2 Outside the Lines

Edward didn't wake to sunlight. He should have. He was accustomed to it. As his work hours were almost entirely up to him, rising before the sun was wholly unnecessary. But it was still very dim in the room when he woke to the sound of a little voice humming tunelessly.

He forced his eyes open. Alice was sitting up on the bed, playing with a runner that she had snatched from the nightstand. Edward watched sleepily as she draped it over her head and gathered it beneath her chin, leaving her little face poking out beneath the fabric.

"So pity," she sing-songed quietly. She shifted it down to her shoulders to serve as a shawl, leaving her messy curls bare.

Edward smiled to himself. She was pretty cute when she wasn't whining.

Alice must have heard a change in his breathing, because she turned her head to him.

"Teenty," she said, seeing that he was awake. "Pease?"

"Please what?" he asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Teenty. Die-doo? Pease?"

He didn't have any idea what she was saying, but she was tugging at her diaper and that was a fairly clear message.

He groaned. "I've never changed a diaper in my life."

"Teenty," she insisted, a note of petulance creeping into her voice.

"It can't wait until daylight? You're playing along just fine until I wake up, and then suddenly you're in desperate need of someone to wipe your butt?" He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table and checked the time. "Fucking hell, kid. It's not even six yet."

"Siss yet?" she parroted.

Edward figured he was probably lucky that those were the words she'd chosen to repeat. He'd have to be a little more careful with his language. "Fine. Diapers." He looked around. There had been a diaper bag . . . he must have left it in the car. He dropped back on the pillow, irritated with the thought that he was going to have to put on clothes and go outside. He suppressed a curse and rolled out of bed, retrieving his clothes from the chair where he'd left them the night before. He pulled on his jeans, stuck his arms through his shirt without bothering to button it up, and shoved his bare feet into his shoes. That would be sufficient to get him to the car and back, he hoped.

"Come on, kid, let's go get your diaper bag."

"Die-doo?" she asked.

"Sure." He picked her up, trying not to think about what was squishing around inside of the diaper that was now mushed between his arm and her butt, and he carried her up the cobblestone path to the inn. There was a woman whom he assumed was a customer reading a newspaper at one of the tables near the windows to the left. She was clearly out of her fucking mind to be up at this hour, so he ignored her and headed for the front exit and his car. The woman from the previous night came through a door to his right, though, and smiled at him. She looked more put-together this morning, dressed in a yellow maternity dress and carrying a platter of crepes and a pot of coffee.

"Good morning," she said brightly. "Are you guys ready for some breakfast?"

Edward grunted and shook his head. "Diaper. Shower. Maybe breakfast after that."

She laughed as she carried the food to the woman at the table. "Just come on in whenever you're ready and we'll get you all set up."

He made sure he was far enough away that she wouldn't hear before he muttered, "Morning people should come with warning labels." He made his way out to the car and stood in front of it, staring at it for a moment in a haze of grogginess.

"Dammit," he muttered.

"Dammit?" Alice echoed.

Right. Language.

He turned on his heel and headed back inside.

"Is everything okay?" the morning person asked as he trudged back through the dining room.

"Keys."

He thought she laughed again, but he was already pushing through the back door. Back in his cabin, he searched his sport coat pocket for his keys. He knocked a stray charcoal pencil on the floor, but he was too tired to go chasing after it, so he just left it where it had rolled under the desk.

"Die-doo?" Alice asked hopefully.

"Whatever," he muttered. He managed to locate his keys and pulled them out of the pocket.

She started to fuss and pull at her diaper again. "Teenty. Own yite it." She shook her head irritably.

"I'm working on it." He made his way through the inn to his car once more. This time he was successful in retrieving the diaper bag from the car, and as he headed back to his room, the morning person held a mug of coffee in his path.

He stopped, staring at the mug, and then at her.

"I love you," he said earnestly.

She laughed as she pressed the mug into his free hand and turned away. "Cream and sugar are on the sideboard."

He didn't need those, but he very much appreciated the coffee. He took a perfect, scalding sip and headed back out the back door.

"Hassum?" Alice asked, reaching for the coffee cup.

"Uh-uh." He held it away from her. "That's mine."

Her little lip poked out and she looked at him as though he were being needlessly cruel.

"It's hot," he said, though he wasn't sure she understood him. "You'll get burned if you drink that."

"Sum appadoose?"

"I don't know what that means. Look, let's just get your diaper changed, okay?"

That seemed to distract her. "Teenty," she agreed, tugging at her diaper.

