I've been trying to keep author notes to a minimum, but at this point I really must include a love letter to the phenomenal woman who has been doing the beta work for me, NixDucky. It's not only that she finds time to donate all this unpaid labor while keeping on top of a demanding job, an intense school schedule, and an all-consuming kid—though that is very much appreciated. It's all the stuff on top of that. It's the books, articles, and tidbits she passes me that she knows I'll love. It's the playlists she makes me and the hilarious stories that she shares. It's that she's truly brilliant and has the most generous spirit I've ever come across.
Oh, and also, it's that she lets me blatantly steal the anecdotes she tells me about her own little dude and use them to help develop Alice's character. And you should see my docs after she's gone through them! Alice moments sometimes remind her of things her kid has done, and she fills the margins with the funniest stories. I've never had so much fun reading fic edits.
Duck, you are absolutely the best person in the world, and I adore you. Thank you for making everything better.
And now back to our regularly scheduled programming . . .
9 Reconciliations
Edward was still half-asleep, but he was awake enough to know that there was something not quite right. He wanted to ignore it and drift off again, but it was unpleasant. Uncomfortable. He cracked his eyes open to glance around the dark room. Alice wasn't even awake yet, so it must be really early.
He had once again put her to sleep in her own bed the night before, but a couple of hours later he had awakened to her crying in the hallway. He had opened the door to see her across the hall at her father's bedroom door, crying for him to let her in. It had broken his heart, and he'd let her come and sleep with him again.
He shifted a little in the bed, and that's when he realized what was wrong.
He was wet.
He looked down at the sodden sheets where Alice was cuddled against him and nearly gagged.
Pee. He was sleeping in pee. Alice's diaper had leaked and now the entire right side of his torso was soaked in piss.
"Oh, god," he choked, rolling out of bed and away from the stinking wetness. "That's disgusting. That's disgusting." He stripped out of his clothes as quickly as he could and headed straight for the shower. He gave himself a good scrubbing before heading back into the bedroom to clean up.
Alice wasn't at all pleased to have her sleep disturbed, but there was nothing he could do about it. She couldn't stay there sleeping in urine. He shushed her while he took off her clothes, and though he had planned to put her in the bath, he was afraid she wouldn't tolerate it very well in the middle of the night. Instead, he wiped her down with sanitizing wipes, which she didn't much appreciate, but which was a faster solution than a bath.
He put her back in her bed once she was clean and re-diapered, but predictably, she wouldn't stay. She followed him back to the guest room and cried while he stripped the bedding and tossed it into a hamper. He nearly fell to his knees and offered a prayer of gratitude to all the gods when he found a protective mattress pad with a plastic lining underneath the sheets. The mattress wouldn't be soaked through with impossible-to-clean bodily fluids.
Then he had a choice. He could spend the next twenty minutes remaking the guest bed, or he could go ahead and make the move across the hall into his father's room, where he knew Leah had recently changed the sheets.
He was so goddamn tired.
"Come on," he told Alice, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into the master bedroom. "Let's go back to sleep."
"Okay, listen. I'm going to need to apologize to Mrs. Cope."
"Miss Tope?"
"Yeah." Edward combed back the side of Alice's hair and clipped in the barrette she had requested. "The thing is, I was pretty rude to her a few days ago, and if I want to take you to daycare today, I'm going to have to eat a little crow."
"Chwo?"
"Yeah, crow. Fortunately, one of the companies Dad invested in is a florist. Two birds, one stone."
"Sone?"
"So we're going to stop by the florist on the way to daycare today. And after I drop you off, I'll pop around to as many of the other businesses as I can get to before I have to get back for the furniture movers."
"Moovoos?"
Alice was in a cooperative mood. That might have had something to do with the billows of diaphanous pink fabric that she had been a little extra excited to put on that morning. It was sort of endearing how she never stopped getting excited about her dresses.
Edward was feeling a little self-conscious about taking her back to daycare today, and not just because he was going to have to grovel for forgiveness. He didn't really know how the whole daycare thing was done. Was he supposed to provide lunch? Snacks? Enough to share with the other kids? He really didn't know. He had Googled it and found a list of things he should pack in a daycare diaper bag, but it didn't say anything about food. He'd finally packed a sandwich and several boxes of raisins in a sack and stuck them down inside the diaper bag. His kid wasn't going to starve on his watch, but the rest of the little rugrats were on their own.
"Ready to go?" he asked her. "Got your pendy puss?"
She gasped. "Hammye pendy puss?" She looked like she expected him to say no, as though he ever told her she couldn't take it with her. When he nodded, she ran gleefully back to the bedroom and came back out with her bag hoisted over her shoulder.
"All right, let's get in the car. Come on, short stack."
"Mon, so-sat."
It was a quick drive to the florist, but Alice insisted on having her "weentine" anyway. Edward put on her selection—The Lego Batman Movie this time—and got them on the road to the florist. They'd barely gotten through the opening credits when they stopped, but Alice didn't seem to mind. Edward suspected that being allowed to watch a movie meant more to her than what was actually happening in it. That was fine with him.
"Hode hanns," Alice sing-songed as he set her down in the parking lot, which, yeah, was a pretty good idea. He took her hand and led her into the shop.
The man behind the counter was familiar, though it took a few seconds to come up with the name. "Ben," he finally said. "From the pool."
The man grinned back at him. "And your house."
"My . . . house?"
"Yeah. Angela and I brought some dinner over."
"I didn't meet you for the first time at the pool?"
He laughed and shook his head. "You've probably met a lot of people lately, huh?"
"Yeah. Sorry. Apparently I'm not keeping everyone straight."
"No worries. Hi, Alice."
"Hi!"
"What can I help you with today?"
"An apology," Edward told him. "I need your most repentant bouquet."
Ben chuckled. "Lady problems?"
"In a manner of speaking. I . . . was rude to the woman at Alice's daycare."
"Oh, yeah, I heard about that." Ben began plucking flowers from buckets behind the counter.
"Seriously?"
He shook his head while he worked. "It's a small town. These things get around. Lucky for you, I happen to know that Shelly loves ruffled tulips. I'll make you the perfect arrangement." He added some dramatic red and white flowers to his collection and arranged them all into a pretty vase that he finished off with a bright red bow. "What do you think?"
"Pity fo-woze!" Alice gushed.
"That looks perfect. What do I owe you?"
He waved him away. "Don't worry about it. You're covered."
Edward pulled out his credit card and tapped it on the counter. "Covered?"
"Ted's family gets free flowers."
Edward frowned. It was like the bed and breakfast all over again. He glanced down at the folder he'd set on the counter and flipped it open. His father had invested pretty heavily in the flower shop. Was that why Ben felt compelled to provide free flowers? "Because my dad holds shares?"
"Yep. That was the deal. I'd have had to close this place down if he hadn't invested in it. The least I can do is give him some free flowers."
"I'm not him," Edward said.
Ben smirked, tidying up his counter. "Pretty darn close, though, right? Anyway, I assume you inherited his shares."
Edward double-checked the paperwork to make sure he was talking to the right person. Ben and Angela Cheney were listed as the owners and operators.
"Actually, I wanted to have a quick conversation with you about that. Dad actually left half of his shares to you and Angela."
Ben stopped, staring down at the pruning shears in his hand. He didn't speak, and
Edward wondered for a moment if he should repeat himself. Then Ben rubbed a hand hard over his jaw and looked back at him, tears shining in his eyes. "Did he?" he asked, his voice thick.
"Yeah. I guess that means something to you?"
He shrugged, trying to come off nonchalant. "It means I have a controlling interest again. And no offense, but I was a little anxious about that. Ted let me run things pretty much the way I wanted to, but I wasn't sure if . . . if you'd have other ideas."
"Nah. Dad was the venture capitalist, not me. Anyway, I'm not the one you have to worry about." He jerked his head toward Alice. "The kid inherited the other half."
Ben smiled at her, trying to blink away his tears. "What? Alice, you're my business partner now?"
"Yes!" Alice said, though Edward was pretty sure she didn't have a clue what they were talking about.
"I think I should give you a welcome gift!" He plucked a cluster of carnations from a bucket and, with impressive swiftness, bound them up with some ribbon and attached them to an elastic wristband. "Here you go." He took Alice's hand and slipped the corsage onto her wrist.
"So pity!" she squealed. "Uh-wud! See it!"
"Wow, you have a corsage!" he said, playing along with her enthusiasm.
"Habba soj!"
"What do you say to Ben?"
He wasn't sure whether she would know what he meant, but she turned to Ben and gave him a delighted "Deenchoo!"
