10 Performances
"A-seen a-waydies! A-seen a-waydies! A-seen a-waydies!"
"Alice, come on. Come eat your breakfast."
Alice ignored him, and continued to sing into a plastic microphone that made her voice reverberate in a manner that she clearly enjoyed. "A-seen a-waydies! A-seen a-waydies!"
"I made you scrambled eggs," he said, trying to tempt her by making it sound like a reward. "And apple juice. Come eat."
"A-yite it—a-weeeen it! A-yite it—a-weeeen it!"
Edward stopped fussing with the breakfast and looked up to see Alice doing some sort of prancing, handwaving, booty-wiggling dance to her song and he grinned. He was pretty sure she was the cutest kid ever to have been born.
But they had a story time to get to in a couple of hours, so he grabbed a bib and took it to her, tying it around her neck without giving her a chance to say no. He scooped her up and plopped her down in her high chair, buckling her into place.
"A-yite it—a weeeen it!"
"Eat while you sing," he told her. "We've got places to go."
"Iss munnay?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Oh motace?"
He sighed and shook his head, sitting down across from her with his own breakfast.
To his relief, she actually did eat. She poked at the eggs with her spoon for a minute, but when she couldn't quite get them scooped up, she picked pieces up with her fingers and arranged them carefully on her spoon before raising it to her mouth. It was slow going, but at least it was happening.
Edward finished long before she did and cleaned the kitchen while he waited. Then he picked up the toys she'd scattered around the living room and took them to her toy box in the bedroom. Her pendy puss he kept out because there was no real point in putting it away. She dragged that thing around with her all the time. The best he could do was try to keep its contents on the inside of it more than half the time. He might have given up on that except that he liked to kick his shoes off when he was at home, and after stepping on Alice's plastic dinosaurs once or twice, he had become wary of landmines. That was probably good. His aversion to pain kept him from devolving into a complete slob.
His phone buzzed as he was finishing with the purse, and he glanced at the screen. There was a text from Esme with a flight number and an arrival time in Seattle that afternoon. After it was an editorial: Fuck those guys. Hope you were serious because I'm at the airport.
He smiled and replied, I'll book the car service.
Between the six-hour flight and the four-hour drive, it would be well into the evening before Esme would arrive. Edward was expecting the new desks to be delivered sometime that afternoon, and he hoped he could have the office entirely set up before she got there. Not that he expected her to make the trek out from Olympia to use it very often, but there would probably be times when they'd want to work in the same room, especially early on, and he wanted it to be a welcoming space for everyone. Maybe it was the novelty of collaborating on a project when most of his work was solitary, or maybe it was his eagerness to tackle the Christopher book, or maybe it was that he had a couple of kick-ass partners that he was really excited to be working with, but he was feeling a rising bubble of excitement every time he thought about the project.
Who knew he could be so eager to take on another graphic novel?
He was picking scrambled eggs out of Alice's hair—and how the hell did she get them in there in the first place?—when the doorbell rang.
"Owizzit?" Alice asked, leaning to the side in her high chair to try to see the door.
Edward half expected it to be a neighbor dropping off a casserole, so he was a little surprised to look through the window and see a familiar BMW parked in front of the house. He grinned when he saw the face on the camera and swung the door open.
"Victoria Maxwell, get that gorgeous ass in here." He tugged her into the house and wrapped her up in a warm hug.
"So you're still alive." Her tone was arch, but she hugged him back.
"Did you think I wouldn't be?"
"I thought surely if you had ignored my podcast for another day, you must either be dead or comatose."
"Owizzit?" Alice called.
"Aw, Tori, I'm sorry. I really did try to listen. I just couldn't get any time to myself yesterday."
"Uh-huh." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box. Edward took it when she offered it and examined the images on the side. "A bluetooth speaker?"
"Waterproof," she told him. "So you can listen in the shower. Now you'll have no excuse."
"Right," he muttered, shuddering at the idea of leaving Alice unattended for a whole hour while he lingered over a podcast in the shower.
"What's going on here?" Tori asked, taking one of his hands and examining the purple nail polish.
He grinned. "Alice and I got manicures. She picked the color for me."
"That's adorable," she said, though her tone wasn't as emphatic as it could have been. Edward could forgive that. It had taken him a few days to appreciate Alice. He could give Tori some time.
"Owizzit?" Alice called again, beginning to sound impatient.
"You want to come meet the kid?" Without waiting for a response, he steered her into the kitchen and resumed cleaning Alice's breakfast mess. "Alice, this is my friend Tori."
"Hi!" Alice said, waving one eggy hand. "Diss Moey Awiss Masen! Habba yawa! So pity!"
Tori shot a questioning look at Edward and he shrugged. "I don't even know. I understand maybe half of what she says." He lifted Alice down from her high chair and moved to wash the dishcloth in the sink. "Are you ready to get dressed, kiddo? We need to get to the library."
She gasped. "Doh-a yiboey? Iss wunzay?" Without waiting for a response, she took off down the hallway, leaving Edward to follow after her. He did, hooking Tori around the waist and pulling her along with him to her bedroom.
Alice was squatting in front of the bookcase by her bed, tugging picture books off of the bottom shelf.
"Hey—what are you doing? You're making a mess."
"Doh-a yiboey!"
Edward crouched down and examined the books. There were about a dozen of them, all with labels from the North Olympic Library System. "Oh, I getcha. You have some books to return."
"Yep!" Alice had taken a canvas bag from the shelf and was now awkwardly maneuvering a book inside.
"You want help with that?"
"No, I do it."
Which would be fine, but it was going to take her forever to get a dozen books in there. Coordination wasn't her strong suit.
"We should get you dressed, though. You want to pick out something to wear?"
"Oh, yes!" She forgot her books and ran over to the closet. "Up!"
Edward picked her up and let her pick out a blue off-the-shoulder gown.
"Is your library a lot fancier than mine?" Tori asked, raising an eyebrow at Alice's choice.
"No, but Alice is." He grinned at her. "Kid's already got champagne taste."
"Good for you," Tori told her. "You make sure he knows what you're worth."
"Toey tummeen?"
"You want to come with us?" Edward asked Tori, prompted by Alice's question. "Alice goes to story time every Wednesday."
"Ooh, scintillating. How could I say no?"
Edward grinned at her, helping Alice arrange her arms in the dress. "Honestly? It might be the most exciting thing happening around here today."
"I'd buy that. Not much of a town, is it?"
Edward felt an irrational compulsion to defend the place. Which was ridiculous, because she was saying what he'd been thinking all along. Still, she didn't know Carlisle, the Blacks, the Clearwaters, and all the other people who had made his father love this place.
"I know," he said with a laugh, and he felt disloyal. "I'd comment on the lack of nightlife, but that would imply that there's any other kind of life."
"So get out of here. Come home."
"Sum tice," Alice ordered.
Edward opened the drawer for her and let her select a pair of tights. "This won't last forever. I'm going to have to be here to manage things for a little while, but I'll be back before you know it."
She crossed her arms and leaned against the door jamb. "I know it, and you're not back. I miss you."