Back in the room. He set her on the bed and then peered into the diaper bag. There was a lot more in there than diapers. He found wet wipes, which he figured would probably come in handy, as well as some cereal in a plastic container, an empty cup with a lid, a folded pad, a bottle of sunscreen, two small, half-used bottles of hand sanitizer, a tube of something called Butt Paste, various items of baby clothing, and plastic detritus littering the bottom of the bag.

"Jesus," he muttered. "Babies are high maintenance."

"No," Alice protested, wrapping the table runner over her head again. "A-notta beebee. Diss yun yaidy."

"Sure. Um." He pulled out a diaper and looked at it doubtfully. "Uh. You know what? I bet there are instructional videos." He located his phone and started making his way to YouTube, but Alice reached for his phone, looking eager.

"Dy-soze?"

"No." He dodged her grab.

"Pease?"

She tried again and he held the phone away. "Stop. I'm trying to find a video."

"Bee-oh?"

He found a promising video and started to play it, setting the phone down on the bed out of Alice's reach.

"Beebee?" she asked, leaning toward his phone.

"Lay down." He didn't wait for her to comply, but eased her back down on the bed so she was positioned like the baby in the video. That part went smoothly, but from there it was all downhill. The video was deceitful about the amount of shit that could be contained in a diaper. Edward muttered curses as he used wipe after wipe to clean away the smelly mess while Alice chattered unintelligibly. And then, once she was clean, the diaper that he fastened around her sagged so badly that he doubted it would remain in place for long. He tried again. He worried that he would hurt her if he fastened it too tightly, but Alice didn't seem concerned. The result was better that time, and the kid seemed satisfied.

"Hassum buffuss?" she asked.

He retrieved the coffee that he had neglected during the ordeal and sipped at it, mourning the loss of the sharp, burning heat. It was still warm, but not lovely and hot the way it had been when he'd first sipped it.

"Hassum?" Alice asked, reaching for it.

He looked at the coffee and then at her. What could it hurt, really? "You won't like it," he warned.

"Yuh-huh." She nodded earnestly.

"Okay." He tried to give it to her, but her hands clearly weren't capable of holding a full mug steady, so he kept a hand on it. He helped her move it to her mouth so she could take a drink.

Alice swallowed a gulp and her little face screwed up in distaste. She gasped, looking astonished and distressed.

Edward snickered and reclaimed the cup from her. "I told you. Coffee is for grown-ups."

"Iss yuh-tee."

"Sure."

"Hassum buffuss?"

"I don't know what that means." He swallowed a gulp of his coffee. He needed a shower, but he wasn't sure about leaving her unsupervised. Weren't there little kid cages with high sides or something? He needed one of those. Surely he didn't have to take her into the shower, did he? How did parents ever get clean with these needy little humans around all the time?

But then, the Swan woman hadn't been watching her when Edward had gone to her house. It must be okay to leave kids on their own for a little while every now and then. He looked at her sitting on the bed and then worried that she would fall off. "Here." He set his coffee aside and lifted her down from the bed.

"Oh doh-ween?" she asked, toddling behind him as he headed toward the bathroom. Her inflection made him pretty certain she was asking where he was going.

"I'm going to take a shower. You stay here."

"Tummishoo," she said, very much not staying.

"No, you stay here." He scooted her back out the bathroom door and closed it.

There was a silent moment and then she let out a loud, high-pitched wail that had him yanking the door open again.

"Come on, kid," he protested, scooping her up. She stopped crying and clung to him. "I just want ten minutes."

"Tummishoo," she said again.

"Can't you stay out here and play?"

She perked up. "Hassum toys?"

"Uh." He hadn't thought about toys. He moved back to the bed and fished through the diaper bag, coming up with a ring of plastic, pastel-colored keys from one of the pockets. "There's a toy. Here."

Alice gave the keys a dubious look.

Edward rattled them. "Don't they look fun?"

"Pendy puss?"

He sighed. "No. No pendy puss."

Her lip quivered, but before she could get too committed to crying, she spotted his phone. "Dy-soze" she asked, pointing to it.

"You want to watch a video?" he asked, seizing on the idea.

"A-fia?"

"I don't know what that means." He searched YouTube for kids videos and found something with unnaturally colored dogs that looked like it might keep her attention. "Here. How's this?"

"Poppo!" Alice accepted the phone and let him put her down on the floor, her attention riveted on the screen. He didn't take it for granted. He darted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He probably should have tried harder to hurry. He didn't want to leave Alice alone for too long. But hot water streaming over a tired body is a heady thing, and he couldn't convince himself to rush too quickly. He gave himself a delicious quarter of an hour before he shut off the water and hurriedly dried himself. He could still hear his phone playing in the other room, and Alice wasn't making any noise. That seemed like a good thing. He tugged on his clothes, then opened the door to take a quick peek at the kid.

