11 Momentum
Edward found the basement weight room the next morning. He had entirely forgotten about the stairway under the back deck that his dad's friends had told him about, but while he was doing the breakfast dishes the next morning, he complained to Esme about how long it had been since he'd been to a gym.
"Doh-a gym?" Alice asked, perking up. Before Edward could answer, she was tearing down the hallway toward the bedroom. When he met her there, she was pulling open a drawer in her changing table and withdrawing a pair of yellow leggings with a matching crop top.
"You've got to be kidding me. You have workout clothes?"
"Yep! Dit swonn!" She flexed her baby muscles.
Edward grinned. "You're pretty strong, all right. Okay, I'm into it." He changed her into her clothes and then checked in with Esme.
"You want to join us?"
"I don't suppose you have a rowing machine down there?"
"Haven't a clue. Let's find out."
Edward ducked into his bedroom for a quick change into a T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and when he and Esme were properly attired, he pointed Alice toward the back door.
"You want to show us where to go?"
"Yes! So you!"
Alice ran to the back door, where she had to pause to let Edward open it for her. But then she hurried down the porch steps and veered off to the left, where a damp staircase led into an alcove below the deck. Edward followed Alice down to the door and entered the key code into the lock. He pushed it open and stepped inside, and he found himself immediately facing a large wooden rack filled with bottles of wine.
"I knew it!" Edward crowed. "I knew he had to have his wine stashed somewhere!"
"Buried treasure," Esme agreed behind him, admiring the collection of bottles.
Alice, however, had darted past the wine and farther into the room. "Mon, Uh-wud! Hope!"
"What do you need help with?" he asked, making his way past the shelves. The room beyond was filled with workout equipment of all kinds, and large televisions were mounted on walls on either side of the room. But what caught Edward's attention was the two-foot wall that separated the heavy-duty equipment from the far section of the room. Beyond the wall there were tiny, child-sized versions of most of the workout equipment. Alice was making vain attempts to hoist herself over the wall, which was too high for her to really make progress on.
"Whaaaaat," Edward murmured, scanning the tiny machines. They were made of colorful molded plastic and looked much safer to operate than the ones on his side of the wall, but what surprised him the most was the wide variety of them. Alice had a weight rack, a little treadmill, a bike with an attached tablet, a weight bench, an elliptical machine, a tiny trampoline, a climbing rope, and even an adorable little rowing machine. "Alice! You have your very own gym?"
"Uh-huh. Awiss ussoosize!"
Edward lifted her over to the wall and she hurried to her bike. Clearly the tablet was a favorite feature because she turned it on right away and didn't start pedaling until she had chosen a video to watch.
"That," Esme said, coming up behind him with a hand over her mouth, "is the cutest thing I've ever seen."
"I know, right? We should get some pictures." He pulled his phone from his pocket. "Tori wants to be kept in the loop, right, Alice? Let's show her what we're up to."
"Yes!" Alice stopped pedaling and threw out her hands in an exuberant pose. Edward snapped several shots of her and the equipment all around her and texted them all to Tori.
"Perfect." Edward put his phone away, but he didn't waste too much more time dawdling. He knew Alice's attention span was limited, and he wanted to take advantage of what time the baby gym would buy him. He figured he was overdue for a cardio day, so he started with the treadmill and began a warm-up.
And, hell, as long as Alice was entertained, maybe this was a good time to get that podcast going. He pulled his phone from his pocket and settled it into a holder on the front of the treadmill, then opened his podcast app and started playing Tori's latest episode.
As it turned out, the gym did have a rowing machine, and that was where Esme began. She fiddled with the unfamiliar tech for a few minutes, but then began a steady pace.
"What is that?" she asked him as she rowed.
"My friend's podcast. She was an ice skater for a while, and now she has a podcast about ice sports with a retired hockey player."
"You're into ice sports?"
"Not really. But, you know, if your friend has a podcast, you listen to it."
"Sure, okay. A moment later, she added, "Do you really listen to podcasts on normal speed?"
Edward shot her a querying look. "Yes? There are other speeds?"
She laughed. "I rarely listen to anything on less than double speed anymore."
Edward examined his app, and sure enough, there was a speed control. "And you can keep up?"
"Maybe you should work up to it," she suggested. Try it on one and a quarter until you get used to it."
This was feeling like a really smart tactic to Edward. If he had limited time and he could make sixty minutes fit into forty-five, he was here for it. He ticked up the speed and listened for a moment. Yeah. He could totally handle this.
"Can I do this with audiobooks too?" he asked, thinking of the parenting book waiting for him.