He chuckled and shook his head. "We go weeks without seeing each other. Months, sometimes. What makes this different?"
"Knowing you're not there," she said with a pout. "At least when you're in Olympia I know you'll be nearby when I need you. But you're all the way up here ignoring me, and I don't like it."
"Hey, c'mon. I'm not ignoring you." He'd have hugged her if his hands hadn't been busy gathering the fabric of Alice's tights. "I've just got a lot going on right now. I need some time to figure out the new routine."
"I'm worried that I won't fit into it."
"Of course you will. You're my best friend."
She smiled, but it was forced. Edward figured the only thing he could do was show her, but that meant he really had to listen to that damn podcast. Plus, he hadn't forgotten that Bella had checked out a parenting book for him on his phone, and that was information that he really wanted to have. And it had been ages since he'd given any time to CNN. He couldn't come up with a relevant political cartoon right now if his career depended on it. There were just too many things vying for the very little time that he had available. He wasn't doing such a good job at finding his new routine.
"I'll figure it out," he said again, but this time it was himself he was trying to convince.
Alice went for the full kit. She wanted her lace gloves, her sparkly shoes, and this time she very eagerly requested that one of her new tiaras be added to the outfit. Edward combed her hair and settled the little crown in place, grinning at her delighted response. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, Edward helped her load her books into her bag.
"You ready to go?" he asked her.
"Um. Hammye pendy puss!" She dropped her bag of books and darted out to the living room to where she had last played with her purse. Edward grabbed her book bag and followed after her.
"Habba mocha-fone!" she was saying when he caught up with her. She was dragging her purse behind her as she headed for the table, seeking her microphone.
Tori gasped when she saw what was happening and darted forward. She snatched the purse out of Alice's hands and cradled it in her arms, staring down at it with horror.
"Edward! You can't let her play with a bag like this!"
"No!" Alice ran to Tori's legs and started trying to climb her pants. "Mine! Habbit!"
"Hey, come on," Edward said. "Give her the purse. She loves that thing."
"This is a limited edition bag! You can't even get these anymore! It's not a toy!"
The volume and pitch of Alice's protests were quickly rising, and Edward gently but firmly extracted the purse from Tori's hands.
"This one is. It belongs to Alice." He handed it back to her and she hurried away with it, crawling under the dining room table as though to hide her purse from potential thieves.
"Edward!"
"Nobody's going to want that bag. Look at it. It's scuffed all to hell."
"It could be repaired . . ."
"It's beyond saving. Just let the kid have it."
She turned to glare at him. "That's thousands of dollars right there, and you gave it to a child."
"So? You were the one who said she ought to know what she's worth."
She huffed and shook her head. "Unbelievable."
"Come on, Alice," Edward said, moving to retrieve her microphone from the table. "Let's put this in your bag and then go get in the car."
"Mine," she said, hugging her bag to her chest.
"Yep, it's yours. I won't let anyone take it."
"Oh, sure, make me the bad guy," Tori muttered.
Edward flashed her a grin. "If the Manolos fit . . ."
Alice allowed herself to be coaxed out from under the table and into the car. Tori gave the Volvo a skeptical once-over when she saw it, but she decided not to give voice to whatever snide remark she was obviously thinking.
"Yeah, yeah," Edward grumbled. "It's got a DVD player for the kid. Function over form."
She smirked. "You still hate it, though, don't you?"
"God, yes. This thing is vile."
She laughed.
Edward drove them to the library and helped Alice out of the car. She snatched up her pendy puss and ran for the door, leaving Edward and Tori behind while Edward collected the book and diaper bags.
"Mon! Mon, Uh-wud! See Boa!"
"See what?"
"Mon! Habba so-wee tine!"
Edward caught up to her at the door and opened it for her, and she darted inside. "Boa! A-heo!"
Edward finally remembered where he'd heard Alice say "Boa" before about the same time that Bella stepped around the front desk. She was looking sleek and professional in a pair of slim slacks and a fitted blouse, and she smiled brightly as she leaned down to intercept Alice. She scooped her up and gave her a cuddle.
"You're here! I'm so glad you made it!"
"A-made it!"
"Right," Edward said, strolling over to them. "Librarian. It probably should have occurred to me that you worked here."
She arched an eyebrow. "Not so quick on the uptake, huh?"
"I blame the kid. Lack of sleep, you know?"
Bella's eyes shifted to Tori, and Edward remembered his manners. "Bella, this is my friend Tori."
"Nice to meet you," Bella said, offering her hand. Tori took it, and then Bella gestured toward a small seating area and the stacks beyond. "You're a little early for story time, but make yourselves at home."
"Alice, show me where to return the books," Edward prompted.
"I do it!" She wriggled out of Bella's arms and hurried to trade her purse for the book bag. It was a little heavy for her, but she dragged it to a slot in the side of the Circulation desk and began transferring the books, one by one, into the slot.
"Edward," Tori said, "if we have a few minutes, I think I'll run over to that coffee shop across the street."
"Oh, don't do that," Bella said with a little shudder. "They have the worst coffee. Come here." She beckoned them into a little office behind the desk, where she had a cappuccino machine and several flavored syrups set up in a tiny kitchenette.
Tori's face lit up. "Now we're talking!"
"There are mugs and sweeteners in that cabinet," Bella said. "And there's milk and creamer in the mini fridge over there. Help yourself to whatever you like."
"Bella's my new best friend," Tori told Edward with a teasing smile before moving to take advantage of the invitation.
Alice finished returning her books and came to join them. "A-dooeen?"
"We're making some coffee," Edward told her.
"Hassum?"
He laughed. "Kid I'm starting to think you might be a slow learner."
"How about some milk?" Bella offered.
"Good idea. I might even have her cup in here . . ." Edward fished in the diaper bag until he found a sippy cup and handed it to Bella.
Several minutes later, Tori had a latte in hand, Edward had knocked back an espresso, and Alice had abandoned her milk in favor of the low shelves full of picture books.
"A-diss?" Alice held up a book and Edward glanced at it on the way to a nearby seating area. "That's the Berenstain Bears. Moving Day . . . you should get that one."
She put it in her bag and then wandered to another shelf and pulled out a book. "A-diss?"
Edward had to stand up again and move toward her to see it. "Strega Nona. You want that one?"
"Uh-huh." A moment later she was pulling out another book. "A-diss?"
Edward had started back toward his seat, but he figured he was going to have to stay close to answer her questions. "The Mitten."
"Mitten?"
"Yep. You want to get it?"
"Uh-huh." This time she didn't even bother putting it in a bag. She dumped her bag and the book into a pile and wandered to another shelf. "A-diss?"
"Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late. You should absolutely get that one."
She dropped it in the pile. "A-diss?"
"Amelia Bedelia Goes Camping."
"Tampeen?" She suddenly gasped. "Yummoojains!" She dropped the book she was holding and took off running to another section of the library. Edward followed her until she stopped at a shelf and started pulling out slim graphic novels.