His phone was lying abandoned on the floor by the bed, and at first he didn't see Alice. His eyes swept the room and landed on the desk and the little pair of feet poking out from under it. When he looked underneath, he saw that she had found his charcoal pencil and had proceeded to scribble all over the wall behind the desk, as well as the inside panels of the desk itself. But the charcoal didn't stop there. Her hands, face, and shirt were covered with black smudges which she transferred to the hardwood floor every time she moved.

"Alice!"

She started hard at the sound of her name.

"What are you doing?"

There was a moment's silence in which her face froze in shock, crumpled, and then her mouth opened in an unholy wail. She dropped the charcoal pencil onto the floor and howled in distress, showing blackened teeth and tongue.

"Jesus Christ, how did you get it in your mouth?" he muttered. He strode over to her and tugged her out from under the desk and into his arms. "I'm sorry. That was too rough. Come on, we'll get you cleaned up."

"Daaaaaddyyyyyyyy! Wan Daddyyyyyyyy!"

Edward sighed. "Me too, kid."

She howled all the way to the bathroom, where Edward set her on the sink and did his best to clean the charcoal from her mouth. She didn't like it at all, and she jerked her head away every time he swiped at her mouth with his fingers. It crossed Edward's mind that he could walk out of this affair with tooth marks on his hand, but she didn't go for blood. She just tried to wriggle away while he tried just as hard to watch his language. He really, really hoped Koh-I-Noor charcoal pencils weren't toxic.

When her mouth was relatively clean, he moved to her hands and face and then shirt, wiping with a wet wash cloth to clean away the smudges. This, somehow, made her cry even harder. She threw her head back and wailed, her dusky skin turning an angry red.

"Come on, kid," he muttered. "You'd think I was trying to kill you."

"WAN DAAAAAADDYYYYYY!"

When he had gotten her as clean as he could, he scooped her up and held her against his chest, wetting the front of his shirt because hers was soaked through. She resisted for a minute but then gave in to his soothing murmurs and slumped on his shoulder.

"You're not supposed to eat that stuff, kid," he said, rubbing her back. But then he worried about why a pencil had made its way into her mouth. Had he taken too long to get around to feeding her? How often were kids supposed to eat? "Are you just really hungry?"

"Sum buffuss?" she asked tearfully.

"Is that what it is? You want breakfast?"

"Uh-huh." She hiccoughed and rubbed one soggy eye with her fist.

"Okay. We'll get you fed. Something that tastes better than ash, okay?"

"Tay." She hiccoughed again.

He set her down on the bed, but she clung to him and wouldn't let him leave her.

"I just need my shoes," he said, prying her fingers from his shirt. "Two seconds." He darted away and snatched them up before sitting back down beside her again. She latched onto his arm and he had to be careful not to elbow her as he shoved his bare feet into his shoes.

"All right, let's go." He swung her up into his arms and snagged his mug on the way out the door. The coffee in it was cold and sad, no longer the precious gift that he'd been given earlier. He needed decent coffee, dammit, and it annoyed him that the kid had kept him from enjoying it. It just wasn't right to deny a man his morning fix. He tossed the remains on the grass with some regret as he headed toward the inn.

The Morning Person was carrying a stack of dishes toward the kitchen when they walked inside.

"Grab a seat anywhere," she said, waving to the tables where a few more people had trickled down for breakfast. "I'll be right back."

Alice was looking a little more cheerful when he set her down, though her eyes were still red and wet.

"Hassum pampace?" she asked.

"You know what would help? A Baby Talk/English dictionary."

"A-noey?"

The Morning Person reappeared with a pot of coffee in one hand and a plate of scones in the other. She stopped to fill another person's cup, then headed toward Edward and Alice. Edward grinned at her as she refilled his mug without being asked.

"Lemon blackberry scones?" she asked, placing them on the table.

"Bo-ees?" Alice asked, her head popping up in interest.

"That sounds amazing," Edward said. He accepted a proffered plate and set it in front of Alice, placing a scone on it for her.

"Bo-ees?" she asked curiously.

"Have some of that," he told her.

She just looked at the scone. Edward couldn't understand why she was hungry enough to eat art supplies but not the warm scones that honestly smelled fucking amazing. Was he supposed to . . . feed her? Or cut it up for her?

"Here." He broke off a little piece and held it to her mouth.

She took it from him and inspected it. "Bo-ees?"