"Welcome to the team, junior investor."
Edward passed him the folder and showed him where to sign to acknowledge the transfer of ownership. "I'll get this back to the lawyers," he said, taking one copy and leaving the other with Ben. And, like I said, Alice and I aren't really business people, so we'll pretty much leave you alone. But if you need help with anything, let me know. I may know some people who can advise us as needed."
"That's great," Ben said with a private smile. "And—just know, Angela and I really loved your dad. We're so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you. But now that you know that I'm not part-owner in the business, can I pay for the flowers?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You're still a Masen, and Masens get free flowers here."
"What kind of an apology is it if it's free?"
Ben winked. "Don't tell her that part."
Edward gave in and scooped Alice up. "I ought to get with you about putting in an order for Dad's memorial service."
"Taken care of," Ben said. "The funeral home sent the order over a couple of days ago. I promise I'll do him proud."
"Thank you." Edward hoped that an order from the funeral home meant that the flowers would actually be paid for. "I'll see you around."
"Monday at the pool," Ben said with a wave.
"I'll be sure to wear swimming trunks this time."
Note to self, buy some swimming trunks.
Edward found it vaguely annoying that it took longer to strap Alice into her carseat and start her movie than it took to drive from the florist to the daycare. Trying to function with a kid around was like trying to sprint through a swamp. No matter how hard he tried, every step took four times as long as it was supposed to.
But eventually they made it to the daycare, an undistinguished gray house with a fenced yard. Edward fought back the compulsion to walk the perimeter of the fence and test its strength. He reminded himself that his father, the man who had taught him to be so cautious, had already approved this daycare. He would never have done that if it weren't safe.
Alice clearly liked coming here because she started running toward the house as soon as her feet hit the ground. She didn't stop until she was at the door, thwarted by the out-of-reach knob. It gave Edward a chance to catch up with her and enter along with her.
Inside the door was a small reception area with an abundance of diaper bags hanging from hooks on one wall. There was a metal railing that separated the reception area from a large living room, and beyond the railing several children were playing with various toys.
Alice made a beeline for a plump, red-haired woman and threw herself at the woman's knees.
"Waynos dee-us, Anoa Tope!"
"¡Buenos días, Alice!"
Edward blinked in surprise. "Hang on. Has she been speaking Spanish this whole time? Is that why I can never understand her?"
The woman laughed brightly. "She may have used a little."
"Diss Uh-wud!" Alice announced. "Diss Awiss! Diss Anoa Tope!"
"Mucho gusto," Mrs. Cope said gamely.
Edward shook her offered hand and then gave her the flowers he had brought in. "Listen, I want to apologize for the other day. You caught me off guard, but that's no excuse. I was really rude and you didn't deserve that."
"Oh, Dr. Masen, that isn't necessary," she said, but he could tell she liked the flowers.
"It is, but that's very gracious of you."
"Anoa Tope! Pity jwess!"
"Si, un vestido bonito," she agreed cheerfully.
"Bussido aneeto!"
"Muy bien."
"So you speak Spanish with the kids here?" Edward asked.
"Partly." She stooped down to address Alice. "En la mañana hablamos . . ."
"Apon-yo!"
"And in the afternoon we speak . . ."
"Eenjwish!"
"¡Muy bien, querida!"
A bilingual daycare. Edward was impressed.
"It helps the Spanish speakers learn English," Mrs. Cope explained to him, "and it gives the English speakers some basic familiarity with Spanish."
"That's really cool."
She was reaching for the diaper bag that Edward had slung over his shoulder, so he surrendered it and watched her carry it to the hooks and hang it from one that had a photograph of Alice tacked over it. Edward moved to get a closer look and smiled. Alice was a little younger in the photo, even more round-faced and dimple-cheeked, but there was something odd about her. It took him a minute to realize that she wasn't wearing one of her poofy dresses. She was clad in a pair of overalls and a T-shirt, and Edward had to wonder when the dress fetish had started.
Mrs. Cope leaned down and said something to Alice in Spanish that Edward didn't understand
"No," Alice said sulkily, shaking her head. "No cho-wo."
Mrs. Cope spoke again, gently easing Alice's pendy puss out of her grasp while she pointed into the living room where the other kids were playing.
Alice perked up. "Yeeyee!" she squealed, waving wildly at someone in the play area.
Mrs. Cope unlatched the gate to let her in and then stood and handed the purse to Edward. "We probably shouldn't have Alice's toys at the daycare. They'll end up getting mixed in with all of the ones here, and I'm afraid I'll never know the difference."
Alice had run a few steps into the room, but she stopped and turned back to wave. "A-yos, Uh-wud!"
"Adios, kid." He turned back to Mrs. Cope. "So how do you do the billing? Do I pay you up front?"
"Don't you worry about that," she said, waving him away. "Alice comes here for free."
"Um." Edward scratched the back of his head. "Listen. Did Dad pay for anything in this town?"
She laughed brightly and waved at the people who were walking in the door. Edward waited while she exchanged greetings with them and got the kids settled in the play area before turning back to him.
"Your father," she said, picking up the conversation, "was a lifesaver. I'd have had to close my doors permanently if not for him. I don't know how I would have survived the shutdown if he hadn't invested enough money to keep us afloat."
"Of course. He invested in the daycare."
"Yes, he was a silent partner. And now that Alice is old enough to come here, she comes for free, just like the children of the other staff members."
"Right. I think I've got some paperwork for you to sign. I'll be right back."
Ten minutes later, Edward left the daycare with signed documents from Shelly Cope and the assurance that the daycare would provide lunch and snacks so he didn't have to bring them. He also left with the peanut butter sandwich that he had made for Alice. Peanuts were apparently unwelcome in places where children congregated.
Back in the car, he flipped open the folder and scanned the list for a name he was suddenly certain he would find. Sure enough, about three-quarters of the way down the first page he found the Willow Tree Inn. Edward suspected that, like the florist and the daycare, the Willow Tree Inn had been bailed out of hard times by his father and they had refused to charge Edward either out of gratitude or because of some kind of deal that Ted had struck.
Well. That was as good a place as any to start. He started to punch the address into his GPS app until he remembered that it didn't work. He'd have to do something about that. If Alice was going to hold investments in this place, he needed to make sure that people could find it.
Fortunately, he was able to recall the directions that Bella had written out for him before, so it wasn't so hard to make his way there again. He parked near one of the willow trees on the grounds and headed into the building.
It was early enough that a couple of diners were lingering over coffee at a corner table. The Morning Person that he'd met a few days ago breezed out of a back room, coffee pot in hand, and moved to freshen their cups. When she turned and saw Edward, she smiled widely.
"I was hoping I'd run into you. Hang on." She disappeared into the back room, and when she returned she was holding a folded bundle of cash. "Here. You must have forgotten this in your room."
"That was a tip," he protested.
"Uh-huh." She pressed the money into his hand. "I told you, Ted's kids don't pay here."
"It's super convenient for me that I get the benefit of his generosity." But he accepted the cash because he knew he was about to hand over something a lot more valuable. "You're Emily, right?"
"Oh, yeah, did I not introduce myself before?"
"I don't even know." He gave her a sheepish shrug. "I wasn't all that focused when I was here last."
She nodded in commiseration.
"Dad left something for you and Sam in his will."
"Oh. Um." She looked at the coffee pot and then around the room. "Hang on." She disappeared into the back room again and then returned sans pot.
Edward gestured to a table and they sat down. He explained the instructions from the will, and Emily put a hand to her heart.
"He was so kind, Edward," she murmured. "Of course, you know that, but . . . he was just so kind."
"He sure as hell loved this town," he replied, glancing over the list in his folder.
"We loved him right back. I hope you know, people around here just adored him."
"Well, yeah." He waved the folder and winked. "He bought everyone's affections."
She laughed but shook her head. "You know it wasn't that."
Edward understood perfectly, but he was still getting used to the idea that other people did. He had always known the intense way his father could care about someone. He was used to having the man's full attention when he spoke, having his frequent and interested concern. And yet, he knew that his father hadn't always shown that same concern to other people. He had been more reserved in public, at least while Edward was growing up. Other people hadn't always seen the best side of him. But it did seem like the people of Forks got to see him at his best, and Edward had to wonder what special magic they had worked to win it from him. He suddenly found himself being very curious about his father's neighbors.
He finished up with Emily, accepting the warm hug she offered despite the slight awkwardness of her protruding belly. And then, with renewed interest in his project, he set off to meet some of the people Ted had loved.
