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Word Prompt: Flare


"So, for your birthday..." I watch Charlie, waiting for her to look away from my phone, on which I've allowed her to play Endless Alphabet. I try not to lobotomize her with too much screen time, but long car trips are the devil.

She glances at me eventually, realizing that both me and the radio have shut off. "I'm hungry, Mom."

"Okay, but, hold on. I have some apples -"

"I don't want apples!"

"Well, you're not having anything else."

Charlie falls silent, frowning at the screen. I pluck my phone from her hands, well aware that driving while engaging in shenanigans with an almost-four year old is pretty much the opposite of safe.

"Do you want the apples or not?"

"Yah, Mom. Please."

I reach over into her backpack and grab the plastic baggie I prepared before leaving the house. Giving it to her, I adjust the radio so it's playing low. "All right. Charlie. For your birthday, do you want a Frozen cake or something with Peppa?"

"Peppa!"

I do an inner fist pump, though Peppa's a close runner up to Things I'm Sick Of. "Ok, great. We can do a pretty pink cake -"

"I want two cakes. Chocolate and vanilla."

"How about cupcakes?"

"No, Mom!" she cries. "Please!"

"Okay, okay. Cake it is." I glance at her in the rear view mirror, wondering about her sudden aversion to cupcakes. "But just one. With 2 layers."

"With M&Ms," she adds, probably because Edward shares her love for them.

We pull up to my father's house about fifteen minutes later. I take Charlie out of her carseat, sliding her backpack on so that she can carry it, and then grab the grocery bags from the trunk. Inside, the house smells amazing, like Sue's legendary chili. I meet my stepmother in the kitchen, where she's got Charlie in her arms as they peek into a pot on the stove.

"It's chili, Mom," Charlie informs me, wiggling to get down.

"Mm." Giving Sue a hug, I hand over the two loaves of french bread I brought. "Want me to get started with this?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Garlic's in the fridge."

"Okay. I'm just gonna go find Dad real quick."

She hums her approval and I walk through the house, following the sound of my daughter's excited chirping. I find them in the living room, where Big Charlie's showing little Charlie the new jigsaw puzzle he's started. He thinks she's old enough to start helping, but I have my doubts. I always detested puzzles as a child, though, so maybe I'm wrong.

"Hi, Dad," I say, bending to hug him, rubbing my cheek against his.

He grins from his chair, tapping a puzzle piece against the table. "Hey there, Bells. What's this I hear about two birthday cakes?"

"Yeah, right," I laugh. "It'll be a layer cake. Just one. Anyway, I'll let you know what day we're doing her party...depends on work and all that."

"Okey dokey. Let me know if you need help with that." He turns back to Charlie and the puzzle.

I watch them for a moment more; Charlie actually seems fascinated by the puzzle. Easing away, I return to the kitchen to help Sue make garlic bread and salad. It's been way too long since we had a family dinner at their house - Em, Rose and the kids should be here any minute - and I resolve to make time the way I used to. There's no denying that the growth of our business, as well as my relationship with Edward, has made me busier than ever. It's a juggling act, but I really want to maintain some semblance of balance.

The doorbell rings, and in run Embry and Makenna. In seconds the house Em and I grew up in feels a lot like it did when we were kids, full of noise and cozy cooking smells.

After dinner, we crowd into the living room with Sue's chess pie and coffee to watch recaps of the latest Sounders game. My dad's been getting more into it, saying he's actually watched a couple of Edward's games.

"Think he could get an old guy a ticket or two?" he asks, reaching for the leftover crust on Sue's plate.

It's his way of acknowledging the seriousness of my relationship. Looks like I need to tell him about our plans. "Definitely. Maybe we can go together."


Edward watches helplessly as I toss the goopy mess that should be a soufflé into the trash. It's the third one.

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," I whisper, squinting through tears of frustration. The soufflé I've been working on all morning keeps imploding and looking more like poop than something served at a classy evening wedding. It's been a couple of years since I handled the stuff, but it's never given me problems like this.

Also, my assistant Maggie - who is in her first trimester - called a little while ago to let me know she wouldn't be coming today. Her morning sickness, which has been sporadic, chose this weekend to flare up. It's been so severe over the past forty eight hours that she's en route to her doctor to see if he can get her a prescription for Zofran. I feel awful for her, because I remember my own morning sickness, but I feel bad for me, too, and the fact I now have to do the work of two.

Meanwhile, Charlie is being a terror and won't nap - in fact, she's in timeout again - and I'm tired from being up late, working on the wedding cake. And now? I'm going to have to run back to the store to get more supplies for the stupid, frigging soufflé.

Poor Edward should be asleep right now. After crappy weather back east, including a tornado, his plane was grounded until midnight. By the time he made it home via cab, we were asleep on the couch, dinner cold in the kitchen.