"Sure. Eat that."

She obediently stuck the piece of scone into her mouth.

Edward shook his head. Weird kid. But little pieces seemed to do the trick, so he started breaking up the scone for her.

"This morning we have a rosemary mushroom quiche or strawberry crepes with Nutella or cream cheese," Emily told Edward, pulling a pad and pen from her apron pocket.

"Obo-ees?" Alice said, perking up again.

"Is that berries, sweetie?" she asked kindly.

"Yes!" she clapped her hands in entirely unwarranted excitement.

She looked to Edward. "Is a crepe okay for her?"

"Yeah. Go with the cream cheese and we'll see how she does with it."

She nodded. "And for you?"

"That quiche sounds pretty great."

She gave him a warm smile as she headed back to the kitchen.

"Ose bo-ees?" Alice asked again, inspecting the scone with curiosity.

"Are you looking for berries in there?" He found a chunk of blackberry and picked it out of the scone. "There's one."

Alice grinned in delight and popped it into her mouth with a happy growl.

Edward helped himself to one of the very tempting scones and nearly growled himself. A little clotted cream would have made it perfect, but it was still pretty excellent on its own.

"Iss yummy?" Alice asked him.

"Delicious." He sipped his coffee and Alice reached for it.

"Hassum?"

He shot her a side-eyed glance. "You're not a quick learner, are you?"

"Pease?"

"Here. Smell it." He wasn't sure she would understand, but she leaned in when he held the cup in front of her and sniffed. Her baby face screwed up and she shook her head. "Own yite it."

"Told you." He pulled it back and sipped it. "Coffee isn't for babies."

"No!" She grabbed his sleeve, shaking her head with some urgency. "A-notta beebee. Diss yun yaidy."

He gestured to her scone. "Eat your breakfast."

She looked at it and then back at him. "Obo-ees?"

"You're still on that?" He inspected some of the fragments of scone until he found another blackberry chunk. "Here."

"Bo-ee!" she said happily before using the flat of her hand to push it into her mouth.

Edward glanced around, hoping to see a newspaper somewhere, and spotted four neatly-stacked copies of USA Today on a table near the front desk. He stood and headed for it, and Alice scrambled out of her chair after him.

"Stay there," he told her. "I'll be right back."

She toddled along behind him, heedless of his instructions. "Oh doh-ween?"

"I'm just getting a newspaper."

"Oospoopoo?"

He smirked, snatching up the paper. "Close enough." He led Alice back to the table and helped her up into her chair again. She'd hardly eaten any of her scone and he was starting to doubt that her culinary explorations with the pencil were really about devastating hunger. Well, that was good. At least he hadn't brought the kid to the brink of starvation. Probably.

"Hassum?" Alice asked, holding her hands out for the newspaper.

"You read the USA Today?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cool." He found a page in the Entertainment section with lots of pictures and extracted it for her. He folded it over to make it more accessible and set it on the far side of her scone. "There you go."

"Deenchoo!" she replied in obvious delight as she scanned the page.

Edward arranged his own pages and started skimming through the articles. There was an irresistible story about a senator whose inattention had caused him some embarrassment at a fundraiser for Muscular Dystrophy. It was a cause close to his heart, he'd said in his speech, and had then told a very moving story about an aunt of his who had died from Multiple Sclerosis, not Muscular Dystrophy. Edward could use that. Maybe extend the error to foreign policy? He opened a notepad on his phone and tapped out a cartoon idea for the senator confusing one country with another. Belgium and Bulgaria? Norway and North Korea? He'd think about it. But not for too long, because this joke would only be funny for a very short time. If he wanted to get a laugh, he'd have to get the cartoon out there in the next day or two.

"A-weedeen?" Alice asked him.

"What am I reading?" he guessed.

"Uh-huh."

"A story about a foolish faux pas." He nodded toward her paper. "What are you reading?"

"Um. Um." Alice looked over her paper and poked a finger at one of the pictures. "Diss yaidy."

"Yeah? What's she up to?"

"Um. Payf sum toys."

"Toys, huh? What do you think? Is that good news or bad news?"

"Doonooz," she said decisively.

"Right on."

The Morning Person appeared then, somehow balancing two plates on one arm while carrying a pitcher of orange juice and a mug in her second hand. She expertly passed out their food and Alice pounced joyfully on hers with an excited cry of "Obo-eese!" She snatched up a strawberry slice and mushed it into her mouth.

Edward accepted two bundles of silverware rolled in paper napkins and unwrapped Alice's for her. He wasn't at all sure she would use them, but she immediately snatched up the spoon. She held it a little bit awkwardly, but she managed to get another strawberry and some whipped cream onto it, so he left her to it.

