Failures and Firsts

December 26

It was the night after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Or a large, mammoth of a dog, for that matter.

I lay in bed, Bella beside me, tucked up against my side just like she was supposed to always be. The light from the moon filtered in through the window and spilled across her bare back.

So beautiful. The most wonderful gift I never deserved.

I should have been able to hear the quiet sounds of her soft, relaxed breathing. But I could hear only one thing. The thunderous snoring of the beast down the hall in my son's room. Even through two solid wood doors and the fifteen feet of hallway that separated us I could still hear him. It sounded like a chainsaw trying to chew through steel girders.

I'm getting up first thing in the morning and heading to Home Depot to buy thicker fucking doors. This is ridiculous.

I shifted onto my side and pulled Bella closer. We were sharing a pillow, so I took one of the others and tried to use it as an earplug; cramming it into my ear canal as best I could. The damn pillow wouldn't cooperate, and I eventually gave up and just covered my head with it. I added ear plugs to the ever growing mental shopping list for the next morning. I wondered to myself if BreatheRight strips worked on canines. Hell, at this point I was willing to try anything and everything.

While I waited for exhaustion to overtake the annoying droning of the peacefully slumbering dog, my mind drifted back over the past month. Back through the holidays with Bella and my family. Thanksgiving and Christmas were wonderful, and even though the Ex-bitch had made good on her threat to return to town, things had been Norman Rockwellesque. Well, as close to Rockwell as my family could get.

~oOo~

November 28- Thanksgiving

Our family fucking loved the holidays. Every single one of us. You might not have guessed that a clan of chopper building/riding heathens would go ape shit over some turkey and giblets, but just say "gravy" around that crew and you ran the risk of losing an arm. Especially if Emmett was around. Now that we'd added Bella to the mix it was a money back guarantee that this was going to be a Thanksgiving to remember. That's not to say that everything went smoothly. Hell no! Not in the Cullen clan. It was as bumpy as Emmett's infamous mashed potatoes. Oh, wait. I think the word I'm looking for is lumpy, not bumpy. But you get my damn point. Things were nutso.

Dad insisted on a fried turkey in addition the traditional roasted one Mom made every year, and insisted on frying it himself. Mom told him he'd be doing it outside. Good thing she did, too, 'cause he'd have burnt the house down. One minute the bird was simmering away in its hot grease bath, and the next it was a fully engaged fire that brought the fire department screeching out to our house. They laughed saying they could see the smoke from two miles away. Poor Dad, he was so disappointed; he looked like someone had shaved all the hair of his My Little Pony dolls. And the only way I know anything about that shit was 'cause Em and I did it to Alice's when we were kids. She had her revenge, though, when she shaved our heads a few weeks later after slipping us sleeping pills into the "Milkshakes of Peace" she made. She was eleven. It took us years before we would steal food off her plate, much less eat or drink something she made herself. She was a troll.

Once we sent the fine men and woman of the PVFD back to Station 11 with a good laugh and a story to add to the list of many stories about the Cullens they had accumulated over the years, we finished preparations for dinner and moved to the back porch where the women had set up an amazing table. It looked like Martha Stewart had set that shit up! Turns out that's what Bella's friends from Washington called her, the "Martha Stewart of the Pacific Northwest." I found myself sporting inappropriate wood thinking about her in an apron and heels and nothing else. I made a mental note to buy her a see through apron for later and started thinking of less pleasant things. We were still laughing about Dad's pyrotechnic skills, and threatened to nickname him "Fire Walker" as we sat down to dinner.

"Hey, I like it, old man! It could be like, your Indian name!" Masen was bummed that Rose has declared that this year we would not be dividing into "Pilgrims" and "Native Americans." "It stinks that we aren't doing that this year. I had my name picked out and everything!"

"What would have you used for your name, Mini?" I asked, curious about what had him all excited. We'd only done away with the tradition thinking he was getting too old for it. Apparently we were wrong.

"Runs with Mammoths," he announced proudly. We all fought to hide our amusement, but it was a losing battle. We all broke out into fits of laughter. Plate by plate the food was passed around. Emmett was the most amused out of all of us. His laughter could be heard above everyone else's. "What's so funny, Silent Butt Deadly?" Mini demanded. Emmett looked around.

"You talking to me?"

"Yeah, I'm talking to you. Or should I call you Uncle Silent Butt Deadly? 'Butt's' spelled with two t's, by the way." My son glared over the sweet potato casserole at his uncle seated across the table.

"SBD will do just fine, thanks."

We went around the table, giving one another Indian names. Mom was "Cooks with Heart," Rose's was "Shoots First, Asks Questions Later," Jazz was "Whispering Wind," (I had no idea why the hell that was his name, but Alice named him and refused to tell us her reason. It's probably best we didn't know her reasons.) Bella was "Trumpeting Swan," which I thought was very fitting. Alice was "Bottom Woman on the Totem Pole," and my name ended up being "Angry Badger." I was a little offended at first, then Bella called me on my shit.