"Sure, if your app has speed controls. And if it doesn't, get a new app."
"This is genius." He gave his attention back to the podcast and increased the treadmill's speed to match the book's.
Alice gave them plenty of time to work up a sweat. When she was tired of cycling, she moved to the weight rack and lifted the little barbells over her head, crowing about how "swonn" she was. Then she climbed onto to her elliptical. A few minutes with each one of her machines kept her occupied for a decent amount of time, and when she tired of all of them she wandered to a soft mat in the corner and twirled around until she made herself dizzy. Edward laughed with her every time she became so unsteady on her feet that she collapsed to the mat. The kid was hilarious.
It turned out to be really convenient having Esme staying with them. After their workout, she looked after Alice while Edward hit the shower. It was the first time in a while that he hadn't had to rush, and it felt absolutely indulgent to just stand under the hot water and let it soothe his tired muscles. When he got out again, feeling fully clean and refreshed for the first time in nearly a week, he was damn near ready to propose to Esme just to keep her around.
When it was Esme's turn for the shower, Edward took Alice into the bedroom to get her dressed for daycare.
"Peent wun," she said, pointing toward the closet.
"No, today we're going to wear play clothes."
"No! Peent wun! Hattoo!"
"Mrs. Cope says we're not allowed to wear dresses to daycare, remember? They get dirty."
"No!" She looked panicked. "No dooty!"
"Right? We don't like it when our dresses get dirty. So we have to wear play clothes."
Alice's baby lip poked out and she drew in a breath to start crying. "Wanna pity jweeeeess," she wailed, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.
Edward heaved a sigh. Reason clearly wasn't working. Maybe distraction would help? "Hey, I know!" he said, trying to sound excited about his suggestion. "We should wear the shirts that Bella gave us!"
She stopped crying. "Boa?"
"Yeah, remember our matching shirts?"
"Matcheen?"
Edward dug through the drawer until he found Alice's little black T-shirt proclaiming "lol ok." "See? Here's yours. Let's go find mine." He lifted her off of the table, pleased that she seemed interested, and carried her to his bedroom closet. He found his "I'm the boss" shirt and pulled it off the hanger. "Here it is! See? It looks just like yours."
"Diss mine?"
Edward set her on his bed and held up the shirts. "This one is yours," he told her, giving hers a shake. "And this one is mine."
Alice reached for her shirt and Edward felt victorious. He stripped off the Oxford shirt he was already wearing and put the T-shirt on instead. Then he helped Alice put her shirt on over her head.
"Should we wear jeans with them?" he asked.
"Uh-huh. Jeans."
He took off his slacks and replaced them with a pair of jeans. "Okay, let's go find you some jeans."
Alice helped him look through the changing table until they found some little denim pants. That, paired with her sparkly red shoes, seemed to make Alice happy. Edward lifted her down from the table, but she whined and raised her feet, refusing to be set down.
"No! No! Habba yawa!"
"A tiara? With play clothes?"
"Yes! Hattoo!"
Edward sighed. "Fine. You can wear a tiara." At least he knew how to fix her hair so the tiara would stay in while she was at daycare. He let Alice choose a crown and then braided her hair around it to keep it in place. "How's that? Are you ready?"
"Weddy!" She grinned, looking very pleased with herself.
"Good. Let's get ready to go to daycare."
He released her while he put on his shoes and packed up the diaper bag. "Come on, shorty," he said when he was ready.
"Mon, soty." Alice appeared from the dining room, her pendy puss slung over her shoulder.
"We can't take your bag, remember? Mrs. Cope said no purses at daycare."
Alice shot a glance down the hall, where Esme was putting on makeup in front of the bathroom mirror. "Yes. Hattoo."
"No, no purse. Leave it here, please."
Alice hugged it to her chest. "Mine."
Edward let out a tired sigh. "Esme isn't going to take your purse. She has her own. Just put it down and come on."
She started walking toward the door, purse still very much clutched in her arms.
"Okay, compromise. Let's take it and leave it in the car. That way it will be locked up and safe while you're at daycare, and nobody can steal it. Okay?"
"Tay."
He managed to get her into the car, but as soon as he let her out of her carseat she grabbed her purse again.
"Alice, come on. We had a deal. We have to leave your purse in the car."
"No. Mine."
"That's right, it's yours." It may have been underhanded to turn her fears against her, but Edward didn't have a lot of qualms about being underhanded. "If you take it in there, one of the other kids might steal it."
Her eyes widened.