"She's so cute," the morning person said with a fond smile.

Edward had to agree. Ridiculous as the kid was, those big brown eyes and round baby cheeks were kind of irresistible.

"I don't suppose you know who her mother is?" Edward asked.

She shook her head. "I never met her. I wasn't even completely sure she was Ted's. I thought . . ." she shrugged, looking embarrassed, but Edward waited expectantly. "Well, when I saw him suddenly carrying around a baby who looks so much like him . . . I thought she might be yours."

He started. "Mine?"

She shrugged, looking self-conscious. "He always talked about his son but we never met you. I wondered if maybe you'd had a kid and he was . . . helping."

Edward let out a hard laugh. "That's reasonable, I guess."

She looked a little timid when she asked, "You didn't know about her? At all?"

So. The Swan woman must have shared a detail or two. Small towns being famous for gossip and all, he probably shouldn't have been surprised. He shook his head and looked down at the kid, feeling embarrassed and irritated and sort of betrayed. Again. He couldn't think of any reason that he should have been kept out of the loop on anything of significance in his dad's life. But here was this tiny human who had appeared as if from nowhere, and Edward just wanted to know why. Why hadn't he been told and why did she even exist? The whole situation was so strange.

"Sum obo-eese?" Alice said, offering him her spoon.

"Nah, I'm good." Edward freed his fork from the napkin and speared a chunk of his quiche. "I have my own."

She inspected his quiche with interest. "A-dat?"

"That's quiche," he said, hoping he was answering the right question.

"Hassum?"

"You want some of this?"

"Uh-huh."

He shrugged and cut off a chunk of quiche, moving it to her plate.

"Deenchoo!"

The Morning Person chuckled and rubbed her protruding stomach. "If this one's half as sweet as Alice, I think I'll call that a success."

"Is this your first?" Edward asked.

She nodded.

"Know anything about parenting yet?"

"Just what I've read in the books." She poured a little bit of orange juice into the mug she'd brought and set it in front of Alice.

"Doose?" Alice asked.

"Do you like orange juice?"

"Yes!"

"Can I ask you a question?" Edward asked the Morning Person.

"Sure."

"Should I be feeding her more often than usual? Like, more often than I eat?"

She chuckled. "No, probably not. By this age she should be eating at regular mealtimes, though if she tells you she's hungry, a little snack probably wouldn't hurt."

"Good." He nodded to himself. He hadn't starved Alice. "I think I'll probably be able to keep her alive until I can track down her mom."

"Good luck." She turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Edward glanced at Alice, who was making headway on her strawberries but hadn't touched her crepe. He looked down at her plate. Considering her awkwardness with the spoon, maybe that made sense. "Here, let me help you with that." He used the side of his fork to cut a bunch of goopy bite-sized pieces so she would have an easier time of it.

"Oummmmm," she growled, shoveling another strawberry into her mouth.

He smiled to himself and turned back to his paper. Halfway through an article about a government server getting hacked, he remembered that he'd never emailed his latest completed pieces to his agent. He tapped at his phone, collecting the completed files and shooting them off while Alice watched him.

"A-dooeen?"

"Just sending an email."

"Eemayo?"

He set his phone down and returned to his newspaper, but it almost immediately began to ring. And, okay, it was totally rude to take a phone call at the table. But there were only two other people in the room, one of whom was getting up to leave, and the other was already on his phone. Plus, it would be such a production to clean up Alice's hands and take her away from the table . . .

He accepted the video call and held his phone up. "Hey, Tanya."

"A-dat?" Alice asked.

"Edward," Tanya said, all cheshire-cat smile. "Did you get my email?"

"Yep."

"And?"

"I deleted it."

Alice grabbed Edward's arm with her sticky strawberry fingers. She pulled herself to her feet and poked her face in front of the phone. "Hi!"

"Hey!" Edward couldn't hold back a grin. "Knock it off, kid."

"Well, hello there!" Tanya replied. "What's your name?"

Alice pointed to herself. "Diss Moey Awiss Masen!"

"Alice is hanging out with me today," Edward said, maneuvering the phone away from her so he could see the screen again. "So let's just skip this whole conversation, seeing as how I'm obviously busy."

"A-see it," Alice said, reaching for the phone. Edward held her back with one arm and raised the phone out of her reach.

"We're having this conversation," Tanya said firmly.

"The answer is no. Good talk."

She huffed in frustration. "Did you even read my email?"