It's been a weird weekend, but what can I say? Sometimes life goes to shit.

But there's a bright side: Edward. I've missed him like crazy, so just having him here helps.

"Why don't you work on the brownies or something? Chuck and I will go to the store for your stuff," he says, gesturing, stepping between me and the chocolate splattered counter. "Make a list of what you need."

"Are you sure?" I chew my thumbnail anxiously. "There are very specific brands I use, and -"

"Then make a very specific list."

"Okay." I take a deep breath and exhale really slowly, like i do in yoga with Rose...yoga I had to skip today because of today's food prep. "You're sure?"

"Yes." He walks out of the room, and a minute later I hear him jingling his keys. "Hey, Chuck. Want to come to the store with me?"

He's never taken her anywhere by himself. It's always the three of us together, going to dinner or the park...he still hasn't mastered her carseat. "Do you want to take my car?" I call.

"No," he calls back.

"What about the carseat?"

"I'll handle it."

I don't have the energy to fight him. If we're going to do this…be a team...he's going to have to deal with the carseat. "Okay," I say, swallowing back my argument. I quickly jot a list, double checking to make sure it has absolutely everything I need, and then hand it over.

Edward's by the front door with Charlie, buckling her sandals. "We're going to the store, Mom."

"I know, thank you so much," I say, handing Edward the list when he straightens up. "I'll uh, have my phone right by me. Call me if you have any questions. Any at all."

"We'll be okay," he says, kissing me.


By six o'clock I'm done for the day.

I take pictures of the sweets table - flawless soufflés and all - and pack up my stuff, eager to be gone before the bridal party arrives.

Exhausted, I make my way to the Aston Martin idling in the parking lot behind the venue. Charlie's asleep in her carseat, drooling all over her shirt, while Edward taps away on his iPad. "You're all set?"

"Yes." I nod, tucking myself gratefully into the passenger seat. "Thanks for bringing me."

"No problem." He smiles wryly. "It is, technically, my business too."

After the soufflé disaster earlier, I'd run perilously short on time. Instead of taking Charlie to Rose's while I worked, Edward drove me, helping me carry everything inside and then watching Charlie until I was done.

The whole day has been a lesson in the importance of backup plans. Between Maggie's calling out and Emmett's injury, we've been a little short-staffed. My mistake was assuming that because the wedding was so small, I could make do without extra help, but I was wrong. Mike had been in a similar pickle, working double time with his team to have everything set up on time.

"You hungry?" Edward asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

"Kind of. Yeah. Did you have something in mind?"

"Burritos."

"Like Taco Bell, or..." I'm goading him, knowing what a fast food snob he can be.

"Real burritos."

I smile, yawning. "Gorditos."

"Mind reader."

"Bit of a trek from this side of town." I look back at Charlie, but she's out for the count.

"Yeah. You down?"

My stomach growls. "So down."

We make the drive in good time, listening to the Arctic Monkeys album Edward recently downloaded. Opting for take out, he leaves us in the car while he runs into Gorditos, which is packed - normal for a Saturday night.

I must doze off, because I'm startled when Edward busts back into the car, loaded down with delicious smelling bags. "Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay."

We start driving again, but not toward home. Figuring there's another errand he needs to run, I don't think much of it until he turns into Kerry Park. It's one of the most picturesque spots in the city, and right now, with the sun about to set, it's at its most lovely. Several photographers have set up tripods and are snapping away, capturing the onset of evening as the Seattle skyline glimmers dreamily ahead.

"Come," he says, opening his door.

"What about Charlie?"

"We'll leave the car running. I just want to sit outside for a minute. Watch the sunset."

"Ooh, okay." As if I could turn that down. Grabbing the bags, I open my door and follow him out to lean against the hood.

We chow down in companionable silence. Guess I was hungrier than I'd realized.

"This is so good," I almost whisper, not wanting to disturb the quiet that seems to have descended over the park.

"I know..." He nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

The sun has set now, leaving the world a soft, dusky, silver.

Edward takes the now empty bags and sets them aside, drawing me close. "I did bring you here for a reason."

"Okay." My heart starts pounding, because, you know. I've seen movies. I've read books.

"I was going to wait until the end of August…the official end of the season..."

Pressing my hands against my jeans so they don't shake, I peek up at him.

He swallows, and then smiles, taking a little box from the pocket of his jacket.

As he opens it I chicken out and cover my face, completely overwhelmed.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Look at me."

I put my hands down and turn toward him.

"Marry me?"

"Yes."

He thumbs the tears from my eyes before gently taking my left hand and sliding a ring onto my finger.


*You - Gold Panda

you know, my husband never really proposed. i'll keep writing them until he makes up for it. ;)

thanks for reading. love you guys.

xo