It was a fascinating day. He didn't really expect to find the people he went looking for right away. Surely there would be owners of businesses who wouldn't be actively working in them, even on a Tuesday morning. In his experience, business owners frequently delegated the day-to-day operations to a staff member and rarely even visited the site. But that wasn't what he found in Forks. These were truly small businesses, and the people who owned them were the ones who worked them. Almost invariably, without even calling ahead, Edward found the people he was looking for serving food, cutting hair, clerking counters, keeping books, and doing other work necessary for their businesses to run. He did have to chase the owner of a construction company to one of the build sites, and since a few of the businesses were dot-coms run out of residential addresses, Edward called ahead before dropping in on them. It felt too intrusive to show up at someone's home unannounced. By the time he needed to get home to meet the movers, he had been able to check in with everyone except for the owner of a nail salon. She would be working a swing shift that day, so Edward would have to come back after he picked up Alice.
He thought that might be kind of fun, actually. If the manicurists were willing, he would see about having them do Alice's nails.
But even more interesting than the ease of access was the emotion that he saw on the faces of the people he spoke to. Without exception, there was a moment with all of them when he saw the dread that they had felt at losing the things they had worked so hard to create. Building a business was a terrifying prospect even in the best of times, and when the economy tanked due to a global pandemic, a struggling business barely stood a chance. But Ted had given them the lifeline that they had needed to scrape through the hard times, and then he had willed them back a larger share of their future profits.
"I don't think he ever even saw any money," a coffee shop owner told him. "His initial investment paid for a remodel so we could put in a drive-through window, and then he just kept investing his share into equipment upgrades."
"He came here for coffee all the time, though, didn't he?" Edward said with a smirk.
She laughed and nodded.
"Trust me, he got his money's worth. The man was very particular about his coffee."
The thing Edward didn't make much progress on was Tori's podcast. He had expected to have plenty of listening time in the car, but everything was so close together that he hadn't actually spent much time driving. And when he'd ventured away from the rather compact main street into the residential areas, he had been on his phone calling ahead to see if it was a good time to stop by. He'd managed to catch a few minutes when he'd stopped for lunch at the diner, but then an older man at the table next to him had started chatting and Edward had turned off his phone to listen to him tell stories about Ted. It had been worth it, but if he didn't leave an informed review soon he would definitely hear about it from Tori.
He listened as he parked his car in the garage and got ready for the movers to show up, but they arrived less than five minutes after he did, so was still only a quarter of the way into the episode when he had to turn it off again.
Oh, well. He would get to it later.
He opened the door and invited the two movers in to show them what he wanted done.
"I need to clear this room out," he said. "Those file cabinets need to go into the master bedroom at the end of the hall, probably on either side of the dresser. The bookcase can go in the living room, Alice's desk will go in her room . . . and this one I'd like you to take out of here." He patted his father's heavy oak desk, waiting for them to grimace at the size of it.
They just shrugged, and one of them replied, "That's going to be a piece of cake with that ramp. We'll go get the hand trucks."
Fifteen minutes later, Edward was "helping"—but really just standing uselessly on the porch while the men very carefully maneuvered the desk through the front door. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced up. Carlisle was stepping out of the house, full garbage bag in hand, and he stopped when he looked up at them. Edward raised a hand in greeting and Carlisle nodded to him. He disposed of his trash and then crossed the yard, eyeing the desk and the men maneuvering it.
"Are you leaving already?" he asked. He was clearly trying to sound casual, but he wasn't doing a good job of hiding the sadness in his eyes.
"No, not yet. I'm just rearranging the office a little."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "As it turns out, I might be around for a few months more. I was invited to work on a project with a woman in Sekiu, so it makes sense for me to camp out here for a little while."
Carlisle smiled, but once again made a mild effort at covering his true feelings. "Isn't that inconvenient for you? I know you weren't eager to stay."
"It's no big deal." He shrugged. "It's a good project. Anyway, Alice's therapist thinks gradual changes will be good for her, so it's probably something I should be doing anyway."
"I can't say I'm disappointed," Carlisle said with a sheepish smile. "I'll be pleased to get to know you a little better."
"Likewise."
The movers managed to ease the desk through the doorway, and Carlisle raised a hesitant hand as if to stop them. "Are you . . . getting rid of the desk?"
"Yeah, my work is a little different than Dad's. I need to swap in some specialized furniture."
"Would it be a terrible imposition if I took it?"
"The desk?" Edward watched the men easing it down the ramp. "You want it?"
"We spent a lot of hours working together at that desk," he said quietly.
Edward called out to the movers to stop them. "Hey, would you guys mind moving that over to the house next door instead of taking it to Goodwill?"
The guys both shrugged.
Carlisle flashed Edward a grateful smile and trotted back across the yard to open the door. Edward followed and lingered while the desk made its way down the ramp to his door and back up the ramp to Carlisle's. Once they had set it where Carlisle directed them to, Edward paid them the quoted price and added a generous bonus. They said goodbye, leaving Edward and Carlisle alone again.
"Are you looking to furnish your office now?" Carlisle asked.
"Already done. I ordered the desks in. Should be here tomorrow."
"Ah."
The man's face was so transparent. Edward could tell he was disappointed with the answer.
"Not what Dad would have done?"
"It's fine," he said, shaking his head.
"But . . . ?"
He gave a weak smile. "Money leaves this community more easily than it comes in. Ted and I have made an effort to do what purchasing we could here in Forks."
"Know of someone here who sells drafting tables?" Edward asked skeptically.
"No, I guess not."
"What about electronics?" he asked, seeing an opportunity to offer an olive branch. "I was thinking of lining a couple of those walls with computer monitors. It's not necessary, but it would be nice to be able to see the digitized panels side by side."
Carlisle perked up. "Yes, I think I know of someone who can help you." He scrolled through his phone for a moment and sent Edward a text. Edward read, "Eric Yorkie" and a phone number and nodded.
"I'll give him a call."
Carlisle turned back to the desk, rubbing his hand affectionately over the dark wood finish. "Thank you for this. It means more to me than you know."
Edward nodded. He was starting to feel a little defensive, though he couldn't have said exactly why. "So, you and my dad. I mean . . . you had, like . . ."
"A thing for him," Carlisle said, smiling to himself. "Yes."
"I'm sorry. That had to be hard."
A look of confusion passed over Carlisle's face. "Hard? No."
That took him aback. "Wait. Did you guys have a relationship?"
"Yes. He was my closest friend."
"Yeah, but . . ." Edward didn't really know where to go with that.
"I needed him in my life. I needed to have some kind of relationship with him. If he'd wanted a romantic one, I'd have been happy. He wanted a friendship." He reached out and gripped Edward's shoulder. "And I was happy. It was enough."
Edward nodded. "Good. I mean, that's good. You just . . . seem so sad."
His eyes watered and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I lost my best friend."
Which was so obvious that Edward felt stupid. He'd attributed the sadness at least a little bit to unrequited love. And, well, he wasn't entirely ready to let that idea go. Surely there must have been some kind of regret there. But if Carlisle was okay with the state of things, Edward had no business trying to tell him not to be.
"So I've been thinking about the memorial," Edward said. "About a eulogy. I'm wondering how you think it would go over here if we sort of . . . crowd-sourced it."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been visiting people today," he said. "The people who owned businesses he invested in. And a lot of them told me nice things he'd done for them. I was thinking about how maybe I'm not even the right person to talk about his legacy. He's been doing all this incredible stuff and I didn't know about any of it."
"But we don't know him as a father," Carlisle pointed out.
"No, and that's exactly it. I don't think there's any one person who could do him justice. So I thought . . . maybe we'd just open-mic it and invite people to share a memory of him. I would start and then turn it over to anyone who wanted to share something, and then maybe you could step in and get the ball rolling?"
Carlisle was nodding as he spoke. "I think that sounds really nice."
"Yeah? You don't think"—Bella—"people will think I'm just half-assing the funeral?"
"No. I think they'd love to participate."
"Okay. I think we'll go ahead and do that."
"Will there be a reception afterward? I can get some people to help with food."
"It's taken care of. Dad's package included a catered lunch after the ceremony."
Carlisle nodded. "Have you sent the funeral home an obituary for the newspapers yet?"
"The . . . Forks newspapers?"
Carlisle smiled at his dubious tone. "Yes. They usually submit to the Forks Forum and the Peninsula Daily News."
Huh. Forks had newspapers. Who knew?
"I probably ought to send something to the major Seattle papers as well."
Carlisle nodded. "I'm sorry. This is a lot."