"Yes. I read, 'Edward, I want to talk to you about a graphic novel,' and then I deleted it."

"Pease?" Alice said, straining for the phone. "Pease? Habbit?"

"Go back and read the whole thing."

"I think you're confused," Edward said. "I didn't archive the email, I deleted it. It has disappeared into the ether."

Alice started emitting a series of discontented, demanding grunts. "Habbit," she insisted.

"You know what? Good idea." He handed Alice the phone and turned back to his quiche.

"Hi!" Alice said, her good humor back now that she had gotten what she wanted.

Tanya sighed. "Hello, honey. Can you tell Edward that he's being a petty little douchebag?"

"Oosbad?"

"Seriously?" Edward said around a mouthful of egg and mushroom. "You're going to teach her that kind of language?"

"Alice, can you say 'giant dick'?"

"Hassum obo-ees," Alice said in a conversational tone. "Iss yummy."

"That's great. Can I talk to Edward?"

"Payf sum toys?"

Edward smirked to himself. Having the kid around was coming in handy.

"You know what I have?" Tanya said. "I have a check from the Village Voice that I'm going to put in the shredder. Isn't that fun? You want to watch me shred Edward's money?"

"Hassum munny?" Alice perked up.

"Not for long . . ."

"Give," Edward said, holding his hand out for the phone. Alice surrendered it, but she crawled onto his lap to remain a part of the conversation. Edward ignored the sticky little fingerprints on the phone and the sticky little hands on his shirt. "Tanya, for hell's sake, do you have to harass me like this? Can't I just have boundaries? I don't want to do a graphic novel."

"You want to do this one."

"I really don't. I'm a political cartoonist. I don't do epic tales."

"You could."

"Books are hard and I'm very lazy."

"True, but I'm willing to overlook your flaws and make sure you don't pass up an opportunity that you'll find very rewarding."

"Seen a sonn?" Alice said.

"Can't we just pretend I tried and failed?"

"Yes, but only after you hear me out."

"Bissy bissy pie-doo," Alice sang.

"Fine." He glanced at the clock over the kitchen door. "You have one minute to hook me."

"I only need two seconds." Tanya smiled smugly.

"Unnup unnuh unnuh," Alice sang, clearly having trouble with the lyrics.

Tanya leaned back in her chair. "Caius Christopher."

Edward froze.

"Down inna wenn an nuh unnuh unnuh."

"Caius Christopher," Edward repeated. The late senator from California was probably the dirtiest politician in US history. He would be a fascinating subject . . .

He shrugged. "It's been done. There are books, movies, there may even be a graphic novel already."

"Up inna sun uh wide-a wide-a wain"

"There's not. Also—and you would know this already if you had read my email—there's new information."

Edward pressed his lips together. He was dubious about anything new coming out about Caius Christopher. There were a lot of accusations flying around, many of which were probably true, but none of them was usable without evidence.

"Unnuh bissy bissy pie-doo unnuh unnuh unnuh." Alice looked up at Edward expectantly.

"Nice job, kid," Edward said, hoping it was praise that she was waiting for. "Excellent musicality."

"Yep."

Tanya grinned. "That's one hell of a cute kid."

She wasn't wrong. He gave Alice a little squeeze. "How credible is your source?"

"Credible. With documents."

"Legally obtained?"

"Completely."

She sounded awfully sure, but Edward wasn't convinced. He'd been smacked with a libel suit once, and while he'd won the case, it had made him extra wary about backing up what he wrote.

"Hassum obo-ees?" Alice asked.

Edward started to pull her plate over, but realized that she had picked off all the strawberries and left the crepe. "Don't you want the rest of it?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Sum obo-ees."

The Morning Person was topping off a coffee mug for the other guest, and he waved her over when she finished. She automatically started filling his mug as well, because she was an angel sent straight from heaven.

"Could I trouble you for some more strawberries?"

"No problem." She headed toward the kitchen.

"Where are you?" Tanya asked.

"Forks."

"Visiting your dad?"

A sharp pain stabbed at his stomach and he tried to stifle the wince. It was too damn early to get into the personal stuff, so he just nodded. "Yeah. Tell me about the source."

"Well." She settled back in her chair, looking like the cat that got the cream. "The Christophers, you know, they had a lot of money. But Caius's brother Marcus divorced his wife, and Mom and the kids got cut out. They hardly ever saw Marcus, and he paid almost no child support. And, of course, when Caius died, there wasn't any money for the cast-offs. But after the family helped themselves to Caius's estate, they invited Marcus's kids to come and take whatever furniture or knick-knacks they might want. Marcus's daughter Rose picked out a cedar chest full of blankets, and the family signed off on her taking it." She gave Edward a significant look.