"Let's hide it," he said, trying to sound like a co-conspirator. He looked around the car to see if there was anything useful he could throw it over the top of. There wasn't much, but a lumpy molded plastic something was in the back hatch, so he beckoned her to follow him and he moved to the back of the car. "Come here. Let's hide it behind this."
She seemed game, so he helped her into the back of the car and let her tuck her purse behind the plastic whatever-it-was. It wasn't at all hidden, so Edward tried to prop the plastic whatever in front of it a little better. The whatever was heavy.
"There. All hidden." It was not well hidden at all, but Alice accepted his confidence and allowed herself to be separated from her purse. Which, again, didn't make Edward feel great. The kid trusted him way more than he deserved. They made it inside, though, without any pretty dresses or pendy pusses to mess up her day.
Mrs. Cope greeted them in happy Spanish, and though Edward couldn't follow their conversation, it became very clear that Alice was showing off her tiara. Edward suddenly felt super self-conscious about it, and he made a face as Mrs. Cope declared it "bonita" and sent Alice off to play with her friends.
"Sorry about the tiara," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I managed to keep her out of the dresses, but she was dead set on the tiara."
"It's no problem at all," Mrs. Cope said with a laugh. "Kids can be very particular about their clothes." She gestured to a little girl who looked like she was trying to climb a wall. "This is Evie's fourth week straight wearing only her Spider-Man pajamas, and Oliver," she nodded toward a little boy, "won't go anywhere without his safari hat and galoshes."
Edward grinned at the kids. They made Alice seem almost normal. "That makes me feel so much better. I was worried I was just being lazy by letting Alice have her way."
"Not at all. It can be empowering for kids this age to be allowed to choose what they wear. In fact, it can help if you let them choose between two things that are acceptable to you. So instead of trying to talk Alice out of her dresses, maybe just show her two different shirts and ask which one of them she would like."
"Clever," he murmured. "I'm going to try that."
With Alice settled, he headed back home to get to work on the graphic novel. There was an unfamiliar car parked out front when he arrived, so he wasn't surprised to see Rose sitting with Esme on the sofa when he let himself inside.
Rose looked up at him, and he watched her stiffen at his approach, her eyes narrowing. She was clearly bracing for a fight, and he wasn't sure why until he realized that she was staring at his chest. Or, more particularly, at the shirt that was boldly declaring, "I'm the boss."
"Shit. No." He knew Rose was sensitive about how much control she would have over the graphic novel, and she was absolutely going to take the message the wrong way. He crossed his arms over his chest. "This is not a thing. It's a joke—about something else. It's just . . . nothing. You're the boss. Do you want to wear the shirt?"
Rose was looking at him like he was stupid, but at least the fight had gone out of her stance.
Esme was cracking up, and Edward shot her a withering look. She didn't wither.
"How about I show you the office?" Edward suggested. "I've almost got it the way I want it."
Rosalie gave him a wary nod. "Lead the way."
He led them into the office and pointed out the computers, the drafting desks, and the places on the walls where he intended to have computer monitors mounted. Then he pulled out some chairs at the long desk against the back wall and gestured for the others to sit with him.
"Let's take a look at what you've got," Edward said.
Rosalie took the seat between Edward and Esme and drew a stack of pages from her bag, clutching at them in a way that very much reminded Edward of Alice trying to protect her purse from snatchers. He nearly laughed, until it occurred to him that he might actually have to tell Rose that her work wasn't right for a graphic novel. That would be every bit as bad for her as having her purse taken away would be for Alice. This had the potential to be a rough day.
"I used a screenplay program," Rose said, and her fighting stance was back. "With notes about the panels in the stage directions. If there's some specialized format you use, I'm sure I can convert it."
He shrugged. "Screenplay software is as good as anything else. Let's see."
It cost her something to set the pages in front of him.
Edward read through the first couple of pages and drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the argument.
"It's still a little dialog-heavy. Like this, here, the stuff he throws in about the environmental lobby—"
"It's character-building," she snapped. "He was completely two-faced about his environmental stance."
He dipped his head. "Right. But that's the kind of thing we can do with the images. Like, instead of talking about it, how about we show him wiping up spilled coffee with a green spaces proposal while he talks about something else?"
A muscle in her jaw flexed, but he could tell she liked the idea. The image communicated more disdain than the dialog she'd written.
"But, honestly, most of this is good. We'll find opportunities to trim it where we can, but as long as you're okay with that, I think we can move forward.
The breath she let out was long and quiet, and for the first time since he'd walked in, she dropped her defenses.
"Mind if Esme and I read through the first section and start making notes?"
"Okay." She nodded, still on edge, and stood up. "I need coffee. Do you have coffee?