"What's this?" he asked her. She dropped several of the books on the floor and sat down among them, so Edward sat too. "Lumberjanes?" he asked, picking up one of the books. It seemed to be about a group of girls at a summer camp, which was nice, but, "Why are there dinosaurs at summer camp?"
"Dysoze! Waaahhh!" Alice picked up another of the books and Edward examined the cover.
"Bigfoot?"
"Yep."
"This seems like a very dramatic summer camp."
"Uh-huh. A-maddit."
"I'm in. Let's get some of these." He specifically hunted up the first volume and made sure it was in the stack. He needed to explore this from the beginning. "Hey, let's see if they have Chimerae." He stood and scanned the shelves for Neil's name, grinning when he located the thick volume that he had poured so much time and anxiety into. "How about this one?"
Alice glanced at the cover and then shook her head, her attention back on her Lumberjanes books. "Um. No."
"Aw, come on. I made this one."
"No. Hassum Yummoojains."
"But it has nice pictures. See?"
She didn't even glance at it. She just gathered up her books and started carrying them back to her bag.
"Fine. It's too violent for you anyway." But he didn't even try to pretend that her rejection didn't sting. Sure, she hadn't exactly developed any literary taste yet, but he'd drawn some damn pretty pictures for that book. Wasn't she supposed to like pretty pictures? Even if maybe the sleek, elegant creatures also had an abundance of sinister teeth and claws?
Yeah, okay, maybe that book could wait until she was older.
He was following her back to the picture books when another copy of his graphic novel caught his eye from the top of a freestanding pillar. It was placed on a glass block and raised above the other books around it, most of which were also pretty familiar to Edward. There was his Hall of Dreadful Presidents collection, both thin volumes of his Over the Hill comic strip, a compilation of cartoons from the New Yorker that he knew featured at least a half a dozen of his own works, and there was even a little booklet of speeches that he had written for various political candidates. Where they'd dug up that relic he would never know. Which was entirely untrue because obviously his dad had donated that to the library. Who else would have bothered with it?
But in addition to his own books, there were books about him. Art Imitates Life was one that he'd enjoyed quite a lot. It was an analysis of nonfiction graphic storytelling that had devoted a chapter to Dreadful Presidents. Edward had loved the discussion of his work, partly because the writer had so many good things to say about it, but also because she had been so attentive to the tiny nuanced details that he had slipped into the art. She'd given his work a very close reading. There was one book on the shelf by a journalist that regularly panned his cartoons, and he tried to pretend not to mind. There would always be critics, right? For the most part, the display was actually pretty kind to him.
"Oh my god," he muttered. "Lauren was right?"
"What's that?" Tori asked, rising to join him.
"The manicurist," he said, feeling the spread of his smug grin. "She said Bella built a shrine to me." He was deliberately speaking loud enough for Bella to hear, and he looked at her now. "And she did!"
" 'Shrine' is certainly a self-congratulatory word," Bella said. If Edward had expected her to get ruffled—and he had—he would have been disappointed—and he was. "In the business we call it a display."
"About me," he pressed.
"Yes. We create displays about subjects of local interest. You may have noticed that people around here are interested in you." She went back to typing something on her computer as though Edward hadn't just caught her in her embarrassing fixation.
"Bella . . ." He strolled over to her, beaming with petty glee. "You don't have to front. Lauren told me all about how you're obsessed with me."
A laugh burst out of her mouth before she managed to stifle it and press her lips together. "Lauren did, huh? She always was very perceptive."
Edward was starting to feel like the joke was being turned back around on him, and he very much didn't want that happening. "So it's true? You admit to the alleged obsession?"
She finally looked him full in the eye and gave him a mild smile. "I admit it. I'm your biggest fan. But I'm afraid I can't take credit for the display." She gestured behind him to where a plump teenage girl was hovering a little too eagerly behind a shelving cart.
"I made it!" she blurted out as soon as Edward looked her way. "I'm Ava!"
And, well, what was he going to do, disappoint a kid? Someone who was clearly a fan? He had zero qualms about giving Bella shit, but this eager girl deserved more from him. So he flipped the switch, put on his earnest face, and smiled at her.
"You set this up?" He gestured to the display.
She nodded and the two of them started making their way toward it. "Yeah. I searched the catalog for your name and found everything that we had that you wrote or that anybody wrote about you. I put that one at the top because it's your best one." She pointed to the copy of Chimerae.
Edward wanted to argue that point, but he didn't. Instead he teased her a little. "Have you even read any of the other ones?"
Her cheeks colored. "No. But that one was really good,and it sold the most copies."
"All right, that's fair." It wasn't. That was not his best work.
"Bella said I should put Hall of Dreadful Presidents on top," she added.
Yes. That was his best work. "But you disagreed?"
"Chimerae is the best book I've ever read." She launched into a description of her favorite parts, which, of course, were all plot based. He wasn't disputing that Neil was a fucking genius, he was only disputing that the book was his own. The things that people responded to weren't the things that Edward had contributed. They loved the story, and that was all Neil. Hell, the book was shelved under Neil's last name. Edward was a footnote.
"My mom said I could get a tattoo of the bestial butterfly when I turn seventeen."
That snapped him back to attention. That part, at least, he had contributed. She loved an image enough to want it permanently etched on her body. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I want it kind of like this one . . ." She took the book and flipped to a page that she had obviously lingered over. "Only I want it more upright and facing toward the front, and with an expression like this . . ." She turned to another page and pointed.
"Hang on." Edward moved to where he had left his diaper bag. Victoria was sitting next to it again, and she didn't look super pleased. He should be paying her more attention. And he would, in just a minute. First, he plucked a sketch book out of the bag. "How big?"
"About like this." She circled her fingers into a three- or four- inch ring over her bicep.
He roughed out the butterfly in the position that Ava had described. "Is this what you're after?"
"Yeah . . . only . . . could it have, like, an angrier tail?"
Her choice of words was sort of comical, but Edward understood what she meant. He redid the tail and she smiled widely. "Yes! Like that!"
"I'll clean this up and bring it to you next week."
She looked beyond thrilled. "Wow, really? That's so nice!"
He winked at her and she floated away with her book cart.
"That's really sweet of you," Bella told him.
He sighed and returned to her desk. "So does this mean you're not obsessed with me?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
"No?" He leaned in, intrigued.
"How closely did you look at that display?"
"Why? What did I miss?" He returned to the display and scanned all the books again, searching for a hidden token of her fascination. He nearly gave up when his gaze skimmed across the name of the Art Imitates Life author.
Isabella Swan.
"No way." He snatched up the book and took it back to her. "You wrote this?"
She smiled.
"Okay." He dropped the book on the counter. "How much did Dad pay you?"
She chuckled and shook her head. "I wrote most of that before I met him, actually. My master's thesis was essentially the first three chapters: you, Alison Bechdel, and John Lewis. My advisor really liked it, though, and she helped me expand it and get it published. She's using it as a textbook in one of her classes right now."
Edward stared at the book for a long moment. "Dad didn't put you up to it?"
"Nope."
"You said really nice things about me in this book."
"I did."
He smirked. "You like me."
"I thought I did." She shrugged. "You know what they say. Never meet your heroes."
