Five
EPOV
He's asleep. Thankfully.
It's pretty much all he does. All he's done.
Eat, shit, sleep, repeat.
I've had two shirts take on spit up. I've ran my hand through my hair so many times I think I've spurred forward early balding. I also feel like I have jet lag from the lack of sleep.
But all of it is hidden behind a smile as my parents waltz through the door.
They'd been happy to come for dinner. Not at all concerned. Not at all worried I might spring something as huge as a grandchild on them.
"Hey," I hug my mother tightly.
The need to feel her embrace is stronger than ever. Even if she didn't know it.
I worried for a heartbeat that my son might never know what it's like to run to a mother. When you're scared, sad or lonely. He might never know how it's the most magical thing in the world.
It makes me hate Tanya more.
That she wasn't up to scratch. Why she refused to be what he needed. Why she couldn't show up and ask for assistance at any point.
"You look tired, my darling," Esme says, "I hope you're not overworked at that hospital."
"I'm fine," I smile at her, "Bella's made us her sloppy joe burgers."
"Delicious," my father takes my mother's coat, placing them by the door, "I didn't get to my lunch so I'm starved."
Despite their money and lunch with royalty they were down to earth. They weren't tone deaf or up in the clouds of snobbery. My father would be just as keen to chug a pint at the pub as he would to attend the polo.
"How's Margot?" I ask.
Their housekeeper.
"Sends her best," my mother nods, "where's that gorgeous roommate of yours?"
"The kitchen," I motion toward the room where she's cooking.
"I'll go help her," Esme claps.
"Actually. First can you come into the lounge room? I need to just have a word," I say.
I could wait till after dinner. But I run the risk of Wilbur waking up and rudely surprising them.
They need to know.
The Band-Aid had to rip.
They trade a confused and concerned look. Years of marriage behind their own developed silent language. One that my siblings and I could never translate.
"Sure," my father walks into the lounge room, taking a seat right where I was when I learned I'd become one too.
My mother sits beside him, hand on his knee. They loved to touch. To some capacity they always had a hand on one another.
Kind of how Bella sometimes does with me. A hand on my arm, back, knee. Clueless to how it makes me feel.
"Is something wrong?" My mother asks.
Bella had suggested I broach the subject alone first, and call her in if I needed backup. She wanted to respect their right to react how they wanted. To not put on some show because she was in the room.
Did I mention I love her?
"Where do I even begin?" I sit across from them in Bella's armchair.
She'd found it on the side of the road up the street and demanded I come help her grab it. Some throw away crap that turned into a treasure. She'd managed to actually clean it up pretty well.
"Take your time," my mother says encouragingly, "know that we love you."
"You didn't murder anyone though, did you?" My father interjects.
"No," I shake my head, smirking.
"Good because I couldn't do jail visits," Carlisle shakes his head.
"Carlisle," Esme smacks his knee.
"I would for you, Edward," he corrects, "I just… I would prefer not to."
"It's not in your future," I assure him.
"Then what is it?" My mothers concern hits me hard.
She loves me as her own. She'd love Wilbur the same.
"There is really no easy way to say this so I'm going to just lay it on thick. You remember Tanya?" I start.
"Oh you didn't get back together did you?" Carlisle can't hold his tongue.
"No," I shake my head, "definitely not. She kept something rather massive from me though. She had been pregnant when we split."
Their faces are in sync. Shock. They weren't expecting that. Who's going to tell them it gets worse? Oh yeah. Me.
"I only found out because she left the baby on my doorstep the other night while I wasn't home," I explain, "the police are looking for her."
"Oh my god," my mother's hands cover her mouth.
My father is teetering between processing and anger.
"You weren't careful?" He asks.
"Apparently not enough," I shake my head, "for now the baby is going to stay with us. Well actually forever. I was actually going to ask about contacting the lawyers. So we can push her to relinquish all parental rights over to me."
"I'll put in a call," Carlisle nods, "I'll have Bruce call you tomorrow first thing."
"Thanks. I'm sorry you have had to find out this way," I glance down at my lap, "you deserved the lead up as much as I did."
"We're grandparents," Esme glances at her husband, "we have a grandchild."
"Grandson," I nod, "would you like to meet him?"
"Please," Esme nods enthusiastically.
"I'll go get him," I stand.
"Got him," Bella walks in cradling my son, "he was fussing on the monitor."
"Oh my," Esme makes a beeline for them, "oh. He is beautiful."