"Yeah. How do you sum up a life in one paragraph?"
"I wouldn't know where to begin."
Edward left Carlisle alone shortly after that. He considered turning on Tori's podcast again, but suddenly the obituary seemed more important. He sat down and tried to scribble out a few lines of tribute to his father instead.
He failed completely. Nothing he wrote came even close to saying what he wanted to say. He spent a lot of time scratching out sentences and staring into space until it was time to put it aside and go pick up Alice.
But when he walked into the daycare and scanned the room, he didn't see her. The daycare attendants had all of the children gathered in a circle, playing some game that involved clapping in patterns, but Alice wasn't among them. When Mrs. Cope saw him, she stood and moved to the foyer.
"Can I have a quick word?" she asked him.
"What's wrong? Is Alice okay?"
"She'll be fine."
His heart rate doubled. "What do you mean, she will be?"
Her eyes widened at his reaction. "Oh, no, please, there's nothing really wrong. She's not injured or anything."
Edward tried to take slow, deep breaths to settle himself down. "Where is she?"
"Well . . . she's . . ." She pointed to the side of the room, where a package of of paper plates and a few rolls of paper towels were scattered on the floor next to a set of wooden cupboards.
"What—oh. She's in the cupboard?"
Mrs. Cope nodded.
Edward laughed. "Does she do that often?"
"Sometimes," Mrs. Cope admitted. "When she's very upset."
"Did something happen?" he asked, but his panic had settled down into mild concern. He'd seen Alice upset enough to hide in the cabinets before.
"I just want to talk to you about her dresses."
"Okay."
"She loves them so much. I'm sure I don't have to tell you." She flashed him a rueful smile. "But it upsets her so much when they get dirty."
"Oh, yeah, I've definitely seen that. I put an extra one in her bag . . ."
"Yes, we used that," Mrs. Cope said, nodding. "But they're children, you know. They spill things and play in the dirt, and their clothes do all of that right along with them."
"She got both of them dirty, huh? No wonder she's upset."
"It's really better if she comes to daycare in play clothes."
Edward blinked. "Does she . . . did Dad . . . did Dad bring her in play clothes?"
"Yes. I think he let her wear dresses most everywhere else, but here she needs something more functional."
"So . . . she must have other clothes somewhere . . ." It occurred to Edward that there were drawers in her changing table that he'd never even opened. They hadn't been necessary before, but now he felt sort of stupid having not even looked at what was available.
"Okay. I got it. No dresses and no Fendi purse at daycare."
"Thank you. That would help so much."
Edward turned his attention to the cupboard. "I guess I'd better see if I can coax her out of there." He took a step toward the metal railing, but then paused. "Am I allowed in there?"
"Yes. We mostly try to restrict that space to kids and staff, but caregivers can go in when it's necessary."
"Okay." He hesitated again, then stepped over to Alice's diaper bag and fished out the raisins he'd put in there. It wouldn't hurt to have a little bribe. "Here we go."
He made his way to the cupboard, and as he approached he could hear Alice's quiet whimpering inside. He sat down next to the cabinet and knocked lightly on the door.
"DOH WAY!" she screamed.
"Hey, Alice," he murmured.
"NO!"
"I heard you had a pretty rough day," he said.
Her answer was a low, discontented wail.
"Did your pretty dress get dirty?"
She hiccupped. "Uh-huh."
"I'm sorry. That's my fault. Mrs. Cope says I'm supposed to bring you to daycare in play clothes."
"Uh-huh."
"I'll know better next time. Do you want to come out?"
"No."
"Are you sure? I've got some raisins here."
There was a pause, and then the cabinet door pushed open a crack and a little brown baby hand poked out, palm up. Edward stifled a laugh and put a box of raisins in her hand. It disappeared again and the cabinet fell closed. After another moment of silence, the hand poked out again.
"Open it."
"Oh. Sorry." Edward opened the box and put it back in her hand, which disappeared inside for a minute.
And then there was silence. Edward hoped that eating the raisins would help distract her from the devastation of yet another soiled dress. When a minute or two had passed with no sound, he figured he'd better say something again.
"You know what?" he told her. "We never really celebrated our new custody arrangement." She didn't answer, so he kept going. "We're officially family now, so we should do something fun to commemorate that. Maybe we should have ourselves a little party."
The door opened and Alice peered out at him. "Habba potey?"
"Yeah. Does that sound fun?"
"Hassum tuptapes?"
"Uh . . . cupcakes?"
She nodded.
"Yeah. Yeah, I bet we could pick some up at the Thriftway."
"Tah-why tummeen?"
"Um, sure. I bet he'd like to. I'll see if he's free." He took out his phone and shot a quick text to Carlisle to see if he was available that evening. Alice insisted on being involved, of course, so he let her have the phone to type in a few random characters and send them.
"We should take a selfie together," he told her.
"Sofie?"
"Yeah. Come here." He beckoned her out of the cupboard and had her sit on his lap so he could show her how to use the phone for a selfie. He took one of the two of them, and then let her take several more that were too close and blurred from camera movement. Then he picked out several of the pictures and sent them off to Carlisle.
An answer came back a moment later: I'd love to come. What time?
"What time should we do it?" he asked her. "After dinner, you think? Maybe seven o'clock?"
"Oh, yes!"
Edward texted back the details and then turned to Alice again.
"You know what we should do? We should go get our nails done before the party."
"A-dat?"
"Have you ever had your nails polished?"
"Po-wish?"
"I think you're going to like this," Edward said. "Come on, this is going to be fun."
Edward scooped up Alice, getting a good look for the first time at the big brown stain on her skirt. For a moment he worried that it was something truly appalling on her dress, but he caught a faint whiff of what smelled like chocolate milk, and he let out a relieved breath. That was far less horrifying than the alternative.
Lego Batman accompanied them to the nail salon, where Edward helped Alice out of her carseat and carried her inside. A blond woman met them at the register, giving Edward a wide smile.
"Is Bonnie here?" he asked her.
"She stepped out for a few minutes." The blonde looked at him from beneath her lashes. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yeah, actually. While we wait for her, Alice and I want to get our nails done."
"Hi!" Alice said.
"You're both getting them done?" she asked skeptically.
"Yeah, I love manicures. Makes my cuticles feel great."
"Okay. Sure. Do you want her nails polished?"
"Alice, look at these," Edward said, pointing to the rows of polish mounted on the wall next to the register. "What color do you want on your nails?"
"Nayos?"
"Yeah, like this." He gestured to the blonde's pink-painted fingernails. "Do you want pretty colors on your fingers like she has?"
"Oh, yes!"
"What color?" He gestured to the bottles again.
Alice scanned the rows and then brightened. "Potoey wun!"
"Which one? Show me."
She pointed to a set of glittery colors and Edward grinned. "You want sparkly polish?"
"Yes!"
"Which color?"
"Um . . . ownj wun!"
"Orange it is," Edward said, and the blonde plucked the bottle off the shelf.
"Uh-wud hassum?"
"Me? No, I was just going to have my hands tidied up. I don't need any polish."
"Yes. Iss pity."
He considered arguing with her, but she was in a good mood after having so recently been crying in a cupboard, so he figured he'd just go along with it. It was a party, after all.
"Okay, I'll get some polish. What color should I get?"
"Um. Um. Popo wun!"
Edward pointed to a pale lavender polish. "This one?"
"Diss!" Alice's choice was a bold, glittery purple.
"Excellent. This one for me, please," he told the blonde.
She gave him an awkward smile. "Really?"
"Sure, why not? We want to have pretty fingers."
"Pity feendoos!"
"Um. Okay." She glanced around. "Gwen, can you come do a baby?"
"No! A-notta beebee!" Alice protested. "Diss yun yaidy."
Gwen, a brunette who had been tidying up, wiped her hands and came over to join them. They sat down at adjacent stations and Edward settled Alice at the table with Gwen.
"Put your hands out like this," Edward said, sitting with the blonde and showing Alice how to place her hands on the table until the technician was ready to work with them.
Gwen and the blonde started trimming their nails and Edward turned his attention to his technician. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"I'm Lauren," she said, giving him another coy smile. "And you're Junior, right?"
"Edward," he corrected. "I guess you knew my dad?"
She smirked. "He was such a zaddy."
Which was . . . awkward. Who said that kind of thing to the children of the zaddy in question? "I guess I'll trust you on that one."
"How do you like Forks so far?" Lauren asked.
"It's . . . small. Not a lot of amenities."
"Right?" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's such a dump."