He let his jaw drop open. "We were getting along so nicely and you had to go and say that."
She laughed and started tapping at her keyboard again. "Someone's got to keep your ego in check."
"Aha! Lauren was right after all! You are just playing hard to get!"
She arched an eyebrow. "Honey, I'm not playing. I am hard to get."
A string of recent dates that she'd abandoned confirmed the truth of that statement, so he allowed it to stand unchallenged. "Come on, I'm not so bad."
"No," she agreed. "You're not what I expected, but you're not so bad."
"What did you expect?"
She shrugged, and she finally looked the slightest bit nonplussed. "I spent a lot of time studying your work, you know. I sort of created this image of a serious, analytical, intellectual. And then, with the way your dad talked about you, I figured you were thoughtful, charming, and basically perfect. And I kind of clung to that. After every horrible date I would tell myself that there were still Juniors in the world, and someday I would meet mine and get that happily-ever-after that I've read so much about."
"I don't understand," he said, deliberately playing dumb. "Are you saying I'm not intellectual and charming and thoughtful? Because I have a doctorate in political science and a smile that has literally won awards. I'm all of those things."
"Undoubtedly. My image of you didn't leave much room for being human, though. Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be an actual person instead of a character from a novel."
Not flattering. No. He wanted her to say the kinds of things about him that she'd said in her book. "But, look, I'm still the guy who wrote Dreadful Presidents. I earned all that praise."
"You did."
"So can you go back to being obsessed with me?"
She laughed. "How about we just be friends?"
He huffed. "I like this better the way Lauren tells it."
Bella rolled her eyes.
Tori appeared at Edward's side and handed her empty mug back to Bella.
"You don't like Lauren, do you?"
"What? No, she's fine." But her protest was too innocent and they all knew it.
"Tell the truth."
"You know how it is," Bella said, addressing Tori. "We've been taught since we were kids that we're supposed to compete with other women, especially where men are involved. Lauren just really internalized that message."
"She's trying to beef with you?"
"Has been for years." Bella shook her head but then frowned. "Have we met?"
Tori shook her head. "I don't think so."
"You look familiar."
Tori exchanged glances with Edward. "You ever watch the Olympics?"
"Oh!" Bella said. "Victoria Maxwell! I saw the documentary about the abusive practices in competitive figure skating."
"Did you?" She leaned in, suddenly very interested. "What did you think?"
"Horrifying. And I feel like I should have noticed without the help of the film, because how could that not be true?"
"It's the open secret of the Olympics."
Bella glanced at the clock and stood, sliding open a drawer in the desk. "I guess I bought into the idea that it's the kids pushing themselves that hard. I never think about the pressure that they get from coaches and parents." She took out a stack of multicolored plastic circles about the size of dinner plates.
"That's the image they're selling," Tori agreed.
Bella rounded the desk and Edward and Tori trailed after her as she started pushing furniture back and making an open space on the floor.
Alice had been sitting on the floor and happily flipping through her books, but she jumped up now.
"A-hope you!"
"Sure, you can help." Bella handed her the circles. "You want to put those out?"
"Oh, yes!" She started laying the circles out on the floor in random places, and Bella followed after her, toeing them into a wide circle.
"Am I remembering right that you got injured?" Bella asked Tori as she worked.
"Yeah, during my first competition in Vancouver. I skated over a flower petal that hadn't been cleaned off the ice and fell. Shattered my knee and ended my skating career."
Bella shook her head in sympathy. "That's awful. Thank you, Alice! You did such a good job!"
There were maybe a dozen or so circles on the floor now, and Ava appeared with a stack of plastic chairs that they started setting around the outside of the circle.
"Habba peent wun!" Alice said, hurrying to stand on a pink circle.
"Is this where we do the story time?" Edward asked. He collected the books from where Alice had dumped them and worked them into her book bag.
"Uh-wud heo." Alice ran to him and tugged his hand, leading him to a plastic chair behind her circle.
"Right here? Cool. Tori, come sit with me."
"No." Alice intercepted Tori and pushed at her legs until Tori allowed herself to be edged out of the circle and back to one of the armchairs that Bella had moved away.
Edward snickered. Alice must still be holding a grudge over her purse. "No, Alice, Tori's going to sit by me." He stood and took Tori's hand, guiding her back to the circle of chairs.
"My peent wun!" Alice cried, and ran back to her plastic circle.
Edward wasn't sure if she was protecting her space from Tori or from the pair of kids that had just come in the front door. The kids ran to claim their own circles, and the woman who had followed them in waved to Edward and exchanged a few pleasantries. She looked familiar, and Edward wondered if he'd seen her at the pool . . . or if she'd dropped off food for him . . . or if maybe she was one of the entrepreneurs he'd met yesterday? No. Pool. He was pretty sure he'd seen her chest in spandex, and . . . not bad.
He leaned back in his chair and draped an arm around Tori's shoulders as a few more families filed in. The kids played and giggled for a few minutes, but then Bella settled herself down in the circle and all the kids gathered around her. She spent a couple of minutes greeting them all by name and telling them about the book she was about to read. A few minutes more passed while they talked about the ocean and what kind of animals might be found inside. She had the kids naming aquatic creatures and squeezing their cheeks to make fish faces until they were all fully focused on her. Then she opened her book and began reading, taking plenty of time to show the illustrations to all of the children.
"They love her," Tori whispered.
"I might, too."
Her eyebrows raised in surprise.
"She wrote a really nice book about me."
"I like how you're claiming the entire book is about you now."
"Mine's the longest chapter."
"Did you count the pages?"
"Obviously."
She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Uh-wud, diss!" Alice exclaimed, wriggling on her little plastic circle. "Iss-a moomaid!"
"Yes, that's right," he agreed quietly. "Shhh, we don't want to interrupt story time.."
Alice turned back to the book, and Bella's glance told Edward that he'd handled the situation correctly. He found that oddly gratifying. But he also found it gratifying every time Alice turned to him and pointed to the book to share her excitement over the story. Edward would nod and give her shoulder a squeeze to show her that they were in it together. When Bella closed the book, Alice scrambled onto his lap.
"Habba pitchoo!" she said eagerly. "A-phone! Habbit!"
"You want the mermaid picture?" He shifted so he could pull his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled until he found the one she wanted.
"Yes!" Alice snatched the phone out of his hands and wriggled off of his lap. "Boa! See it! I'n-a moomaid!"
"Look at that!" Bella said. She was still in her spot on the floor, and several kids were crowding around to look at the book she had just read.
"Yite Hooey-on!"
"Yes, just like Julián in the story!"
Alice grinned her scrunch-nosed grin and hugged the phone to her chest.
"Hey," Edward said, "where'd your tiara go?"
Alice put a hand on her head and, feeling the absence of her crown, gasped.
"It's over there," Tori said, gesturing to one of the shelves of picture books. "It fell off while she was looking for books."
Alice hurried to the spot Tori had indicated and snatched up her tiara. "Iss heo!" she announced. "Habbit!"
"Good job. Come here and let me help you put it back on."
