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Word Prompt: Kettle

Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about springing into action.

In the morning, there's a text message from sometime last night. Edward was able to speak to his mother after all, because he managed to catch an earlier flight. Much earlier. I glance at the time; he'll probably be landing in the next half hour.

He won't get my response until he lands, but I peck out a message anyway.

i'll be curbside. wait for me.

Charlie's already up, puttering around her room in her jammies.

"Hey, baby. Listen...we're going to skip school today, okay? We need to pick Edward up from the airport."

"Okay, Mom." She stretches, plopping back down on her bed.

Taking advantage of her sleepy acquiescence, I wrestle her feet into shoes and grab a jacket just in case. "We'll get McDonalds for breakfast, okay?"

"Okay!" She jumps up, energized by the promise of greasy delight.

There's no time for a wake-up shower. I brush my hair, trade sweatpants for jeans, and pull a hoodie on over my tee shirt. "Ready, Charlie?"

"Yah!"

She's amazingly cooperative when junk food's involved.

A light drizzle meets us the second we step outside. I pick Charlie up and jog to the car, getting us buckled up and on our way as quickly as I can. I try to explain the best I can that Edward's dad is sick, and that we're all going to go see him today.

Traffic's heavy due to a small accident on the interstate. We crawl along until we pass it, and then I speed up - a little; I have no desire to be in accident of my own. By the time we reach arrivals, Edward's already standing at the curb, talking to a couple of teammates. I pull up, rolling down the window right as he looks over at me. My heart gives a familiar thump when we make eye contact.

"Hey."

"Hey." His face softens into a grin, and glances back at his friends. "I'll see you guys soon."

They clap him on the back, offering words of support as he tosses his bag in the trunk and climbs in.

"I could've taken a cab," he says right away , pressing a warm kiss to my mouth.

I start to protest, to explain myself, but of course Charlie butts in, legs kicking. "Hi, Edward!"

"Hey, Chuck." He twists around, tugging on her foot. "What're you doing up so early?"

"I'm at the airport."

Having no reply for that, Edward snorts, majorly amused. "Imagine if we were like that. No bs; just, it is what it is."

Laughing, I shake my head. "Yeah, pretty sure only kids that age can it pull it off."

His hand lands on my thigh, and he squeezes. "So...as I was saying. You didn't have to come out. Not this early."

"No - I wanted to be here. I wanted to come."

He stares at me for a moment; I feel it, though I keep my eyes on the road. "Thank you."

"Sure." I rest my hand on top of his. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, considering. I don't know what to expect when I see him, though. He's never been sick. Ever."

We don't really speak after that, but it's a comfortable silence. He knows I'm here, and that I want to be. That this is what it's about.

At the hospital, Carlisle's been moved to another room while he finishes getting all of his tests done. I hang out in the waiting room with Charlie, trying to keep her entertained with magazines and quiet phone apps. Now that we're actually at Harborview, she's got questions. What happened to Edward's dad? Why, Mom? Is he sad? Is he okay?

"Looking like one more night," Edward says, emerging sooner than I exepct. "We can, uh...go."

"You sure? We can wait. Or I can come back for you..."

"No, actually, he's a little out of it." He frowns, clasping his hands behind his head. "Not out of it. Just really tired."

"He was probably up half the night being prodded and poked. No one gets rest in the hospital."

"Yeah." He nods, dropping his hands. "I just needed to see him. Make sure he was okay."

Taking his hands, I pull him into a hug. "I know."

After a while, Charlie squirms between us. I'm about to admonish her - this is about Edward right now - but he just tightens his grip on me for a second and then lets go, bending to pick her up. Our eyes meet over her shoulder. I don't know what he sees in mine, but in his, I see such affection. For me, but really - for Charlie.

I wonder how these things happen, if they are a gradual build or a series of moments. Or both, maybe.

"Anyway. I'm starving."

"Mom said McDonalds, Edward."

Edward makes a face.

"Food snob," I mouth.

"Is your Dad feeling better now?" Charlie asks. "Is he feeling happy?"

"I think so," Edward says, giving her a small smile.

I let him drive. We grab breakfast from the McDonalds nearest his place- oatmeal for him, of course - and then he heads home.

"You coming in?" he asks, taking his bags from the trunk.

I shake my head, tucking my hair behind my ears. "No. We left a little abruptly...so... I have a few things to do."

He nods, understanding. "Chuck going over to Em's?"

"No, actually. I was just planning on keeping her home with me."

"All right." He kisses me softly, resting his hand behind my neck, warm against my skin. "Well." Another kiss. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem." I kiss him back, not so softly.

Around five thirty, he calls.

Shutting the kettle off as it starts to boil, I grab my phone from the counter. "Hello?"

"Hey. What're you up to?"

"Just folding laundry. Making tea," I say. "Why, what's up?"

"Want to get dinner? We can go back to the park..."

It's still light out. On a whim, not to mention a genuine desire to avoid cooking, I agree.

After picking us up, Edward drives to this deli I've never been to. He swears by their bread, says it's made fresh there every day. We find a park and settle on the grass to eat while the sun sets.

Charlie eats half of her gourmet PB&J and kettle chips and then runs around, leaving her shoes beside me. I watch for awhile, admiring her little girl tan, the way the sun filters through the end of her hair.

"My mom was kind of a wreck last night," Edward says.

"Oh no. Really?"

He nods.

"She was completely calm when I spoke to her," I say, remembering.

"Holding it together. That's how she is. I called her as soon as I got her messages...and that was it. She started crying." He scrubs his hands over his face. "She was just really worried."

Edward's parents are incredibly close, always have been. I can only imagine how terrified Esme must have been, wondering if Carlisle was going to pull through. I know his heart attack was classified as minor, but some things are major just by happening at all.

"I hate feeling that powerless, you know? But it was a wake up call."

"For...your dad?" I ask. "To take care of himself?"

"Well, yeah. But I meant for me. I've been gone for years. Gone. And now I'm back, and I barely see my parents. We used to be so close."

"You're still close," I say. "But I know what you mean."

Sighing, he turns his attention to Charlie. "This," he gestures toward her, "happens so fast. Life happens fast. I don't want to focus on the wrong stuff. I don't want to miss it."

I pull him closer, and he submits, resting his head in my lap. For a moment we abide that way, in the gentle quiet, contemplating the words he just said.

xoxo

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