"I mean, it's got its good points," he said, feeling the need to defend the town his father had loved even while he basically agreed with her. "I mean, the trees are gorgeous."
She wrinkled her nose. "I've always wanted to move to LA. It's way cooler."
"Yeah? LA is a pretty good city. I like it there."
"I'm thinking about going into acting."
Edward tried not to be too judgmental when he looked at her, but it wasn't easy. She had the look of a starlet who was just past her prime. It wasn't that she couldn't make it in films, but she should probably have started ten or fifteen years ago. Still, you never knew. "Acting. That sounds challenging. Have you ever done any local theater?"
"Here?" She snorted. "I don't think so. This place is so cheap. The shows they put on here are a joke."
"You've got to start somewhere, though, right?"
She tossed her hair. "I can do better than that."
"Cool. Best of luck to you, then."
A slightly awkward silence settled between them and Edward took the opportunity to check on Alice.
"How you doing over there, kid?"
"Hassum yoshun!"
"Yeah? Gwen's putting lotion on your hands?"
"Uh-huh! A-soff!"
"That's my favorite part. I love how soft it makes my fingers."
"You hassum?"
Lauren started rubbing cream into his cuticles and he nodded. "Yep. I'm getting some too."
Alice giggled.
"You're practically a celebrity around here," Lauren told him, reclaiming his attention.
"Yeah? I'm hearing that my dad talked about me a lot."
"Have you met many people?"
"Quite a few. I've been talking with some of the small business owners around town, and on Sunday I had dinner with some of Dad's close friends.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Did you meet Bella Swan?"
"Yeah." He was irritated by how uncomfortable their little spat still made him. "She seems great."
"Be careful around her," Lauren warned. She leaned in close. "She's obsessed with you."
"Um." He sat back. "What?"
"I heard she built a shrine to you at the library."
"At the . . . library?"
"Just be careful, that's all I'm saying."
"Hang on. Where is this coming from? Did she say something?"
"She's been saying it for ages," Lauren said with a breathy laugh. "She's always talking about getting with you. I'm pretty sure she's already planned your wedding."
Edward had no idea what to think of this topic, except that if Bella had ever held fond feelings for him, he'd probably managed to kill them off. "I don't know. She didn't seem all that in love when I met her."
"She's probably playing hard to get," Lauren said slyly.
"Really, really hard to get," he muttered.
"I'm just saying. Watch out for her."
"Uh-wud! See it!"
Edward looked over at Alice. She was poking out one finger, which had been painted with glittering orange polish.
"Hey! That looks so good!"
"Iss pity!"
"It sure is! Be careful not to touch it. We have to let it dry so it won't smear."
Alice inspected her fingers as Gwen guided her hand back and started brushing color onto the other nails.
Lauren shook the bottle of purple polish and gave it a dubious look. "Are you sure about this?"
"A hundred percent. Alice and I are doing this together."
"Okay, then. Just don't blame me when someone thinks you're gay."
Her implied homophobia annoyed him a little, but he just shook his head. "I don't mind if they think I'm gay, just as long as they don't think I'm cheap. So do a nice job." He winked at her.
Five minutes later, Edward and Alice had their hands poked into fan dryers. Alice kept pulling hers out to admire her polish, so progress was slower than it could have been. A woman breezed through the front door juggling a purse, a water bottle, a coffee cup, and several papers, and before she could get to the back of the shop, Lauren called after her.
"Bonnie, Edward Masen is here to see you."
Bonnie turned, looking confused, and her gaze fell on Edward. "Oh! You do look like him, don't you?"
Edward smiled in response.
"I just need to put everything down. Give me two shakes of a cougar's tail. Lauren, no charge for these two!" She disappeared into an office and returned unladen. She pulled a chair up next to Edward and inspected his nails under the fan. "Nice choice. Bold color."
"Thanks. And thanks for sitting with me for a couple of minutes. I wanted to talk to you about my dad's will."
Edward explained the situation with the company shares, and Bonnie sat back, folding her arms under her ample bosom.
"I told him so! I told him!"
Edward cocked his head.
"My ex-husband. He was just sure that Ted was buying everything up cheap and that he was going to foreclose on all the businesses as soon as possible. He's been referring to the town as Masenville for the last year and a half."
Edward chuckled. "I can see how he might get that idea. My dad invested in a lot of businesses."
"He cared about this town," Bonnie said decisively. "I wouldn't have taken his money otherwise."
"Now you've got to worry about Alice, though," Edward joked. "That one's a shark."
"I'n a sote?" Alice asked.
Edward and Bonnie laughed.
"Beebee sote, a-doo a-doo! Beebee sote, a-doo a-doo!"
Edward was pretty sure she was singing, but he didn't have any idea what the song was.
He settled the paperwork with Bonnie, and she startled him by throwing her arms around him and squeezing after she'd signed the papers.
"You're a good boy, Edward Masen. Thanks for bringing this by. I have to go call Waylon and tell him I was right!"
Edward grinned and returned to his seat. "How are your nails?" he asked Alice, tapping his own. "I think mine are dry enough."
"A-dun!"
He felt her fingertips just to be sure. "Yep, I think we're ready to go."
"You just let me know if there's anything I can help you with," Lauren cooed at him.
Edward slipped her a tip and took Alice out to her carseat. "Shall we head to the Thriftway and get those cupcakes?" he asked her.
"Yes!"
They did, and Alice chose a tray of mini cupcakes topped with rainbow-colored swirls of icing. When they were headed for the cash register, though, something caught Edward's eye. Next to a selection of hair products was a rack of metal tiaras set with rhinestones of various colors. He paused to examine them and Alice gasped.
"Yawa! Yawa! Uh-wud! Hassum!" She was so excited that her little baby feet were paddling the ground in the cutest little dance he'd ever seen.
"You want one of these tiaras?" And of course she did. It was why he'd stopped.
"Pease! Hassum!"
"Okay, which one do you want?" He started turning the rack, and Alice examined each of them with eager delight. Eventually, unable to resist, she seized two of the tiaras and held them up. One was silver with colorless rhinestones and the other was gold with little faux pearls.
"Just one," he told her.
"No! Hattoo! Pease!" Her excitement turned to pleading, and those big brown eyes absolutely shattered his resolve. After all, the two tiaras were totally different . . .
"I think I just figured out how kids get spoiled," he told her. "It's not because the parents are weak, it's because the kids are adorable."
She looked hopeful. "Hassum?"
"Yes, you can have them."
She giggled happily and hugged them to her chest.
"You think there's any other fun dress-up stuff that we should get?" he asked her, looking around the store. He spotted a sparse toy aisle not far away and guided her to it. He scanned the toy cars, green army men, plastic handcuffs, and then his eyes settled on a box that showed off a plastic tea kettle and a collection of little cups and saucers.
"Didn't Fancy Nancy have a tea party?" he asked Alice.
"Uh-huh."
"Look." He showed her the set. "Our party tonight could be a tea party."
"Yes!" she said, getting excited. "Yite Passy Nassy!"
"Right on. We'll have our cool tea set, you'll have your fabulous tiara, and . . ." He spotted several feather boas hanging at the end of the aisle and pointed. "And those! Feather boas! What do you think?"
"A-dat?"
"Come here." He led her down the aisle and selected a green feather boa, draping it around his neck and giving it a dramatic toss. "What do you think?"
"So pity!" she said, beginning her dance of excitement again.
"Which color do you want?"
"Um . . . wed wun!"
"Red, got it. What color should we get for Carlisle?"
"Um. Um. White wun!"
"White it is. We're gonna look so fancy."
"So passy!"
They were about to leave the aisle when one more thing caught Edward's eye. It was a plastic case of play makeup for children, including eye shadows, blushes, and a rainbow of little lipsticks. He deliberated for a moment, but he already had sparkly purple fingernails and an armful of feather boas, and if he was going all in he might as well go all in.
"Hey, Alice," he said, pointing to the set. "You want to get some makeup?"
"Maytup?"
He pointed to the set. "See? Some lipstick and eye shadow. What do you think?"
"Oh, yes!"
He grabbed the set and added it to his armload.
They carried their loot to the checkout counter, where it took some coaxing to convince Alice to surrender her new tiaras so they could be scanned. The cashier obliged her by handing them right back, for which Alice thanked her with energy.
Edward paid the bill with the cash Emily had returned to him, but when he accepted the change, Alice held out her hands expectantly.
"What?" he asked her.
"Hassum munny?"
"What do you need money for?"
"Immye baint."
"Ted always gives her the change," the cashier told him.