Edward grinned and pointed her in the right direction.
Rosalie hovered while he and Esme reviewed the pages. They cut out some dialog, added image notes, and changed more than it seemed like Rose was really happy with, but she bit her tongue and let them get on with it. An hour in, she even started engaging with them, fighting for lines she wanted to keep and making suggestions on how they could rework other parts. By the time they broke for lunch, Edward was on cloud nine. He was thrilled with the way the three of them were working together, and while he made lunch, he handed over his preliminary sketches for Esme and Rose to look over.
"Can we mix and match?" Rose asked. "I like the really angular framing in this one, but the eyes in the first one are perfect."
"Not to pile on," Esme added, "But the Marcus Hibbert character in the first set looks an awful lot like Zachary Taylor in Dreadful Presidents."
Edward pursed his lips. He'd known that when he'd drawn him, but the thing was . . . Hibbert did look a lot like Zachary Taylor. They had the same prominent jaw, the same nose that aimed straight at their toes. "Yeah, well, they probably both got bashed in the face with frying pans. Probably deserved it, too. I can rework him."
"I like him in the second set," Rosalie said. "I like almost everything about the second one better."
"And it's more distinct from your previous work," Esme agreed.
"I'll take another stab at the eyes after lunch," Edward said, pouring teriyaki sauce into his stir-fry.
The doorbell rang, and after a glance at Edward's busy hands, Esme stood up. "Want me to get that?"
Edward frowned. Today wasn't the best day to get a surprise visit from Victoria—or James. "I don't know. What do they look like?"
Esme headed toward the screen by the door, calling back over her shoulder. "Like a really hot blond guy with his shirt buttoned up too far."
He grinned at her description. "Long hair?" he asked, because James could possibly be described that way.
"Oh, no. The cleanest of clean cuts."
"That's probably Carlisle. Go ahead and let him in." Edward pushed the frying pan off of the burner and headed into the living room just as Carlisle was stepping through the door. He was smirking at Esme and playing with the top button of his shirt with a hand that held a tie draped loosely over it.
"How far exactly should my shirt be buttoned?"
"Depends on what you've got underneath," Esme said, giving him a blatant once over.
Carlisle popped open a button, and Edward suddenly felt an urgent need to intervene before clothes started coming off.
"All right, all right, quit sexually harassing my neighbor. Hey, Carlisle. What's up?"
He let his eyes linger on Esme for a moment more before turning to Edward. "I just wanted a quick word. Is this a bad time?"
"No, it's fine. We're about to have lunch. Want some stir-fry?"
"No, thank you, but I wouldn't say no to introductions." He flashed a smile at Esme and then nodded to Rose.
"Sure. This is Rosalie Hale. She's a law professor in Seattle." Rose arched an eyebrow, probably because Edward knew that information from Googling her, not from speaking with her. But what did she expect, that he'd jump into a major secret project with someone he knew nothing about? "And this is Esme Platt. She's a graphic designer from Boston, but she's relocated here temporarily. The three of us are working on that project that's going to keep me in town for a few months."
Carlisle shook hands and exchanged cordial greetings with both of them, though no one missed the way his eyes kept drifting toward Esme.
Edward gave him a moment before clearing his throat. "You needed a word?"
"Yes." He managed to tear his gaze away from Esme to face Edward. "Yes. I'm on the way to a meeting of the historical society. We're planning a fundraiser that Ted was intending to participate in, but . . ." He gave a faltering smile. "But since you're expecting to be in town for a while, I wondered if you might be willing to fill in."
"Sure, I can be counted on to show up and write a check. When's the fundraiser?"
"Actually, I hoped your role would be more participatory than just writing a check."
Edward hesitated. The cautious look in Carlisle's face made him think the man didn't want help setting up tables and chairs at the venue. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"The society holds an annual auction." The corners of his lips quirked up.
"Why do I feel like you're not selling art?"
"We like to have some of the members of the community pack a picnic lunch and prepare a short presentation about a facet of local history. The lunch and presentation topic are then offered up for bids and the winner shares lunch and stimulating conversation with the presenter."
"You want to sell me," Edward clarified.
"Of course not. That would be problematic. We're only selling your food and your presentation skills."
"Uh-huh. And the other people who are providing food and presentations . . . are they single and eligible?"
"Why, I suppose they are. Surely just a coincidence." He grinned.
Edward shook his head. He couldn't believe he was going to agree to this. "Are you doing it?"
"Every year. It's a nice time, I promise. A little innuendo here and there, but the people who attend are decent and they won't want you to feel truly uncomfortable."
