buckled himself in expertly.
"Yep. We painted our families," he said, and held out a piece of paper from the backseat. I took it, again marveling at the messy shapes and colors, barely making out the eight figures he painted. He'd put himself between the likeness of myself and Bella; Charlie, Sue, Emmett, Seth, and Leah completed the picture. "You can keep it."
I looked in the rearview mirror to see him smiling broadly at me. "Thanks, buddy," I smiled back at him. I sent Bella a quick text letting her know I'd picked him up and that I was taking him for ice cream before pulling out of the parking lot. Sure, I was new to this "father" thing, but I was fairly certain that ice cream helped when you were breaking bad news to a child. Of course, when I thought about it, it was probably the reason I didn't like ice cream that much. I mentally cursed my father for breaking the news of my childhood dog's death over a cone of Rocky Road. Hopefully, Masen wouldn't resent me, or ice cream, for the rest of his life.
"Can you take me to a movie this weekend?" Masen asked after he swallowed a mouthful of Superhero ice cream.
"Um… Actually Mase… I'm not going to be here this weekend," I said as he lifted another spoonful to his mouth.
He set his spoon down and frowned at me. "Where are you going?" he asked quietly.
"I have to go back to Australia," I explained, though it broke my heart to do it. Though he was young, I felt it best to be completely honest with him. "My job is there…" I said in a weak attempt to make him understand.
"Don't you want to spend time with me?" he inquired, his lower lip trembling. Oh, fuck. Tears. I had not anticipated him crying, nor did I have any idea what to do with a crying child besides hand them off to a parent. Parent. Shit, that was me.
"I do… there are just some things I have to do there," I said as I pulled him off the cracked vinyl seat and into my lap. He buried his sticky face into my oxford, a gesture that would have made my sister cringe. I rested my chin on his head and rubbed his back in soothing circles.
When he looked up at me, his eyelashes were wet with tears. "Will you call me?"
"Every day… if you want," I told him and he smiled minutely. "And I can come and visit or you can come see me."
"Australia is far. Mama showed me on the 'lobe." He picked at the button on my shirt, quiet and thoughtful.
"I know," I sighed and wondered just how in the hell we were going to survive this.
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