"Pease?" She gave him the cutest smile in the history of smiles and he folded. "Fine. Where's your pendy puss when we need it?"
"Inna taw?"
"Yeah, I think it's still in the car. I'll hold your tiaras and you can hold the money."
They made the trade and Edward guided her back to the car, where they deposited the money into a pocket of her purse. When they got home, Alice snatched up her purse and headed straight to her bedroom. Edward took the cupcakes to the kitchen, but after a moment he heard Alice calling his name from her room.
"Hope!" she said urgently. "Hope! Uh-wud!"
He headed to the bedroom and found her in front of the closet, stretching up on her toes. "What do you need?"
"A baint."
"A what, now?"
"Hope. Pease?"
Edward lifted her until she was level with her dresses, but she was still reaching upward. He raised her higher and she pointed to something in the top of the closet. "A baint!"
He set her down and reached back up for what she had pointed to. It turned out to be a plastic toy that mimicked an ATM machine. He set it on the floor and Alice started poking her coins into the top. Each time one went in, the toy made a little mechanical chime and a digital figure on the front of the machine increased by the increment of the coin. According to the read-out, there was a little over forty dollars in her bank.
When she'd pushed the last coin into the bank, she clapped her hands and grinned, her little nose wrinkling up in her enthusiasm.
"You have literal billions in a real bank, but putting coins in a plastic ATM makes you this happy?"
"Yes!"
He chuckled as he put her bank away.
Coaxing Alice into eating dinner that night was a challenge. At first she was preoccupied by her soiled dress, which she wanted to exchange for something extravagant and party-worthy. Edward took it off of her, but it took some persuasion to convince her to wait for the new one until after they'd eaten. Three more neighbors dropped off food, so they'd had a really nice stir-fry, but Alice was unimpressed with the offering. She complained until Edward finally relented and made up a box of the abominable macaroni and cheese that she was asking for.
"It's not real food," he'd muttered, setting a bowl of the horrible orange glop in front of her, but she'd smiled so winningly that he'd had no choice but to smile back.
Once dinner was over, the primping began. Alice practically vibrated out of her skin waiting for Edward to clean up the dinner dishes, and then she bolted down the hallway to select a dress. After much deliberation, they chose a floor-length peach number that looked astonishingly bad with Alice's red feather boa. She didn't care. She felt fancy, and Edward figured that was the important thing. He helped her pull her hair back into pigtails and settled the gold-and-pearl tiara onto her head at her request. Without the boa, the look was striking and sweet. With the boa it was a delightful farce. Edward snapped several photos, with and without the boa, and one of them turned out so unbearably cute that he had to share it with someone. He attached it to a text message and sent it to Tori.
And then it was time to completely ruin her look by adding makeup. Edward got out the set and placed it on the bathroom counter, lifting Alice up beside it. "What color of eyeshadow do you want?
"Um. Um. Ween wun."
"Green it is. Close your eyes."
She giggled when he swept the little spongy brush over her eyes, and when she checked out the results in the mirror, she clapped.
"Uh-wud hassum?"
"Sure, why not? What color should I wear?"
"Umm . . . peent wun."
He started to pick up the brush, but Alice made grabby hands at it. "No! No! A-hope you!"
"You want to do it?" He surrendered the applicator to her and she rubbed it rather harder than necessary in the pink eyeshadow. Edward dutifully closed his eyes and tried not to scrunch up his lids while she poked inexpertly at him with the brush. She rubbed it all around in much the same way she'd have scribbled on a piece of paper with a marker, and when she was done he eyed the results in the mirror. He had smears of pink all around his eyes, both above and below the lashes, and some of it even ended up above his eyebrows.
"Nice! Good job, Alice!"
She grinned.
"How about some of this blush?"
"Yes!"
He applied some to the apples of her baby cheeks and then allowed her to smear it all over the sides of his face, and when he looked in the mirror he blinked in surprise. "Wow, that is very glittery blush."
"So pity!"
"Hard to argue with that."
"A-diss?" Alice asked, pointing.
"It's lipstick."
"Yipsip?"
"Yep. Here, let me show you."
It was harder to apply the pink lipstick on her than he would have imagined. He himself would have made his lips taut, but Alice didn't know to do that and it was kind of difficult dabbing lipstick on soft lips. If Alice had been at all particular about the results, she wouldn't have been pleased. But her delighted response to her lip color told him that she was satisfied, and he dutifully allowed her to reciprocate by smearing burgundy lipstick all around his mouth.
He looked like a low-budget clown.
Still, he grinned and praised Alice and then wrapped their feather boas around them and snapped a selfie of the two of them. He sent it to Carlisle with a text letting him know they were ready for him to come over.
He was setting out the teacups on a blanket on the living room floor when Carlisle knocked, and Alice ran to the door. Edward followed to open it for them, and Carlisle swept Alice up into an enthusiastic hug.
"Tah-why, see it! So pity!"
"Oh my goodness, look how lovely you are tonight! Did you and Edward do each other's makeup?"
"Uh-huh! Hassum maytup!"
"That sounds like so much fun!"
"Habba tee potey! Yite Passy Nassy!"
"I've been looking forward to it all afternoon."
"I've got to figure out some tea," Edward said. "What do you suppose we have to drink?"
"Hassum appadoose!" Alice exclaimed, wriggling out of Carlisle's arms. She ran to the refrigerator and patted the door until Edward opened it for her.
"Good idea. Applejuice will make excellent tea."
He took it to the living room and poured it into the cups, and he was just returning from putting it away when the doorbell chimed again.
"Owizzit?" Alice called, running to the door.
Edward followed her, but when he saw Bella Swan's face on the view screen he pulled his hand back from the knob.
Carlisle noticed, and he shot Edward a pained look.
"Owizzit?" Alice called again, and Edward sighed. Fine. He would talk to her, but he wasn't about to let her ruin their good time. He plastered a smile on his face and swung the door open.
Bella took in the sight before her and blinked in surprise. Edward mentally dared her to say something insulting about Alice's makeup job.
"Oh, wow," she said from behind her hand. "You look amazing!"
"Don't we?"
"Habba tee potey!" Alice exclaimed.
"Oh!" Her hand flew to her mouth, and he was pretty sure she was hiding a grin. "You sparkle."
Edward lifted his chin so his glittery blush would best catch the light. "This is the skin of a diva."
She dropped her hand, grinning broadly. "I feel so underdressed."
"Mon!" Alice said, grabbing her hand. "Habba potey! Hassum tuptapes!"
"Alice," Carlisle said, "before we have our party, do you think you could help me put some makeup on?"
"Oh, YES! So pity!"
Edward wasn't sure whether he was glad to be left alone with Bella or not, but at least whatever she had to say wouldn't sour Alice's mood.
Bella held up a silver gift bag she'd been holding. "I heard you adopted Alice," she said. "I got you a gift to congratulate you . . . and to apologize."
Edward felt a fully involuntary smile spread across his face. "You're here to apologize?"
"Oh, stop it," she muttered, pushing past him and marching over to the sofa. "This is hard enough without you enjoying it so much."
"Wait, you're here to grovel for my forgiveness, but I'm not supposed to enjoy it?" He settled on the couch next to her, the irritated look on her face only widening his grin.
"First of all, no one is groveling for anything. I'll make my excuses and you can take them or leave them."
He shook his head. "I hate to break it to you, but this apology isn't going very well so far."
"Ugh, you're insufferable." She tossed the gift bag on the sofa cushion between them and buried her head in her hands.
"Now, now. That's the kind of talk that got you into this situation in the first place."
Bella drew in a deep breath and turned to him, a forced smile on her face. "I apologize for snapping at you the other day. It was more about me than about you, and I regret taking my frustrations out on you."
Edward gave her a long, evaluating look and then shook his head. "Nope. I'm not feeling it. Maybe you should try getting on your knees."
She grabbed the gift bag and smacked him in the chest with it.
He laughed as he caught it and decided to give her a break. "Okay, tell you what? I'll accept your apology on one condition."
She glared at him, waiting for him to be an asshole about it.
"Prepare something nice to say about my dad at his memorial service."
She raised her eyebrows. "You want me to give a eulogy?"
"No, I think we're not going to do eulogies. I'm just going to have people share memories of him, but I'm a little worried that nobody will want to participate. I figure if you and Carlisle each share something, other people might get on board."
She nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. I can do that."
"Thanks." He smiled at her for real this time. "So what's this frustration you're taking out on me?"
She looked away, and he got the impression that she didn't want him to see her face.