Which he did, but it fell off again as soon as she leaned over to pick up her books.
"I got this," Tori said. She fished around in her purse until she found a couple of rubber bands. "Come here, Alice. Let's fix your hair so your tiara will stay on."
Alice hugged her tiara and regarded Tori with a suspicious scowl.
"Tori's really good at this," Edward reassured her. "If anyone knows how to keep a tiara in place, it's a retired figure skater."
"Mine."
"Get over here," Edward said. "I promise, no one's going to steal your crown."
Alice reluctantly walked over to Edward, and he turned her so her back was to Tori. He took the tiara and handed it over, and Tori settled in onto Alice's head.
"Watch this trick." She divided some of Alice's fine locks and started braiding them around the metal sides. "You have to do your hair around your head accessories. And it helps to use so much hairspray that your hair could double as a helmet.
"That's amazing," Edward told her. "Let me try the other side." He divided Alice's hair as he'd seen Tori do, and then with a couple of little tips from her, he managed a passable braid. Tori banded the two braids together and let some little wispy curls hang free.
"You want to see it?" Tori asked Alice.
"Yes!"
"Let's go to the bathroom and I'll show you in the mirror."
Alice allowed herself to be led away, but she looked back. "Uh-wud, mon! See it!"
"I'm not allowed in the ladies' room," he told her. "I'll wait here."
For a moment he thought she would refuse to go with Tori, but the draw of her pretty new hairstyle won out.
Bella and Ava were stacking the chairs used for story time, so Edward moved to help them.
"She's not taking to Tori quite as fast as she took to you, huh?" Bella observed.
"To be fair, Tori doesn't have the benefit of looking and sounding exactly like Dad."
She nodded in agreement.
"So let's talk about library cards. Can I get away with using Dad's account?"
"No, but we can set one up for you. You own property in Forks now, right?"
"I don't, but Alice does."
Bella paused in the process of dragging chairs toward a storage closet. "Really?"
"Yep. Dad left the Forks house to her."
"Huh. Well, yes, as a member of Alice's household you can get one. Or we can just use her account, if you're willing to be the new responsible party."
"Alice has her own library card?"
"Yep."
"Right on. Let's do that."
"Uh-wud!" Alice was charging back across the floor to him. "Pity hayo! Toey do it!"
"Yeah, and look, your tiara isn't falling off." He swung her up onto his hip. "Bella says you have your very own library card. Do you want to check out these books with it?"
"Oh, yes!"
Edward wrapped his free arm around Tori's waist and steered her toward the circulation desk.
A couple of minutes later, Alice was tucking a plastic card into her pendy puss and Edward was picking up a bag stuffed to the limit with picture books and graphic novels. "Thanks again for the coffee, Bella."
"No worries. The one luxury I absolutely can't do without is good coffee."
"Same," Tori agreed.
Edward suspected there were at least fifty luxuries that Tori absolutely couldn't do without, but as the same was true for him, he felt no need to point it out. "See you later," he said instead. "And Ava . . ." He looked around until he spotted her shelving some books nearby. "You'll be here next week? You don't have to be in school or anything?"
"I get school credit for volunteering here."
"Awesome. See you next week, then."
"Bye!"
"Bye!" Alice replied, waving her baby hand. "Bye, Aba! Bye, Boa! Bye, Toey!"
"No, Tori's coming with us."
"Oh."
Alice led the way to the door, but Edward was detained in the parking lot by June, the woman who had promised to post details about Ted's memorial service on the town Facebook page. She wanted to have a long conversation about what she had done and whether he had seen it and whether she should post it again with updated information. And after all, she was doing him a favor. Edward shifted his bags from one arm to another as she talked to him, nodding and providing the required answers while keeping one eye on Alice. She was crouching down beside the curb, eyeing the rocks on the ground.
"A-diss?" she asked, holding up a smooth black stone for his inspection.
"It's a rock."
"Pity!"
"I suppose so."
She put it in her pendy puss, and as June was talking to him again, Edward didn't try to prevent Alice from keeping the rock. But he did watch as she chose several more, deemed them "pity," and put them in her bag. So that was cool. They were taking half the parking lot home with them.
When she had collected enough rocks to satisfy her, Alice stepped up onto the curb, turned around, and jumped off. It was only a few inches, but her uncoordinated limbs flailed as she scrambled for balance.
"Careful."
"Yes! A-jump!"
Edward smiled at her and agreed with June's plans to repost the news about Ted's service this afternoon and once again on Saturday morning. Should she make it an event? Would he like people to RSVP?
Alice climbed onto the curb again and jumped off, once again struggling to stay upright. But when she caught her balance she laughed and clapped her hands.
Should the Facebook announcement ask people to potluck food? No? Should it mention the catered meal?
Alice jumped again, laughed, clapped. The kid did manage to find ways to entertain herself.
June was talking about how much she had loved Ted when Alice took her next jump. This time she didn't manage to regain her balance and went sprawling on the blacktop. Edward rushed to pick her up even before she had finished drawing breath to let out a piercing wail.
"Aw, kid, come here. Did you get hurt?"
She ran out of breath on her first cry, sucked in more air, and moaned, "PITY JWESS!"
"No, look, it's fine." He brushed some dust and gravel from the fabric of her dress. Fortunately there hadn't been any rain to speak of in the last couple of days, so her dress had managed to stay free from any real stain. "See? All clean."
She hiccoughed. "A-chween?"
"Yeah. Let me see your hands."
She moaned again and held out her palms for his inspection. The lace gloves weren't particularly dirty, but they had torn in the fall. Alice took one look at them and shrieked.
"Awww, it's okay, kiddo. We have plenty more at home."
"YAIDY WUUUUUUUVS," she wailed.
"I know. It's a sad, sad thing to lose such a fine pair of gloves." He eased them off her hands and tucked them into his pocket. "What about your hands? Did they get hurt?"
The possibility distracted her and she eyed her hands with tear-filled eyes. They were red and lightly scraped, so they probably hurt a little.
"Habba ban-aid?" Alice asked, sounding distressed.
Edward was about to tell her that she didn't need a band-aid, but he stopped. If it made her feel better, why not?
"Yeah, I think we have some band-aids in here. Let me see." He set her on her feet and located the first aid kit in the diaper bag. "Here we go. Oh, look, your band-aids have a little cartoon . . . girl, probably?"
"Uh-huh. Iss Doh-wa."
Edward consulted the box. "Dora?"
"Uh-huh."
Edward peeled open a band-aid and pressed it to her hand. "What's the monkey's name?"
She sniffed. "Boots."
"Boots?"
"Uh-huh."
"Excellent. I love it when they have names you can pronounce."
"Uh-huh."
Edward applied a second band-aid to her other palm and then took her hands in his and pressed gentle kisses to each one.
"That should start to feel better soon, okay?"
"Tay."
Edward drew her in for a hug and she clung to him. He stood, giving her a comforting squeeze before using one hand to collect all of their bags. He headed to the car, Tori trailing behind them, and got her settled into her carseat.