"When is this?"
"A week from Saturday."
"I'll have to get someone to watch Alice."
"Leah is already planning to be here."
He was out of excuses. He blew out a breath and Carlisle put a hand on his arm.
"If you really don't want to, I understand. But if you think you could have fun with it, the historical society would really appreciate your contribution. They do good work on a woefully small budget."
Which Edward could probably help more by just writing a damn check, but whatever. "Okay," he said, resolving to be a good sport about it. "I'll do it. A picnic lunch, huh?"
"Right. And we try to make it special. We want to get as much money as possible out of this auction, after all."
"What are you making?"
"Uh-uh." He smiled. "Not telling. It's all anonymous, because of course we wouldn't want anyone figuring out who donated which basket and trying to bid on a person instead of a basket."
"Because that would be unethical," Edward said flatly.
"Exactly."
"So this auction," Esme said. "Is it only for members of the society?"
"Oh, no. Anyone is welcome. The more the better, really, to energize the bidding. There will be pizza and homemade root beer to purchase for those who don't manage to win a basket."
"In that case, I may have to make an appearance."
Carlisle didn't seem disappointed by this plan. He promised to send Edward information on the presentation he would have to prepare, as well as a link where he and any guests could RSVP. Then, with a last admiring look at Esme, he left them to their lunch.
"Holy Adonis," Esme murmured after the door closed.
Rosalie made a noise that was part agreement, part something dirtier.
"Seriously?" Edward asked Esme. "He's your type?"
"Sweetie, he's everybody's type."
"But he's so . . . tidy."
"You just want to mess up his hair," Rose said, staring into the middle distance.
"I bet he's wicked good in bed," Esme added.
Edward shrugged. "I mean, I've only spoken to him a handful of times, but from what I've seen, the man's a giver."
The two women looked at each other and grinned.
"All right, you two," he said sternly. "We're getting onto shaky ground, here. We're never going to get a book written if you two end up fighting over a man."
"Who said anything about fighting?" Rosalie asked. "I know how to share."
Esme laughed delightedly.
Edward decided it was time to excuse himself from the conversation before the mental imagery got any more interesting.
The second half of their day was spent finalizing the art style and beginning the thumbnail sketches. While Edward mapped the earlier pages, Esme took copious notes of her own and began establishing guidelines for lighting and perspective. She and Edward argued over layouts for a while, until they came up with a philosophy for the pages. When Christopher was toeing the line, the panels would be uniform and linear. When he began pushing boundaries, the images would overflow into the gutters. And when his lawbreaking was fully on display, the layouts would become asymmetric and haphazard, lending a sense of disordered chaos to the story.
By the time they were ready to quit that evening, they had a solid script and a unified style, and a decent chunk of the story had been mapped.
Edward put down his pencil and stretched. He was sore from working out after several days of inactivity, and he was stiff from sitting and drawing. But he couldn't help smiling, and his satisfaction included Rose and Esme and the work that they'd begun.
"This is going to work."
Rose smiled at his pronouncement. "It is."
"And it's good," Esme added. "I can't wait for it to hit the shelves."
"Let's celebrate our beginning," Edward offered. "I'd take you out somewhere really nice if we were anywhere but Forks, but . . . wanna hit the diner?"
"I could do a diner," Rose agreed.
"Suppose they have anything vegetarian?" Esme asked.
"I'm betting your options are salad or salad," Edward told her. "If there's nothing decent on the menu, we'll hit the grocery store instead and I'll cook for us."
"Fair enough."
"I could use a half hour," Rose said. "I need to do a couple of things for the professor who's covering my classes."
"And I'd like to calibrate my tablet to this computer" Esme said, turning to the one beside her drafting desk. "Have you got Akrita installed on this baby?"
"Of course," Edward said. "I have worked with you before."
"Good. Give me just a few minutes."
"I have to pick up Alice anyway," Edward said. "Let's all do what we need to do and meet at the diner when we're done."
"There's only one?" Esme asked.
Edward smirked. "Welcome to Forks."
"Makes it easy to find. Rose, can I ride with you?"
"Yep."
Edward left them to their projects and steered the Volvo to the daycare. He strode in and glanced around, locating Alice playing with a couple of other children, dressed only in her diaper and her sparkly shoes. Her braids had loosened throughout the day, and her tiara drooped to one side of her head. Edward was wondering what calamity had befallen her clothes when one of the daycare attendants bustled over to her.
"Alice, where did your clothes go?"
Alice looked down at her little bare self and gasped. "A-no know!"
Edward chuckled to himself.