"It's nothing. It's just . . ." She shook her head. "Nothing." But she had to know that he wasn't going to let her off the hook, because she peeked at him and looked away again when he raised an expectant eyebrow. "It's just that I resent the hell out of you," she finally confessed.
"Wow. Swan, you are bad at apologizing."
"Shut up."
"Why? What did I do to make you resent me?"
"Nothing. You didn't do anything. Except lead a charmed life that lets you avoid taking responsibility for anything."
He blinked in shock. "Um. Ouch?"
She heaved a sigh.
"You don't think I take responsibility for anything?"
"I think you don't have to if you don't want to."
The apology was turning out to be more insulting than their original spat. "And you know so much about me?"
She shrugged. "All I know about you is that when a life-changing event happened, you assumed that someone else would handle it for you."
He had to make a conscious effort to relax the muscles in his jaw.
"And you were right. Someone would have. You could have walked away and lived your life however and wherever you chose to."
Edward was all ready to deliver a hot retort when he realized that she was crying. Her face was still turned away so he couldn't see, but he could hear the thickness in her voice that she was trying hard to hide. Curiosity won out over indignance.
"And you don't have that option?" he asked gently.
She shook her head, still looking away.
He let that settle for a moment before asking, "Where would you be? If you'd been able to decide for yourself?"
"New York."
"No kidding? Really?" Somehow he had a hard time picturing Bella as a New Yorker. She seemed so much a part of this place.
"I went to grad school there." She wiped impatiently under her eyes. "I was working in the New York Public Library—a cathedral of knowledge. I loved it so much."
"So what happened?"
"Dad got hurt. Somebody had to be here to help him. I arranged to finish my degree online, but I had to leave my job and move here."
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"It's not your fault." She wiped at her tears again and finally turned to face him. "And that's pretty much the point. Your situation reminded me of mine, and it bothered me that you had a choice when I didn't. But none of that is your fault. It's my stuff and I shouldn't have pushed it on you."
He nodded, silent for a moment. He could see where she was coming from, especially when she thought he was going to leave Alice with Carlisle and go back to Olympia. That would certainly feel unfair to her.
"You wish you'd been able to stay there."
She was slow to answer, but she eventually shook her head.
"I had to learn to love it here, but I did. This is a really special town. New York is impressive, but the people around here take care of each other. We're connected here, where in the city it always felt like I was on my own."
Edward wasn't sure he believed her, but he was glad that they were talking and wanted to keep it up. "What do you miss? If you could bring something from New York to Forks, what would it be?"
"The book culture. New York is where publishing lives, and there are always book fairs and meet-the-author events. I loved it so much."
"I'd be into that."
"And someplace where I can get gold dolmas," she said with a sudden fervency that caught Edward off-guard.
"Oh, god, yes. I would kill for a decent meal. What do people in this town have against good food?"
He caught the flash of irritation in her eyes, but she suppressed it and shook her head. "The price tag. The kind of food you want is expensive. Most people around here couldn't afford to buy it often enough to keep a restaurant in business."
Edward didn't really know what to say to that. He'd expressed many a disdainful opinion of cheap food, but he'd always meant cheap as in inferior, not less economically demanding. There was something grimly depressing about thinking of people spending their lives eating limp, boring food because the good stuff was out of financial reach. His complaints about the substandard dining in Forks suddenly felt conspicuously callous.
So he changed the subject.
"You ever go back to New York? To visit?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. Maybe eventually, when Charlie gets back on his feet. He needs me around all the time right now."
"Couldn't you hire someone to step in for a few days?"
She arched an eyebrow. "You could. In-home care is a little out of my price range."
Cool. Money again. Edward wasn't really used to having people point out that he had more access than they did—maybe because he spent most of his time with people in a higher tax bracket. But he had to admit that when he needed something, he got it. And when he wanted something . . . well, he got a lot of that too. He wasn't out buying a new sports car every weekend, but he didn't exactly make a habit of self-denial.
"Besides," she added, "Billy's there now, too, and they're used to me doing all the uncomfortable stuff. It would be hard for them to have anybody else step in."
"Uncomfortable stuff?"
She shot him an amused smile. "Ever have the pleasure of bathing your father?"
He cringed and she chuckled.
"He's to the point where I mostly don't have to see him naked these days, but I still have to help him with a lot of personal things. It's embarrassing for him."
And for Bella, Edward thought, but he kept it to himself.
Delighted giggling made him look up, and he saw that Alice and Carlisle had tiptoed to the end of the hall and were peeking at them from the shadows. Alice had painted Carlisle's face to match Edward's, which reminded him that he'd been sitting here talking about serious things with Bella while looking like a grand joke. He wasn't sure how she'd managed to keep a straight face.
"Looking hot, Carlisle," he called out with a grin.
"Boa toon!" Alice announced, running to Bella and grabbing her hand. "Mon! Hassum maytup!"
"Oh, sweetie, I can't stay," Bella told her. "I have to go home and make dinner for Charlie and Billy."
"No. Habba tee potey."
Carlisle shot a look at Edward, gauging the situation, before telling Bella, "Let me order pizza for them. That will give you some extra time."
"We won't be late," Edward agreed, and he was a little surprised to find that he genuinely wanted her to stay.
She pressed her lips together and Edward was pretty sure she was going to say yes. "If I stay, do I get to sparkle too?"
"Yes!" Alice declared. "Potoey! So pity!" She grabbed Bella's hand, and Bella let her drag her off to the bedroom for a makeover.
They didn't have a fourth feather boa, but Alice generously offered Bella her extra tiara and Edward found a silk scarf in his father's closet that dressed up her black slacks and fitted vest rather well. When Alice deemed Bella properly spruced, the four of them headed back out to the living room. Edward set out a fourth teacup and saucer, and they all settled down on the blanket for their tea party.
While Alice held court, chattering to Carlisle about something Edward couldn't follow, Edward took a sip of the apple juice tea.
"Wow," he muttered with a grimace. "That's . . . really weak tea."
"It's probably diluted," Bella said.
"Like, watered down? Why?"
"To reduce sugar intake. A lot of parents do it."
That made sense. Alice's diet did include a lot of fructose.
"I wish someone had warned me. I'd have gone with milk.
Bella laughed silently and sipped her watery apple juice.
"Hassum tuptapes!" Alice declared, and they all dutifully nibbled at their miniature cupcakes. Which made the apple juice taste even worse. Edward wanted to apologize for the menu, but Alice was happy and he didn't want to suggest that there was anything to complain about. Anyway, Carlisle and Bella were being good sports about it, so he left it alone.
"Oh, I brought you a gift," Bella said, setting down her teacup. She fetched the silver bag from where it had been abandoned on the couch and passed it to Alice.
"A-diss?"
"It's a present to celebrate your adoption."
"Dawshun?"
"Open it up," Edward told her.
She tossed aside the tissue paper and peered inside the bag. She reached in and pulled out a pink plastic camera. "A-diss?"
"It's a camera!" Carlisle said with delight. He showed her how to turn it on and take pictures, and Alice responded enthusiastically.
"Hassum pitchooz!"
"That's so cool!" Edward said. "You can take pictures of anything you want!"
"Like you, right now," Bella told Edward, smirking. "Everyone should see how great you look."
"Likewise." He grinned back at her.
"There's more," Bella said, gesturing to the bag again. Alice was too invested in her camera to care what else was in there, so Edward took the bag and reached inside. He pulled out a black adult-sized T-shirt, and when he unfolded it he saw that it had white lettering declaring, "I'm the boss." He flashed Bella a crooked grin and reached in for the last item inside. This one turned out to be a black child's shirt that read, "lol ok."
He snickered. "Yeah, that's about right."
Her eyes shone.
"Alice, look," he told her, holding up her shirt. "Play clothes!"
"Pay chose?"
"Yep. Now we'll definitely have something to wear to daycare."
"Um. No. Habba pity jwess."
And, well, that was a battle he could fight later. For now, he raised his teacup to Bella in gratitude.
The camera was far more important to Alice than her cupcake, so they abandoned their tea for a photo shoot. Alice took pictures of them individually and in groups, and then Carlisle gathered everyone together and snapped a selfie on his phone. They all looked ridiculous, but they were all having a good time and Alice was thrilled. Edward couldn't begrudge her that, no matter how silly he looked.
Bella gave them an hour before she regretfully stood up.
"Alice, thank you for inviting me to your party. It was really fun."
"Ose doh-ween?"
"I have to get home."
"A-home? See Chawie?"
"Yep. I'm going to go see Charlie and Billy."