He had hoped to head out to a sushi place in La Push that he'd heard about, but he wasn't sure Alice's newly soured mood would allow for any kind of a peaceful meal. So he aimed them toward home instead and made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Which she didn't want. She wanted macaroni and cheese again, and though Edward's whole self revolted against the horror that was Kraft dinner, he sighed and did as she asked.
Once Alice was undressed, bibbed, and poking at her macaroni, Edward pulled together a couple of sandwiches for himself and Tori.
"It's not much," he said, "and somehow there's no wine? I don't know. But this is what we've got."
"It's better than that," she said, nodding toward Alice's lunch.
"No kidding."
They had only just sat down to eat, though, when there was a knock at the door. Edward glanced out the front window and saw a delivery truck parked in front of the house.
"Oh, hey, they're early. Hang on." He got up to open the door and greet the delivery guys, and then he took a minute to show them where he wanted everything. Once they had their instructions, he returned to the table to eat his sandwich.
Tori was gaping at him. "What . . . the hell?"
"What?"
"You're moving in?"
Right. Because that was what it looked like. "No. I mean, not really."
"You're setting up a whole office," she accused. "One that's nicer than the one in your apartment!"
"Yeah. Look. I'm going to be working on a project."
"You said you were settling your dad's estate."
"I'm doing that too. But also, Tanya pitched me an interesting collaboration with someone near here, and the timing just kind of works." He scratched the back of his head, figuring he'd better come all the way clean. "And someone else is going to stay in my apartment for a little while."
"You're subletting?"
"No. She's a friend. Or . . . a professional contact. Both, kind of. And I can't take Alice back there anyway, so someone might as well use the place."
"Where do you plan to take Alice?"
"I don't know. I'm going to have to get a place with a second bedroom. Tori, seriously, it's nothing. It's a short project and then I'm heading straight back to Olympia. A few months, just like I said.
She pushed her sandwich away and folded her arms over her stomach.
Alice threw her spoon on the floor. "Iss yuh-tee."
"What do you mean, it's yucky?" Edward asked. "That's what you wanted."
"No."
"You want a sandwich instead?"
"No."
"Do you want some milk?"
"No." She folded her arms, and he glanced between Tori and Alice feeling utterly helpless.
"You can't just skip lunch."
"NO!"
"Okay, look." He retrieved the rejected sandwich from the kitchen. "I'm going to leave your sandwich and the macaroni here. You decide what you want to eat."
"NO! ISS YUH-TEE!"
"Whatever. You're going to stay here until you've had lunch."
In response. Alice swept both her bowl and the plate with the sandwich off her tray. They fell and smashed into a mess of food and porcelain on the floor."
Edward sighed and rose to clean it up.
Alice fussed the whole time. She wanted to get out of her high chair, but now the gauntlet had been thrown down and Edward was taking it up. There was no way in hell a baby was going to win a battle of wills against him. When he'd gotten the mess cleaned up, he sat down again and took a bite of his sandwich. He ignored her while he chewed and swallowed, and then he looked at her.
"You just let me know when you're ready for lunch and I'll get you some more."
"NO! DIT DOWN NOW!"
Edward took another bite of his sandwich.
Alice lost her shit. She screamed until her face was red, kicked her feet, slammed her hands on her tray, and tried to wiggle out of her high chair. But the chair was sturdy and the belts were tightened, and there was no way she was getting out. Realizing that only made her angrier. She screamed so much that the furniture delivery men winced, so much that even Tori looked sympathetic, and so much that Edward started to doubt his resolve. It was just lunch, after all. Was it really so awful if she missed it every now and then? He was getting close to giving in, but then Alice's screams settled down into mournful wailing and the urgency left him. She was fine. She was mad about not getting her way, but maybe it would do her some good not to get her way every now and then.
"You want some grapes?" he offered.
She stopped crying long enough to say, "Uh-huh,"
Edward stood and collected a few grapes in a bowl—plastic this time—and set it in front of her.
"Appadoose," Alice commanded.
Edward poured some apple juice into a sippy cup and set it in front of her.
Alice gave him a sulky look and then picked up the cup and took a drink.
Edward felt fucking triumphant.
Which might have been a little premature, because in the end, Alice ate two grapes. She poked at them until the office furniture had been set up and the delivery men left, but she didn't put much into her mouth. When she asked to get down again, Edward gave in. He lifted her out of her chair and rocked her until her tear-swollen eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep. He gently unwound her braids and extracted her tiara, then he carried her to her bed and tucked her in. He was so tired that it was all he could do not to crawl in next to her and take a nap himself. But Tori was still there and he had things to do, so he pulled the door almost closed behind him and returned to the sofa. He took out his phone and tapped at the screen.
"Tor, what was that coffee place you used to get deliveries from? The one that sent you single-origin beans from different countries?"
"Why?"
"I thought I might set up a subscription for the library. A little gift for Bella and the others."
Tori took his phone out of his hands and set it aside. She cupped his face and turned it until he was looking at her.
"It's time for you to pay attention to me now."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Hadn't he been with her all this time?
"What do you mean? I've been paying attention to you."
"Do you really think so? Because I've had a more meaningful conversation with the librarian today than I've had with you."
She was right. He flashed her a sheepish smile and took her hands in his. "Yeah. Okay. But you see what I mean? Alice takes so much of my attention. It's really hard to focus on anything else, even a podcast that I really, really want to listen to."
"This isn't about the podcast. Edward. This has to stop."
He was confused. "What?"
"This whole thing. Staying in Forks, playing house with a little kid. This isn't realistic. You need to get her settled with a good family and get back to your life."
He stared at her for several long seconds, unwilling to believe that she was really saying what it sounded like she was saying.
"No offense to your dad," she said, "but what he did here was really shitty."
"What—dying?"
"Dying and leaving you with a kid when he knew you never wanted one."
Edward thought she might be overstating things. He'd never had any particular drive to have kids, but it wasn't like he'd been going around declaring his decision not to have any. Had he? He couldn't entirely discount the possibility that he'd said something like that at one time or another.
"Okay, look. I know I didn't plan for this, but that doesn't mean I can't change course. Alice is my sister."
"So you have to sacrifice everything to take care of her? That's just not true. It's not okay for him to take away your choices like that."
Edward couldn't help but think about Bella's situation. About how differently Tori and Bella saw the world. Like Edward, Tori came from money, and he could see how that meant she had options open to her. If one of her family members needed help, she could hire nurses, nannies, whatever it took to see to their needs. Her own presence would never be necessary. Where Bella's situation meant that life's sudden direction changes took her along with them. Tori was right that Edward could hand Alice over to someone else and go back to the way things had been before, and he suddenly appreciated that for the luxury that it was.
So he was conscious that he had all the options he could want when he told her, "I'm choosing to raise Alice. I love her."
She looked at him with eyes full of pity. "If you love her, don't you think you should do what's best for her?"
"Um. Yes? How is being with me not what's best for her?"
She gave a disbelieving scoff. "Come on, do you really think you're cut out for this? That whole scream-fest over lunch just now wasn't exactly brilliant parenting."
That stung. Enough that Edward folded in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, look, I'm not great at it yet. We're figuring it out."