"Actually signed off?" he asked. "As in, real pen and real paper?"

"Yep. 'The chest and the contents thereof.'"

"God bless anal-retentive lawyers," Edward muttered. "So what's hiding in the bottom of the chest?"

"Hassum obo-ees?" Alice asked, pushing herself into Edward's line of sight.

"They're coming," he promised. He settled her down on his lap again and turned his attention back to Tanya.

"Newspaper clippings, letters, ledgers, diaries . . ."

"Holy shit." He shook his head. "Caius's? Tell me they're his."

She smirked. "So. Interested?"

"Ugh. No. Graphic novels are a lot of work and I'm very lazy. Why are you insisting on pushing this at me?"

"It's not me, it's Rose," Tanya said with a shrug. "She likes your stuff—your Hall of Dreadful Presidents, in particular. She thinks the shadowy style is right for a book about shady backroom deals."

Edward felt himself nodding in response. He'd been picturing the same thing.

"But she wants to meet you first, and Edward . . . you have to be nice."

He shot her a wounded look. "When am I ever not nice?"

"When you clash about artistic differences. This is her project and she really doesn't want someone getting all bossy about how it should go. I need you to be a good boy and do as you're told."

"Hey, I'm a delight to work with."

"As evidenced by your last collaboration."

"I really liked Neil," Edward protested. "He was brilliant and creative and funny. We got along great. It's just that he wanted me to shit gold on command and I wanted him to die in a fire."

The morning person reappeared with a bowl of strawberries and placed them on the table. Edward nodded his thanks and shifted Alice back into her chair, drawing the bowl toward her.

"So you think you can handle working with Rose if the pacing is right?"

"Yeah. I mean, this stuff takes time."

"Fine. I'll let you guys negotiate a timeline."

"Us? What do I pay you for? I don't want to negotiate anything."

"Quit being a baby."

"No." Alice grabbed his arm and pulled the phone toward her. "No, a-notta beebee. Diss yun yaidy."

"You tell her, kid," Edward said. "No babies here."

"No beebees hee-oh."

Tanya chuckled. "I'll send you a contract and Rose's phone number. She's in Seattle, but she said she's willing to go to Olympia if you need her to."

"She wants to meet in person? She understands what Zoom is, right?"

Tanya shrugged. "It's what she asked for. What does it matter, if she's willing to come to you?"

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He was going to have to get into the personal shit. "It looks like I'm going to be in Forks for a while. A couple of weeks, at least." He wasn't sure how long it was going to take to settle his dad's estate, but he figured that two or three weeks was a pretty safe bet. "If she wants to meet, we'll have to do it here."

"Is everything okay?" Tanya asked, like he'd known she would.

So he told her about his father's death and the surreal experience of learning that he had a sister.

"I'm a little relieved," she said after she had offered her condolences. "I saw you holding that kid who looks just like you and I was worried that you'd gotten a little surprise from an ex-girlfriend."

That she was the second person to make that assumption within the last hour made Edward uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that a nauseous little pit started to form in his stomach.

He was always careful. He'd had some brief relationships, the occasional one-night stand, and one or two girlfriends who had been serious enough to score a guest code to his place. But he'd never had any intention of having kids, so preventative measures were part of his routine. He'd never been all that concerned about condom failures or other such issues, but . . . what if? What if there had been a pregnancy he hadn't known about? What if the woman in question had gone to his father for help instead of him? Would Edward Sr. have taken on the responsibility of raising the kid in order to shield his son from the repercussions? Edward suspected that he would have. The man had been accused of being overprotective more than once. Edward didn't like to think that his father wouldn't at least have given him a choice in the matter, but he could see things playing out that way.

Why else would he have kept Alice's existence a secret?

"Edward?" Tanya said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "Everything's great."

"This is a rough time for you," she said sympathetically. "I'll ask Rose if she can hold off for a while."

"No." He shook his head. Work was stable ground and he wanted to get back on it. "Send me her contact details. I'll get in touch with her."

"Are you sure?"

He shrugged and forced a wry smile. "You're right. I'm not going to be able to pass on this one."

"You're the boss. I'll email it over today."

"Thanks. Oh, hey, Tanya? Why is the Village Voice sending paper checks?"

Her head shake spoke of simmering frustration. "There's a new guy in Accounts Payable. I'm fixing it."

He let out a rueful laugh. "Good luck."

It occurred to him as he disconnected that Alice hadn't interrupted him in a couple of minutes. He turned to find her sitting in the chair beside him, shirtless, poking at her belly button.