"Here. You hold him! The dinner won't plate itself," she transfers Wilbur into her arms.
"Do you need a hand?" I ask.
"No," she shakes her head, "you help him get acquainted with his grandparents!"
She winks at me before returning to the kitchen. I want to chase her, hold her down…
"Edward?" My mother breaks my train of pleasant thought.
"Pardon," I look at her.
"His name?" She repeats patiently.
"Oh. His name is Wilbur Carlisle," I glance at my father, "Bella helped to pick it."
"Oh. That's unusual and old fashioned. But it suits him," she looks down at him, "and you're named after the most handsome man on the planet."
My father moves to his wife's side, hand on her back as he leans in. An affectionate acknowledgment of her compliment.
"Oh he's just like you," Carlisle looks between us, comparing me with the infant.
"His eyes and of course the hair," Esme nods, "do you want to hold him, my dear?"
Carlisle nods and holds his arms out for the transfer. A total natural, he takes Wilbur into his arms, bouncing him and talking to him. He'd really been an amazing father growing up - the kind I'd strive to be just like.
Bella appears at the doorway to the kitchen again, smiling wildly at Carlisle.
"It suits you Grandpa," Bella says.
"That'll take getting used to," Esme laughs, "how are you my dear. Thank you for supporting them both through this!"
My mother closes the distance to wrap her arms around Bella. She'd always had a soft spot for her. She was enamoured with my roommate.
"It's my pleasure," Bella pulls back and offers my mother a warm smile, "are you hungry? Dinner is ready whenever you're finished with your cuddles."
"Starved," Carlisle looks up at me.
"Let's eat," I nod.
"I can put him into his bouncer," Bella motions to Wilbur, "then he can join the party!"
We gather around the dining table, Wilbur perched on top of the table, closest to my mother. She stops constantly to fuss over him, pinching his feet, fixing his blanket.
We eat as a family of five.
"That went well," Bella sits in the armchair by the window in my bedroom, a bottle at my baby's lips.
"I don't think it could have gone better," I agree.
"Your mother is obsessed," she smiles, "it's been so long since she's had a baby to fuss over."
"He's going to be spoilt," I nod, "he already is. What with you around."
"What with your credit card around," she fires back.
God. Can I just walk over and kiss her? Would that be so wrong? The thought of her rejecting me and messing this up is too much of a risk.
"Do you want to pop him to bed? Some daddy time?" She asks.
"You don't need to leave on our account," I want her to stay, "unless you have somewhere to be?"
"Nowhere I'd rather be," she shakes her head.
Moving toward her I crouch down before them, placing a hand on her knee.
"You've made this possible. I don't know where I would be without you," I say sincerely, "thank you for giving up a minute of your life for us."
"Thank you for letting me be part of that minute," she nods, "you're both special. My handsome boys."
Leaning forward I place a soft kiss on my son's head.
"Do you need me to burp him?" I ask.
"I've got it," she shakes her head.
She sits him up in her lap, ensuring he doesn't lack head support. I watch her pat his back, humming a gentle tune as she does it.
Mesmerised, I sit on my bed, as if I'm watching a beauty show.
I've imagined this differently. The left hand patting him had rings that I put there though.
My son lets out a little burp before Bella returns him to laying in her arms.
"He's ready for bed," she looks up at me, "hopefully he gives us a bit of sleep."
"Don't get up during the night. I can handle it," I say, "you deserve rest."
"I want to help you where I can," she shakes her head, "I'm happy to share the load."
I'm unable to respond. Partly because I'm in utter awe, but also because my son picked that exact moment to effectively projectile vomit into her chest.
"Shit," I jump up, moving to take him from her, "are you okay?"
Her sweater is covered. God do I owe her.
"Fine," her face is scrunched up, hands held out before her.
"I'll get it into the washing machine. Leave it at my door," I say, placing Wilbur into his sleeper.
I'm focused on my baby so I don't see her slip it up over her head, her bra now on display for me. Thankfully her hair was up so that hadn't been in the splash zone.
"I'm going to go shower," she says.
I fight to keep my eyes on her.
I'd seen her in this state plenty of times. I had found ways to check her out discreetly. But I wouldn't be able to get away with it right now.
Despite it all, I glance down, I check her out.
She notices.
Without a doubt she catches me.
"If you need me, call out," she backs out into the hallway awkwardly.
Wordlessly I turn back to my son and narrow my eyes at him.
"What are you doing to me, buddy?" I whisper.
But he's already asleep.
Thanks for reading x