"You don't have to. Sweetie. Don't let your dad make you feel obligated to raise his kid for him."
"I don't feel obligated." Except he did. And maybe that wasn't the whole reason that he'd chosen to take custody of Alice, but it was certainly part of it.
"I know it's hard. You feel like you're letting him down if you walk away. But he's gone and you still have to live your life. You're allowed to do that on your own terms."
Irritation flared up in him. He'd already had this debate and he wanted it to be settled. "You know what would be cool? If you and my mom didn't keep telling me what a shit parent I'm destined to be."
She placed a soothing hand on his arm. "Do you think maybe we know you well enough to see that this isn't your strength?"
He shook off her hand and stood up. "Maybe it's not," he admitted, because yeah, clearly he was fucking this up pretty badly. "But that can change. I can learn to do this."
"Sure, you can, but is that really what you want to do? Have you thought about what you're giving up?"
"Nights at the club aren't exactly what my life's about," he grumbled.
"It's not just the clubs. You can't go out to dinner or a movie without getting a babysitter—unless you want to be one of those assholes who takes your kid to a restaurant with you." She gave a hard laugh and Edward winced. He was starting to have some sympathy for those assholes. Was it really so awful to want to take your kid with you when you went out? "And look at you. You're already in bed by ten. 'Early to bed and early to rise' has never been your style. How about your dating life? Even if you can arrange for a sitter, who's going to want to be with someone who already has a kid?"
All valid points. Freedom was a painful thing to give up. But people did it all the time; they had kids and they traded in their single lives for parenthood. Of course, they often had stable relationships to settle into when they did it . . .
But the thought of trading Alice in for a life of fewer responsibilities felt ugly. And sad. The kid drove him crazy, but he still loved the hell out of her.
"Listen," he said, keeping his tone low and measured, "in the years we've known each other, you've taken on a lot of different projects. I've supported every one of them. I never once told you that whatever you were doing wasn't right for you or that you weren't cut out for the job. I had faith in you and I said so. Now I'm taking something on, and it's the biggest, hardest, scariest thing I've ever done. I'm terrified. But it would make a big difference to me to know that I had the support of my best friend."
She looked at him for several long seconds. "I can't change your mind?" she finally said.
He shook his head.
"Okay, then. If this is what you really want, I support you. How can I help?"
He let out a relieved breath. "For now? Just be patient with me. I'm not ignoring you and I'm not forgetting about you. I'm just trying to find my new normal. But when I do, you'll definitely be a big part of it."
"Okay." She hugged him, which led to kissing, and they ended up sealing their new promises in the bedroom. Alice, bless her, stayed asleep throughout, a kindness for which Edward promised himself he would repay her.
Tori left shortly afterward, and not long later Alice awoke in a subdued mood. Edward got her dressed and read to her for a while, then he let her watch a TV show. After that, Alice unearthed a tablet in a green rubber case and showed him a game she liked where she matched colors and shapes.
Edward spent the whole time determined to prove himself—to Tori, to himself, to Alice, to anyone who doubted that he could be a parent. He was determined to be patient enough, compassionate enough, selfless enough . . . and he did great, if he did say so himself.
So when Leah arrived, he was in a pretty good mood. Alice raced to the door with him to see who was there, and when she saw Leah she threw herself at the girl's legs.
"Yee-yah! A-heo!"
"I'm here!" Leah agreed.
"Seen a sonn!" Alice darted away and Leah stepped into the living room, letting Edward close the door behind her.
"Good to see you," Edward told her.
Alice came running back into the room with her plastic microphone, yelling "A-seen a-waydies! A-seen a-waydies!" into the echoing chamber.
Leah held out her hand for the microphone as though she knew exactly what was expected of her. "Ready?" she asked.
"Weddy!" Alice said, handing over the microphone.
"All the single ladies!" Leah sang into the microphone, and then she held it out to Alice.
"A-seen a-waydies!"
"All the single ladies!"
"A-seen a-waydies!"
Leah tossed the microphone onto the sofa and threw her hands in the air. "Now put your hands up!"
Alice copied her and the two of them danced around the living room while Leah sang to them. Edward leaned his shoulder against the door and grinned. Leah had the moves down, but Alice's baby boogie was the best thing he'd ever seen. It was adorable watching her try to imitate Leah's dance while also throwing in whatever frenetic movements suited her in the moment. After a chorus of, "If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it," the two of them collapsed on the floor and laughed together.
Edward clapped for them and then moved to perch on the edge of the sofa.
"Sorry." Leah got up and took Alice's hand, grinning but looking nervous. "I do actually work, I promise."
"Are you kidding? Entertaining Alice is work. But can I have a minute to talk about the arrangements Dad made for you."
The smile disappeared and she moved to the sofa, mirroring his position.
"He's set up something that's a lot like an endowment fund. Do you know what that is?"
She shook her head.
"It's . . . well, okay. Let's say I was really into ballet and I wanted to make sure that Forks would always be able to sustain a ballet company."
Leah smirked. Alice was trying to climb her knees, so she lifted her onto her lap and let Alice show off her pretty fingernail polish.
"Yeah, I know," Edward said. "Maybe ballet isn't really Forks's thing, but use your imagination. Let's say I figure it takes ten thousand dollars a year to put on a proper show."
Her eyes widened. "Is that what it costs?"
"Haven't a clue. I don't know a damn thing about running a ballet company. Let's not get bogged down in the details."
"Right." She suppressed a smile.
"So a show costs ten thousand. I could, if I were a reliable person, just donate ten thousand dollars to the Forks Ballet every year and take the corresponding moderate tax breaks."
"Tax breaks?"
"Philanthropy always comes with tax breaks. I may love ballet, but it's never going to be my whole reason for donating money."
"Okay."
"But then, when I die, Alice gets all my money."
"Hassum munny?" Alice asked, holding out her hand.
"Not until I die," he said, and then to Leah, he added, "Then she gets to decide whether she wants to keep funding the Forks Ballet. There's a good chance she won't, and the ballet dies with me."
"But you don't care because you're dead, and you weren't doing it for the ballet anyway."
"Hey, I still care about ballet," he said defensively. "Yeah, I get extra benefits from the donation, but I still think ballet makes the world a better place. More . . . flexible or something."
She grinned.
"Now, if I wanted to, I could set things up so that the ballet would get money forever and ever, or at least until the American financial system collapses."
"How?"
"With an endowment fund."
"Dowma fun?" Alice asked.
"Instead of giving ten thousand at a time, I can take a much larger sum and invest it into an account that's going to generate interest. The idea is that we leave that original investment, the principal, in the account forever, and then we skim off the interest that it generates. There are usually some associated fees, and you have to leave a little of the interest in there so that the fund keeps up with inflation, but basically, if I put enough money into the account, I'll get ten thousand dollars in spendable interest every year in perpetuity."
"Oh. Wow."
"Right. Now, if I want to, I can be really specific about how that money is used. Maybe the Forks Ballet does okay with fundraising and they don't really need ten thousand a year to get by. But I know Alice really likes it when the dancers wear pretty dresses."