The attendant took Alice by the hand while they searched the room, eventually coming up with the discarded shirt and jeans. She helped Alice into them while Edward watched, unnoticed. Once they were finished, he decided he'd better speak up.
"Hey, Alice. Are you ready to go?"
"Daddy?" Alice asked, turning toward him with a bright smile. The moment she saw him, though, her smile morphed into a wail and she sat down hard on her diapared bottom. "Noooooo! Wan Daaaddyyyyyyy!"
And . . . that hurt. Edward sank into one of the molded plastic chairs in the lobby area and propped his head in his hands. "I know," he said to Alice. "I'm a pretty poor substitute."
But she didn't hear him because she was still crying.
Edward sighed and stood up. He gestured toward her in a request for permission, and when the daycare attendant nodded, he stepped over the rail and sat down in front of Alice.
"It's been a whole week," he told her in a commiserating tone. "One week ago today, we lost our dad."
Alice whimpered and climbed into his lap.
"I know. I still hurt every day, too. I keep thinking of things that I want to tell him, and then I remember he's gone."
"Wan Daddy," Alice told him, wrapping her little arms around his neck.
"Me too. So much."
"A-home? See Daddy?"
"He's not there, kid. He's gone. He died."
"Daddy died," she said miserably.
"Yeah."
But they'd come a long way in the last week. She was hugging him for comfort, after all, instead of pushing him away. And even though she had forgotten for a moment, like Edward himself sometimes did, she seemed to be accepting that her dad wasn't coming back.
That was supposed to be a good thing.
"Do you want to go to the diner? I thought we'd take Rose and Esme there for dinner."
She pulled back, tears beaded on her face. "Iss sowday? Doh-a dinoo?"
"It's not Saturday yet, but I don't think we can go on Saturday. Do you want to go tonight instead?"
"Hassum cheeches?"
"I . . . don't know what that is, but maybe there will be a nice picture on the menu so you can show me what you want."
"Uh-huh. So you."
Alice bounced back from her disappointment fairly quickly. Edward unearthed her pendy puss when they got out to the car, which went a long way toward improving her mood. He put on a movie for her, and by the time they got to the diner she was cheerful again. He had to catch the back of her shirt to keep her from hurrying across the parking lot without him, and she laughed as she tugged against his grip.
"Goofy kid," he muttered when he let go of her shirt and took her hand instead. Once he pulled the door open, though, she yanked her hand away and darted into the restaurant, colliding with the legs of a waitress who was taking an order at a table full of aging Native American men.
"Moh-mee!" She cried with delight.
"Hey! Alice, get back here!"
Alice ignored him and addressed the waitress. "Hi! A-heo!"
"You're here!" the waitress said with a bright smile. "I'm so glad! I've missed you!"
"Hassum cheeches?"
She laughed. "Of course you can have some peaches, but first we need to get you a table."
"Sorry," Edward muttered, catching up with her and trying to catch her hand.
Alice, however, had turned her attention to the diners. "Hi!" she said cheerfully. "Awiss Po-oat."
All four of the men lit up.
"You're Po-oke?" one of them asked.
"Uh-huh. Awiss Po-oat. Hoey Po-oat. Yeeya Po-oat." She cocked her head. "You Po-oat?"
"Alice, come on," Edward said. He scooped her up and apologized again to the men.
"Don't be silly," a second man said. "We're always happy to meet one of our own. We have to look out for our fellow Po-oke, don't we, little one?"
"Yep," Alice agreed.
"That's very kind of you," Edward said with a smile. "You want to wave to the nice men?" he asked Alice. "Let's say goodbye and let them eat in peace."
"Bye!" Alice said, waving a chubby baby hand.
They all waved and gave her a chorus of goodbyes.
A host intercepted them with a booster seat and got them settled at a table, and then a moment later the waitress appeared to take their order.
"I'm Naomi," she said to Edward. "You must be Junior."
"Edward," he corrected.
"Hi, Moh-mee!" Alice said, waving again.
"Hi, Alice! I'm so glad to see you!"
"A-see you!"
"And what would you like with your peaches?" she asked, her full attention on Alice.
"Ummmm. Wo-cheez!"
"Grilled cheese. You got it."
Edward was impressed—and grateful. "I'm so glad you can understand what she's saying."
"I mean, it's only ever grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, or a quesadilla."
"She's a girl of varied tastes, then?"
Naomi laughed. "And what can I get you?"
"Just water for now. I've got a couple of people joining me soon."
"Should I wait to bring Alice's food?"