"What's the matter, Edward? It's true. You do have a tendency to look all badger-y at times. It's just a game, baby! Don't take this so seriously. Loosen up!" She kneaded my shoulder with one hand and slyly reached under the table for the buldge in my pants with the other. She was evil. I leaned over to her and motioned for her to come closer and whispered so only she could hear, "You keep that up and I'll be shoving that 'angry badger' in your 'den'."

The little hell cat just stared me right in the eye and replied in hushed tones, "Oh, really?" Her hand slid lower, cupping and gently squeezing the twin goods that rested between my thighs. I jumped and may have squealed. May have. All eyes darted to Bella and me.

"Everything okay over there, Squeaks?" my oh-so-concerned brother inquired. Asstard.

"We're just fine, Nosey Nancy. How 'bout you go back to gnawing on that turkey leg you're fisting?"

A truce was called, well, a few were, actually. Mom made Em and me behave, and Bella released her torturous hold on my family jewels. The conversation turned to our favorite family topic: humiliation. Mini was the unfortunate subject this time. The wolves descended and pounced on the kid like a pack of rabid dogs. He took it all in stride, laughing and poking fun at himself. You had to have a thick skin to survive in this family. Emmett was catching hell, too. Mom was telling Bella about our long standing relationship with the PVFD, starting with the first time they were called when Emmett got his humonsterous head stuck between the spindles on the banister. He was four, and Dad was out of town. Mom called the Fire Department in a panic. They came, lights flashing and sirens blaring. When they walked through the front door they were met with a red faced, screaming toddler. With the help of good old fashioned butter they were able to pry his huge head from the railing. This story always had Mini in tears laughing, and this time was no exception.

"Shut it, pipsqueak. You have no room to talk, Mr. Boy in a Box," Emmett reproached.

"Hey! I wasn't even two! You were twice as old as I was, and it was an accident!" Mini argued with the man who was twelve times his size and half his age, maturity wise.

"What happened, Mini?" Bella's genuine concern touched me and had me marveling at my luck for the tenth time that day.

"Grandma Esme tells the story best. That is, if Uncle Big Mouth can keep his trap shut for five minutes," Masen challenged. "He has a little problem with interrupting," he mocked whispered.

"Whatever, Mini. You love me."

"Only because Grandma makes me." Mini stuck his tongue out at his uncle in a rare display of immaturity.

"Don't stoop to his level, love," Mom's gentle chiding made all but one of us chuckle. The other protested with an exuberant, "Hey!" Mom eyed each of us pointedly and warned, "I'll tell the story if you all promise to behave, and Emmett, you have to eat all your vegetables."

"I am not five! I do not need to be reminded to eat my veggies like a baby."

"Baby?" Rose interrupted his childish rant.

"Huh?”

"Eat your vegetables."

"Yes, dear."

"Mom, you were saying...." Rose's attention went back to her plate and Mom went on with the story of how my son became infamous throughout the county.

"Masen was almost two. We were redecorating the nursery we have here to better accommodate his toddler needs. I'd found the most adorable box shelves at Target that were perfect for displaying some of his old baby memorabilia. The cutie pie that he is, found them sitting around and put one on his head like a crown. He was so pleased with himself. He kept saying, 'Mam-maw, hat! Mam-maw, hat!'

"He got so excited that he started jumping up and down yelling hat over and over again. That is until his 'hat' fell down around his neck.

“At first he laughed. It was cute and awfully funny. Until he tried to take it off and it wouldn't slide up over his ears-"

"That's 'cause he had Dumbo ears when he was a squirt," Em taunted, unable to resist.

"Shut it, son." Mom's no nonsense voice could cut through bone, and even my tard of a brother knew when to not push his luck. Everyone else just listened as they worked to eat their way through the mountain of food on their plates. The matriarch continued, "So the box shelf was stuck and after a few gentle tugs it was obvious that it wasn't coming off easily. I remembered the butter trick from before, and carried him into the kitchen where I used every product I had that contained oil. Ten minutes later, I still had a distraught baby with his head stuck in a box, but now he was slathered in butter and very difficult to hold onto.

"Finally I called 9-1-1. I couldn't listen to his poor little cries any more. Once again, the trucks flew to our address. By now, after years of calls and incidents, they knew us by name. It was a reunion of sorts. Four engines and one ambulance responded to the call. One by one they filed in. All fifteen of them. It was like a parade.

"They took one look at the buttered baby and asked, 'Is this Emmett's kid?'"

"They remembered him?" It was Bella's turn to interrupt, but no one seemed to mind.

"Yes, they did. But, who could forget Emmett?"

"Point made."

