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Word Prompt: Stump

Dialogue Flex: "Hold down the fort while I'm gone."

Even with all of the windows wide open, and a fan on, Charlie's room smells strongly of paint. Edward doesn't think it's that big a deal, but I'm weird and worried about it, so we set up an air mattress in what will probably be a guest room. Charlie's not so bummed about the sleeping arrangements when she sees the size of the mattress and all of the blanketing and fluff I fix it up with.

I drop a teddy bear on top and tug Charlie back out of the guest room. "Okay. All done."

She nods, finger in her mouth, pink paint speckling her cheeks like face and arms like freckles.

"You need a bath," I mutter, glancing at Edward, who's making my heart skip for different reasons tonight. "Both of you."

He gives me a crooked, little smile. "Yes, Mom."

Charlie laughs at that, wrapping her arms around my leg. "Yah Mom!"

"There should be towels in our bathroom," I say, poking Edward's pink hair.

"All right, all right, I'm going." He swoops down, kissing Charlie's cheek, and then gives me The Wink on his way out.

I'm giving Charlie a shower, scrubbing her down, explaining the difference between a wash cloth and a pouf, but my mind is stuck on a loop: Charlie calling Edward "Dad". I don't know if it's something she's been thinking about for awhile, and then decided to test today, see if maybe she liked the way it tasted...or if it was a slip. I don't think it was a mistake, though. Charlie's little, but she's intentional. Most kids are at this age.

Honest. Uncalculating...well, about stuff like this, anyway. (Incidents of cookie thievery and mess making notwithstanding.)

"Mom?"

"Yeah, baby."

"I'm clean. But you don't have to comb my hair."

"You know I do."

"No, Mom," she whines, trying to wiggle away as I work conditioner through her wet curls.

"It wouldn't hurt if you held still," I say, knowing it's futile. I can remember my mother brushing my hair and how much I hated it as a little kid.

After that, and a prolonged episode of tooth brushing, a glass of water and several books, Edward and I tuck her in. We've done this as a trio before, but tonight he seems extra attentive, watching us share kisses and whisper good night prayers. He kisses her too, once on each cheek.

"Night, Charlie..." I say, patting her.

"Night Mom. Night Edward."

"We'll finish your room tomorrow, okay?" he says. "Sweet dreams, Chuck."

"Okay...Dad."

Oh man. Swallowing the insta-lump in my throat, I straighten up and turn the light off. Switching the night light on, I back out into the hall, where Edward's leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. He still manages to be terribly appealing, even with pink splashed across his jeans.

Our eyes meet. He reaches out, pulling me closer, and I lean into him, wrapping my arms around him. For a long moment we stay, just like that.

We're downstairs, showered, curled up on an old couch in a new living room. Boxes, boxes everywhere, and a half empty bottle of wine on the floor between our feet.

"She said it earlier, too," Edward says, looking down into his wine glass.

"I know," I say, almost hoarsely. "I...heard her."

He smiles a little.

"What do you think about it?" I ask.

"I don't know. I mean in some ways she's like my little buddy, but then in other ways...she feels like...a lot more than that. Like..."

"Yours?"

Chuffing quietly, he lays his head back. "It's not like I haven't wondered if we'd ever reach that point. Because I have."

"But it caught you off guard."

"Kind of." He squeezes my knee. "This is big for me, Bella. Before you guys I'd never given much thought to being a father - it was always this abstract concept… but now…I don't know. It's…heavy, but instead of making me feel tied down it makes me feel connected. Now I can't imagine not being with Chuck. Hearing her say that... I liked it. A lot."

Closing my eyes, I think back to how I felt earlier. "I liked hearing it."

In the morning, Edward heads out right after breakfast to run errands. "I'll be back by lunch," he says, kissing me.

Charlie wrinkles her nose, only to get a kiss of her own. "Be good, Chuck. Hold down the fort while I'm gone."

"Yah."

The door slams and then it's just us, in the sun drenched quiet of our new kitchen.

"Man, I have so much to do today..."

"I want to go outside, Mom. Outside. Please?"

"Charlie..."

"Mom. Please? For a little while."

I really want to stay in and continue my manic organization, but it is blissfully sunny out and I suppose it would be a shame to waste that. "Okay," I say, a bit reluctantly.

"Okay!" She starts sliding out of her chair, but I stop her with a look.

"Finish your cereal first, though."

She shovels the rest of it with admirable rapidity and scurries off, yelling something about shoes and socks. I rinse the breakfast dishes and stow them in the dishwasher, glancing at the clock. I'll give her one hour outside. And that's it.

Three hours later, I'm sitting on a tree stump near the edge of the yard, watching Charlie dance, spin circles and climb trees. I can't remember the last time I vegged out like this, and while my to-do list looms over my head, the day is too lovely to ignore.

I even brought my book out, and water bottles to quench inevitable thirst. Charlie finally frolics my way, pitching herself down in the grass.

"I want to sleep in my pink room."

I fold the corner of my page and close the book. "Let's finish painting it...and letting it dry. Then you can sleep in there. Promise."

"Okay," she says glumly, as if it's going to take forever.

My phone chimes with an incoming text: Edward's on his way home. Do we want sandwiches?

Yes, I type. Boar's Head turkey and cheese, pls.

"I want to do the flowers, Mom."

"What flowers?"

She's kicked her shoes off, and is now pointing her toes toward the sky. "In the new wedding."

Yikes. We've had a couple of close calls where we thought the jig was up. "Baby, you know it's just the only wedding, right?"

"But...you..." she says, frowning at the sky. "We had a wedding."

"It was a special ceremony. And I feel very married to Edward. But the real wedding is going to be in a few months and you can definitely do the flowers. You're the flower girl."

"Okay. We can have a pink cake. And Mom."

I get up, stretch, and then plop down next to my daughter. "What?"

"I love Edward."

"I know you do, baby." I roll over and kiss her face. "I do, too."

thanks for reading. hope you mamas out there had a sweet mother's day.

xoxo