Edward shook his head. He didn't want to test her patience, and anyway, it usually took her a good long time to finish a meal. "No, let's go ahead and get her started."
"You got it. Be right back."
Edward and Alice played with some of the plastic dinosaurs she had in her pendy puss until Naomi reappeared with her food. Edward wasn't particularly impressed by the bowl of canned peaches that she placed in front of Alice, but he did appreciate that both her sandwich and her peaches had been cut into small pieces. Alice dove in, picking peaches out of her bowl and placing them on her spoon to be shuttled into her mouth.
Edward was putting her dinosaurs away when Rose entered the restaurant. Edward waved her over, giving her a confused look. "Did Esme get too distracted with her toys to come with you?"
"Nah, she's outside taking a picture of a raindrop or something."
"Ah." That made perfect sense, actually. Esme was a pretty great photographer, and he knew that she'd sold nature photos in the past as a side hustle. He'd teased her about doing it to support her tattoo habit. He passed Rose a menu and she started reading through it.
"Hi!" Alice called out, waving a sticky hand. "Hi, Tawin! Hi, Beebee! Hassum cheeches!"
Edward looked up to see Bella walking up to the hostess stand, a baby on one hip and a child following after.
"Hey, Bella."
She looked over at the sound of her name and gave him a tired smile. "Hey, Edward. And . . . sorry, I don't think I've met you yet?" She drifted over to their table, offering her free hand to Rose.
"Rosalie Hale, Bella Swan," Edward said.
"Sayta han!" Alice said, offering one syrup-covered hand to Bella.
"Let's wait until you've washed it first," Edward told her.
She pulled her hand back and examined it. "Iss dooty?"
"You're still eating." Which wasn't an answer, but it seemed to remind Alice of her peaches, which she returned to with enthusiasm.
"Bella, your order's ready," the hostess said, bringing over two bulging plastic bags. It was clearly going to be too much for her to carry with a baby in her arms, so Edward jumped up to help her.
"Here, I've got that."
She shot him a grateful look, and after a couple of pleasantries to Rose and the hostess, she led the way outside to her truck.
"You're on babysitting duty again, huh?"
She nodded, and honestly, she looked exhausted. "Yeah. Grace had to work late and Jacob's shift has already started."
Edward thought they could probably have found a babysitter who wasn't already overtaxing herself trying to take care of two adults, but he kept his opinion to himself. Anyway, it was a reminder that he was supposed to be talking to Bella about the assistance plan that his father had put together, and he hadn't figured out how to bring it up yet.
This wasn't the moment. Maneuvering two kids into safety seats in a pickup truck was practically an athletic event, and that's where Bella's attention was now. There wasn't much Edward could do besides hold the food and keep an eye on Colin while Bella got Phoebe settled. Once both kids were strapped in, Edward set the bags of food on the floor at their feet.
"Thank you for bringing those out," she said, closing the door. "That really helped."
"No problem. You good? Need anything else?"
"No, thanks. See you around."
It was an unsatisfying encounter for Edward. He would like to have had time to talk a little, give her some shit, make her laugh. It was strange for him to realize that, in spite of the number of times she'd yelled at him or criticized him, he liked spending time with her. He liked the energy of their exchanges, the way he had to step up his game to keep up with hers. This brief exchange, where all of her attention was on someone else, was disappointing.
But what was he going to do, demand more of her time? She was already stretched too thin. So he just raised a hand in farewell and headed back to the restaurant.
Esme was at the table when he returned, showing the pictures she'd taken to Rose.
"See it," Alice demanded, reaching for the phone as Edward took his seat.
Esme held the phone out to her, just beyond the reach of her sticky hands. That seemed to satisfy her and she declared the picture "Pity!"
"Thank you," Esme said. She tucked her phone away and turned her attention to the menu.
"Good news," Edward told her. "The children's menu has grilled cheese, macaroni, and quesadillas."
He was joking, but she tilted her head, considering. "I've had worse."
"Hassum wo-cheez," Alice told her, holding up a chunk of her sandwich.
"That looks delicious."
She stuffed it into her mouth with an enthusiastic "Oum!"
Naomi reappeared a moment later and took their orders. She wrote down Rosalie's sandwich and Esme's pasta, but when Edward ordered the halibut, she asked without missing a beat, "Would you like to reconsider that choice?"
"Uh . . . should I?"
"People who prefer fresh fish usually do." She delivered the line with a perfectly polite smile, as though she were doing nothing more than mentioning the special.
Rose and Esme both snickered.
"We're fifteen miles from the ocean and the halibut isn't fresh?"
"I know. I can't account for it either."
"Right. How about that blue bacon burger?"