Alice got up and hurried over to Bella, hugging her legs and smearing makeup on her pants in the process. Bella reached down to pat her back and Edward rose to walk Bella out.
"Thanks for staying," he said as he closed the door behind them. "That was really fun for her."
"It was fun for me too. I don't get to do that kind of thing very often."
"Go to children's tea parties?"
"Go to anything, really. I don't get out of the house much."
"Why not?"
She sighed as they walked down the ramp. "I get up in the morning and I make breakfast for the three of us. Then I make lunch for the three of us. I go to work; I come home and help Charlie with his physical therapy. I make dinner, I do the dishes, I do a load of laundry, I help them get bathed . . . it all just takes time. A lot of time. I'm lucky if I'm in bed before midnight, and then it's up at six the next day to do it all over again."
"They don't help you with any of it?"
"There's not a lot they can do. The house isn't built for wheelchair access. They can barely even turn around in the kitchen, and the washing machine is upstairs."
"So you end up doing it all? That sounds exhausting."
She nodded. They reached her truck and she leaned her shoulder against it. "Every other Saturday night, Jacob and Grace fill in for me so I can fit in a book club and maybe occasionally have a really bad date. And on Sundays I come here."
"For dinner at Carlisle's."
She nodded. "Ted used to host it too. They'd trade off. That's why they put in ramps at both of the houses."
"So it's my turn this weekend?"
"I'm sure Carlisle won't expect you to. It looks like you're starting to get things packed up."
He frowned. He hadn't packed a damn thing—but then he realized what she must have seen. "Oh, the office. Uh . . . yeah, actually, I'm moving in some furniture tomorrow. Alice and I are going to stay while I work on a project."
She looked intrigued. "You're staying here? In this town you hate? On purpose?"
"I know," he said, shaking his head. "Forks is like an actual black hole. It sucks you in and never lets you go."
"Your cute little roadster isn't a match for Forks' gravitational pull huh?"
He scowled. "Apparently it is, just not with me in it."
"What do you mean?"
"My mom got mad at me and took my car."
Bella looked way too pleased with this information. " She took it? Like, she grounded you from driving your car?"
"She didn't ground me, she stole it. She took it back to Seattle with her."
"Is she bringing it back?"
"That seems unlikely."
"Whoa. Are you getting the police involved or anything?"
He shook his head.
"Seriously? She takes your car and you just shrug it off."
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against her truck. "The thing about my mom is that she loves drama. And no shade; I like to stir shit up every now and then too. But I'm sure she really wants me to make a fuss over this, and I'm not going to. I'm really mad at her."
"So you're just . . . giving up your car."
"I've been driving Dad's Volvo anyway," he said with a shrug. "It has all the elegance of a big toe, but it's useful."
"What happens when she starts collecting parking tickets?"
"She won't. She doesn't even like to drive. I bet it just sits in her garage."
"Until she's disappointed with your lack of reaction and uses tickets to provoke you."
He grunted. "I guess I should look into transferring the registration or something."
She huffed out a laugh and shook her head. "I guess you should."
"What? You don't think that's the right move?"
"I just . . . can't fathom a world where someone steals your car and it means nothing to you."
"It means something. It means she's mad at me."
"But tens of thousands of dollars worth of machinery can drive away and you're fine with it."
Money again. Edward could see where she was coming from. She was driving an ancient truck, and he suspected that she and Charlie probably had medical expenses sucking their accounts dry. It was uncomfortable, though. Edward had never had to struggle for money, and it felt like a truly horrible way to have to live your life. But it was also super awkward to talk about.
"We live very different lives," Bella said, turning away. She pulled open the door to the truck and hoisted herself inside. "Thanks again for letting me come to your tea party. It was really fun."
"Thanks for coming by. Seriously, it means a lot to me."
She gave him a wave and a smile and closed the door to her truck.
Edward headed back inside as she drove away. Carlisle and Alice were snuggled together in the rocking chair, flipping through the pictures on Alice's camera. Carlisle had removed her crown and taken her hair out of the pigtails. She looked like she was starting to get sleepy, and Edward wasn't sure whether he wanted to bother with the bath and bedtime routine or just let her fall asleep on Carlisle's lap. He probably would have skipped the washing up if it hadn't been for the makeup all over her face.
"Hey, kiddo. You want to take a bath?"
She perked up. "Uh-huh. Hassum toys?"
"You bet. I'll start filling the tub while you get the toys."
Alice scrambled off of Carlisle's lap and ran to the bathroom with Edward trailing behind her. Carlisle joined them and helped Alice get undressed and into the bathtub. Edward took over and gave her face a good scrubbing, which she didn't appreciate at all, but once that was done she settled happily in for some playtime in the water.
"So Bella apologized?" Carlisle asked.
"Yeah." Edward glanced at him and back to Alice again. "Did you put her up to it?"
"No, but we talked about it. I knew she wanted to."
He nodded.
"Are things okay between the two of you?"
"Sure, no hard feelings. We're fine."
"Good. Because I need you to do something for me."
Edward gave him a curious look and Carlisle gestured to the door of the master bedroom. "May I?"
"Go ahead."
Carlisle stepped into the bedroom and moved to one of the file cabinets. He pulled out a file folder and brought it back to the bathroom counter.
"Ted and I were working on something for Charlie and Billy. We wanted to have an addition built onto Charlie's home. Sort of a mother-in-law apartment."
"This is great." Edward flipped through the paperwork and saw the plan for two bedrooms, an accessible bathroom, low counters in the kitchens, an open floor plan. But the file contained more than just plans for construction. There were information sheets on motorized wheelchairs and scooters, and another one listed specs on an adapted van. "Really great. But what do you need from me?"
"Charlie won't accept it. We tried to bring it up with him once and he refused to even discuss it."
"And you want me to try to convince him?"
"No. I want you to convince Bella to tell him that she needs it."
Edward lowered the toilet seat and sat down on it. "Bella does need it. She was just telling me how she's running herself ragged trying to take care of Charlie and Billy."
"I know. She's exhausted. And Charlie and Billy both feel completely useless. It's demoralizing for everyone."
"But Charlie won't accept help?"
"Not for himself. But if Bella asks him to do it, I think he will."
Edward shook his head, unable to understand how someone could reject something they clearly needed so badly. The price tag wasn't even that large; a few hundred thousand. "Do they really not understand what kind of money Dad had? And that he could get tax write-offs for this stuff?"
"It doesn't matter. Accepting a gift of this magnitude is really hard."
"But you think Charlie would do it for Bella's sake?"
He smiled. "What wouldn't a parent do for his child?"
Edward smirked and glanced in the mirror. He hadn't washed his face yet, so he still wore evidence of how easy it was to do something for Alice that he wouldn't normally have done. "Point taken."
"Do you think you can persuade Bella?"
Edward looked down at the file and nodded. He was starting to figure out her hot buttons. If he couldn't talk her around, maybe he could goad her into it. "I'll see what I can do. Give me some time. I may need to lay some groundwork."
"Do what you need to do. Just remember that they're all struggling."
"Mm-hm." He folded his arms across his chest and stared into the middle distance, plotting his approach.
A distressed whimper from Alice drew his attention back to her. She was scooting to one side of the bathtub, trying to avoid a large brown log that was drifting toward her.
Edward's jaw dropped. "Did you poop in the tub?"
"Mess," she said, pressing herself into the corner of the tub. "Hope."
Edward tossed a towel onto the floor and lifted her out of the tub, rescuing her from the bathtub feces. But then he had to figure out what to do about it. He couldn't just let the water out and leave a big old shit sitting there by the drain. The thought of mashing it down crossed his mind, and he had to stifle a gag.
He'd have to scoop it out. With . . . something. He looked around but didn't see anything useful. Why hadn't he thought to keep a poop net on hand in case he suddenly ended up with a kid and she pooped in the bathtub?
"Stay here," he said to Alice, and headed to the kitchen. He found a plastic cup in a cabinet, and when he turned around, Alice was tearing out of the bathroom, naked and giggling, as Carlisle chased after her with a towel. He snickered and shook his head, leaving Carlisle to deal with the baby streaker while he faced down the turd.
He gagged as he dipped the cup into the befouled water and scooped out the poop. He dumped it into the toilet and flushed, and then he looked at the cup. Because what was he supposed to do with it now? Could he really just wash it and put it back in the cabinet? And then later take it out and let it touch his mouth? No. It wasn't happening. He tossed it in the trash and then went searching in the cabinet for a cleanser that he could use to scrub the bathtub and Alice's toys.