"What happened to your shirt?" he asked her.

She looked at him like the answer should be obvious. "A-mess."

"It's a mess?"

"Uh-huh." She turned back to her belly button.

"That's what happens when you wipe charcoal all over it."

"Yep."

He scanned the floor around her chair until he located her shirt and reached down to pick it up. "Are you finished with breakfast?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

She had eaten a few more strawberries out of the bowl, but the crepe still sat untouched. Well. That was probably okay. There were worse breakfasts than strawberries and a little whipped cream.

"Shall we go back to the room and wash up?"

She abandoned her navel and raised her arms to allow him to pick her up. Edward did, propping her on his hip while he pulled some cash out of his wallet and dropped it on the table as a tip.

"Hassum munny?" Alice asked, sticking out a stained-pink hand.

Edward snorted. "What are you going to do with money?"

"Immye baint. Pease?"

"Let's wash your hands first," he said, heading for the door. Maybe she'd forget by then. Babies had short memories, right?

Alice inspected her hands. "Mess," she declared.

"Darn right, they're a mess. And now my clothes are, too."

"A-chwoze?"

"Yeah. You got strawberry juice all over them."

"Obo-ees?" she asked, perking up. "Hassum?"

Edward stopped. He had made it maybe three steps outside and he looked back at the inn. "You want more berries?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded, her eyes wide and earnest.

"You just said you were done with breakfast."

"Hassum?"

Edward rolled his eyes and headed back inside.

Ten minutes later, Alice had eaten one strawberry slice. She had poked at them with her spoon, smeared them with cream cheese from her crepe, and sang "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" twice more, but no more food seemed to be going into her mouth. Edward found himself wishing he had his tablet so that the time he spent watching Alice dawdle over breakfast wouldn't be entirely wasted.

"Come on, kid," he muttered. "I have a lot to do today."

"Iss munnay?" she asked him.

"No. You can't have any money until you finish your breakfast and wash your hands."

"Oh motace?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what that means."

"A-wimmeen?"

He sighed.

"Hassum?" Alice asked, holding out a half-mushed strawberry in her hand.

"You eat it."

She eyed the strawberry and then dropped it on the table.

"Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded earnestly.

"All right. Let's go clean up."

"Mess," she agreed as he picked her up.

This time they made it back to the room and Edward managed to wash Alice's hands. This go-round with the sink was easier. She seemed to really like soap suds, and she washed her hands, arms, face, and belly button with enthusiasm. Edward helped make sure she didn't miss any spots and then found a purple cotton jumper in the diaper bag and started to put it on her.

"No." She shook her head. "Pity jwess."

"It's this or the dirty shirt."

"A-see it?" She held out her hands for the diaper bag, so Edward plopped it down on the counter next to her. She dug around in it for a minute, inspected the dirty shirt that he had tossed in there, and then shook her head. "Pity jwess."

"I don't know what you want me to do," Edward said.

"Yes!" she whined, snatching the jumper out of his hands and throwing it on the floor. "Pity jwess!"

He tried to put the jumper on her again, but she squirmed away.

"Look, you can wear this or you can go naked," he said.

"No! Wanna pity jwess!"

"Naked it is." Edward scooped her up and carried her, wailing now, into the bedroom. He plopped her down on the bed and ignored her loud protests while he tidied up the room and did his best to scrub the charcoal from the walls, desk, and floor. It wasn't so bad, really. At least she hadn't gotten her hands on his acrylic pens.

"Pease!" Alice cried, tears beading on her eyelashes. She reached for him, but the bed was too high for her to climb off of.

"You want the purple outfit or not?"

"Pity jwess," she whimpered.

"This is all I've got."

"Wan Daddy," she muttered.

Which was turning out to be a surprisingly quick way to take the wind out of Edward's sails. "Yeah," he said, crawling out from under the desk and dropping down onto the bed next to her. "Me too."

"A-home?"

"You want to go home?"

She sniffled. "Uh-huh."

"Okay. You want to wear this purple thing?"

"Uh-uh." She shook her head vehemently.

"What about the dirty shirt? You want to wear that?"

"Mess."

He nodded. "Yeah. Well. I guess you can get dressed after we get you home."

"Tay."

Edward gathered up his things and glanced around the room. He didn't know what the going rate of a room like this was, but he guessed it was a couple hundred a night. After lending some cash to Jimmy and leaving a tip for breakfast, he only had a little over a hundred left in his wallet. He pulled it all out and dropped it on the nightstand, then gathered up the kid and their things and headed out to the car.