"Fries or baked potato?"
It seemed he'd hit on a safe choice. He ordered a potato and she left to submit their order.
"I think you just dodged a bullet," Esme said.
"Or got pushed out of the way of one," Rosalie corrected. "Tip that woman extra."
Edward nodded. She deserved it, both for that and for being able to understand Alice-speak.
"Listen," Rose said, sobering. "I really want to thank you two. I've been losing sleep over this graphic novel, but right now I feel like it's in really good hands."
"I'm so excited about it," Esme said, leaning forward on her elbows.
"Me too," Edward agreed. "We should be thanking you for bringing it to us."
"I'm just feeling a lot better now, and I want you to know that I'm grateful that you're taking it seriously."
Esme hooked an arm through hers. "We're in this together now. All for one."
Rosalie sighed and let her head fall on Esme's shoulder.
"Hassum cheeches?" Alice asked her, picking a piece of fruit out of her bowl and holding it out to Rose.
She laughed and shook her head. "No, you can have it, but it's very sweet of you to offer."
"Okay, kid, listen up."
Alice was sitting up in her bed, her covers pulled up over her legs. She'd brushed her teeth, bathed, participated in the traditional naked run through the house, donned a frilly nightgown, and lingered over a Lumberjanes book for a good twenty minutes. It was time for bed, and Edward was determined to do it right this time.
"We're going to sing the bedtime song, and then you're going to go to sleep here in your bed. Okay?"
"Tay."
"All right. Lie down. Good."
She made him sing the song three times. When she requested a fourth, he figured it was time to put his foot down.
"No, that's all. It's time for bed." He tucked the blankets around her and kissed her forehead.
"Goodnight, Alice."
"Nye-nye."
He stood up and headed for the door, and Alice scrambled out of bed to follow him.
"No. Get back in your bed."
When she ignored him, he picked her up and set her back on her mattress. "Lie down. It's time to go to sleep."
"Seepishoo."
"No, you can't sleep with me. You're not a baby anymore."
"No! A-notta beebee. Diss yun yaidy."
"Exactly. And young ladies sleep in their own beds."
"No. Seepishoo."
"You can't sleep with me anymore."
"Yes."
It was amazing to him how little she cared about what he was trying to tell her. But he was determined to hold firm, so he eased her back on her pillow and pulled the blankets up to her chin. "Goodnight."
"Nye-nye."
He walked away again, and once again she crawled out of her bed and followed him.
"No. Back in bed." He picked her up and put her in bed again.
She shook her head. "Seepishoo."
"You can't sleep with me."
"Yes. Hattoo."
"Jesus Christ." He was making no progress at all. "Okay, how about this? I'll stay with you for a little while. Okay?"
"Tay."
He tucked her in again and then stretched out on the floor beside the bed. Which was just great. A hard floor. If he was going to do this often, he'd have to look into getting some sort of padded mat to store under her bed.
Alice wriggled out of bed and lay down on the floor next to him.
"No. Alice, come on. You have to sleep in your bed."
"Seepishoo."
He sighed. "Fine. I'll get in your bed with you, okay?"
"Tay."
He put her back in bed and then tried to wedge himself in next to her. It was even worse than the floor. The bed was far too short for him, so he had to curl up into a very uncomfortable position, and Alice snuggled right up against him before he was in any kind of sustainable situation.
"This sucks," he muttered.
"Sutts," Alice agreed happily.
But he stayed. He really needed Alice to get used to the idea of sleeping in her bed, and if this was the first step, so be it. Patience wasn't exactly his primary virtue, but he forced himself to wait. This was crucial. He stayed until Alice's breathing deepened and her little body felt warm and heavy against his, and then he gently eased himself away from her. As soon as he was certain that she was asleep, he tiptoed out of her room and climbed into his own bed.
He had done it. Step number one.
It was less than an hour before a wailing Alice woke him up, clapping a hand against his closed bedroom door. Edward sighed and trudged out of bed to the door. He picked her up and carried her back to her bed, which she didn't like, but he lay down with her and rubbed her back until she finally drifted off again.
He crept back to his room once again, and crawled into bed.
Twenty minutes later, she was back, crying outside his door. He picked her up, took her back to bed, and soothed her back to sleep.
A half hour later, she was awake again and crying so hard that her face turned red and he worried that she wasn't taking in enough air. He gave up and carried her to his own bed. It took at least ten minutes to settle her down this time, but finally he convinced her that she would be allowed stay with him for the rest of the night. He coaxed her back to sleep and then rolled his face into his pillow and muttered, "Fuck."