"Pity jwess?" Alice asked with interest.
"Exactly," Edward said. "I want to make sure they have plenty of money for costuming. So I can stipulate that some or all of my donation gets spent on that one particular aspect of the ballet. And then, even if they're performing in a theater where the roof has fallen in, they have to spend that money on costumes. They'll need to come up with roof-fixing money somewhere else."
"Okay."
"Okay. So this account Dad set up is a quasi-endowment fund. There's a principal amount that's generating interest, and the payments that have been made to your doctors so far have been coming from the interest. The unspent interest has been reinvested and the principal has been increasing a little over time. The stipulation that Dad put on the fund is that it must be used for gender affirming care for you. You can't use this money for college, or your parents' mortgage payment, or even if you get cancer. It's only for you and it's only for that one specific kind of medical care. But there is one difference from a typical endowment fund, and that's that you can eventually withdraw from the principal investment if you want to."
She looked unsure. "I can?"
"Yes. It would still have to be used for gender-affirming care, but if you, for instance, wanted to have a major surgical procedure, you would be able to withdraw money from the principal for that."
Her lips parted and she drew in a deep breath. The hope in her eyes actually hurt to look at.
"Yee-yah habba pity jwess?" Alice asked.
Edward smiled, but he didn't answer her. He was watching Leah.
"You have to be careful with that, because when you withdraw some of the principal, the interest payments decrease. So you'd have to make sure you were aware of any post-surgical maintenance that might be required, and you'd need to know that you would still be able to fund that out of pocket or with the lowered interest payments."
He was pretty sure he'd lost her. She was staring at some point in the middle distance, and he doubted that the financial details were making it through. So he didn't mention that her parents were already the treasurers on the account and that there was exactly zero paperwork that even had to be done. He'd go over all of that with Sue and Harry on Sunday.
"Seen a sonn?" Alice asked.
"Give her just a minute," Edward said to her.
Alice turned to Leah and examined her stunned face.
"I just wanted to let you know that this is all taken care of. Dad set it up to be as easy for you as possible."
"Um." She stood up and set Alice down on the floor. "Okay. I'm . . . gonna go do some laundry."
"A-hope you," Alice said, taking her hand.
She nodded, finally focusing on Alice. "Yep, let's go get the clothes hampers."
Edward smiled after them. He'd give her some time to process and he'd be available for questions when they inevitably came up.
Leah spun around before she disappeared into hallway. "Um. Thank you."
"Don't thank me. It was all Dad."
"Still."
There wasn't really any answer to that, so he just smiled and she headed down the hall.
Leah kept Alice busy all afternoon. Alice "helped" Leah with all kinds of chores, and Edward loved to see how Leah praised her for doing good work and then discreetly fixed her messes when Alice wasn't looking. The girl was doing as much babysitting as cleaning, which left Edward free to set up his new computers and place an order through Carlisle's contact for all the computer monitors that he wanted to mount on the wall. He also put in a grocery delivery order to make sure there was plenty of vegetarian-friendly food available in the house for Esme.
By the time Leah left, both Edward and Alice were in great moods. Edward threw one of the frozen meals into the oven—best to use up what he could before Esme got there, since he doubted anything the neighbors had made would have taken her dietary restrictions into account—and he let Alice chatter at him while they ate.
A small part of him hoped that she would get tired and fall asleep before Esme arrived, but she was still bright-eyed and eagerly "helping" him clean the kitchen when the doorbell chimed. Edward turned off the water that Alice had been happily splashing all over the counters and lifted her down.
"Owizzit?" Alice asked, yelling for the door.
Edward followed and pulled it open. Esme stood on the other side, and Edward smiled at her as he noted the small changes since he'd last seen her. She'd shaved the sides of her head and dyed her hair dark black with purple streaks. Her ears were still studded all the way up with rows of earrings, and though Edward had never tried to catalog the tattoos on her arms, he thought they might be a little more densely crowded than they had been before. The nose ring and the eyebrow ring were the same, but she'd added a new piercing to her lower lip that looked sexy as fuck.
Alice took one look at her and ran away. Edward thought for a moment that she might be scared, but Alice only hurried to her pendy puss and snatched it up, hugging it to her chest.
"Mine!" she declared.
Edward laughed and beckoned Esme into the house. He took her suitcase from her and wheeled it against the wall before pulling her into a quick hug.
"Damn, it's good to see you. How was the trip?"
"Grueling." But her attention was on Alice and she lowered into a crouch. "Hi, sweetie. What have you got there?"
"My pendy puss," Alice said.
"It looks so angry," Esme said, her eyes wide.
"Issa monsoo. Waaaah!
Esme shrieked and jumped up, darting behind Edward to hide.
Alice laughed with delight, and when Esme peeked over Edward's shoulder, Alice shoved her purse forward and yelled "WAAAAAH!" Esme squealed and cowered.
Edward snickered. "Okay, kid, that's enough. Stop trying to scare Esme. You want to tell her your name?"
"Diss Awiss!"
"It's very nice to meet you, Alice," Esme said, coming out from behind Edward to shake her hand. "I'm Esme."
"Muzmay?"
She grinned. "Yep."
"I was just about to put the kid in the bath," Edward said. "Let me show you the guest room and you can get settled while I do that."
"Perfect."
Fifteen minutes later, Esme was sitting beside the bathtub playing with Alice and her toys while occasionally updating Edward on her work situation. Apparently, the meeting she'd requested in order to talk about taking a leave of absence had gone badly, and she'd managed to record her boss saying some things that a lawyer would be able to turn into a rather large monetary settlement. When Esme said as much and requested a very generous severance package instead, her boss had agreed. She was free and clear, and she even had a little bit of a financial cushion that would allow her time to look for something better.
"They're going to miss you when they have to start doing their own work again," Edward observed.
Esme just smiled.
Edward glanced down at Alice to see her on her hands and knees, dipping her chin into the water with her mouth open wide.
"Are you drinking the bathwater?" he asked her.
She snapped her teeth together and swallowed the water in her mouth. "Uh-huh."
"More eating than drinking," Esme observed.
He shook his head. "At least she didn't poop in it this time."
Alice chomped again and swallowed the water.
"Parenting has been an adventure, has it?" Esme asked with dancing eyes.
He just shook his head.
"So how are you feeling about this project?" Edward asked. "Do you want to jump right in or do you need a couple of days off first?"
"Rosalie seems anxious to get started," Esme said. "And I'd just as soon have something to work on. All I need is a shower and a good night's sleep and I'll be ready to go."
"Shall I text Rose and see if she wants to come over tomorrow?"
"Works for me."
Edward sent the text and then turned back to the bathtub. "Okay, Alice, it's time to get cleaned up so Esme can use the bathroom." They gathered her toys into their basket and he lifted Alice out of the bathtub. Predictably, as soon as he turned to grab her towel, Alice darted out of the bathroom and ran squealing down the hall.
"Excuse me for a minute," Edward told Esme. "I have to go catch a streaker." Then he trotted out of the bathroom, brandishing the towel and yelling for Alice to come back.