Mom continued, "After a trying to remove it a few times themselves, they finally gave up and went out to the engine for the bolt cutters. I was so nervous as they held him still so they could cut the box off. But they did, and Masen was fine. Those men have rescued my brood more times than I can count. Each year around this time, I make certain to send them copious amounts of baked goods and several DVD's to add to their collection. All in order to be sure they continue to respond to our cries for help. Each time they come out they thank me personally for the care package."

"And that's how Mini came to be known county wide as 'Box Boy' by the rescue workers

of St. Johns County," added Emmett, unable to keep his two cents out of it.

"Pft! I'd rather be known as 'Box Boy' than by your nickname, Uncle Em!" My son could dish it out as well as my brother could.

"Whatever, Box Boy. And shut it!"

"Why? You don't want it to get out there that guys call you 'Pickle Pecker'?"

Oh, lord! I thought, it’s started!

Jazz joined in the family fun, picking up a small sweet pickle from where it rested on his plate and waved the tiny condiment in the air as he recited the infamous family rhyme, “‘Emmett picked a peck of pickled peckers,’ try saying that five times fast!” The rest of the table joined in the fun, all trying to see how many times they could repeat the retarded saying over and over before getting all tongue twisted. All but Mom and Bella, that is. Things were starting to get out of hand, and as the table dissolved into fits of laughter, Jazz was trying to get enough air to explain the embarrassing story of how our brother got the nickname.

Thankfully Bella ended it. "Hush!" She threw her hands up in the air in the universal signal for 'stop!', "As much as I relish Emmett's humiliation, I don't want to hear this story! Some skeletons belong in the closet. I'm thinking this is one of those skeletons. New topic, please!"

The rest of the dinner went much the same way. Us trading stories and sharing our lives with Bella. By now, after having spent several Sundays with our motley crew, she was used to our antics. By the time the desserts were devoured we had all melted into tear streaked laughter. And by the end of the night Bella's place was firmly cemented in our family.

~oOo~

It was supposed to be a quick ass trip to Home Depot, but apparently that wasn't in the cards. Emmett, Jasper, Mini, and I were hustling through the aisles of lumber and hardware supplies. The smell that defines all that is masculine and manly practically smacked you in the face as you walked in the door, it was so strong. Pine, poplar, maple, paint, PVC pipe, and gasoline, mixed along with who the hell knew what else to make up that distinct smell.

Divide and conquer. Jazz took Mini off to find the PVC we needed to fix the busted pipe in his and Alice's condo. Apparently, the common residential garbage disposal couldn't digest a turkey carcass, no matter how picked over it may be. Em and I set off to pick up the biggest, most bad assed disposal the Home Depot carried. It was while we stood there debating the pros and cons of the various models that he showed up.

James.

"Hey, there, ladies! Looking for some way to dispose of your poor excuse for balls? You know you could just dig a hole in the back yard. It'd save you a fuckton of money."

We tried to just ignore the dumb fuck. Unfortunately for us, he wasn't interested in being ignored. Huh, who'd have guessed that?

"I'm talking to you two pussies. Is this how you treat an old friend?"

"Fuck off, James. There are no old friends here." I figured it was best to just get the unpleasantries out of the way so we could all get back to our own lives. Who was I kidding? I didn't give a shit about his life. I just wanted as much space between myself and that prick as humanly possible, ASAP.

"Wow, you kiss your momma with that mouth? I bet she'd be disappointed to hear you talking like that."

"Do not speak of our mother, you waste of space. You're the load your mother should have swallowed..." Gotta hand it to my brother, he never was one to mince words.

James moved like he was about to step into Em's personal space, and that's never a good idea. Unless, of course, you happen to be a five foot nine blond, with legs that never quit and a wedding band that matched the one that circled the forth finger of his left hand. My eye sight might not be what it used to be, but that physical description did not match James. Well, maybe the blond part, but that was all. I stood between the two, facing the waste of a perfectly good cum shot and warned, "Get the hell out of here, James. There's nothing here for you. You know better, or did you fall on your head again?"

By this point we were drawing a small crowd, and I could see Jazz and Mini heading in our direction. I grabbed the most expensive disposal and pushed Em back. "Come on, Hoss. Let's get this back to the hacienda." The brick wall I shared genetic material with backed down the aisle.

"I have no clue why the hell you've decided to come back around here, James, but it'd be in the best interest of your general health if you stayed the fuck away from any and all Cullens."

The cock gobbler had the nerve to speak, "Does that include one Bella Swan?"

I felt the anger ball in my chest like a fist. Knowing my son was mere feet away I made a conscious, albeit difficult decision, and turned to follow Emmett, but not before invading his space. "Especially. Bella. Swan."

I couldn't get the hell out of that place and home fast enough. If I never saw that asstard again it would be too soon.

~oOo~

December 8th

I stood in the Eclipse Choppers garage looking at the form of a bike distorted by the tarp that had been tossed over it. Bella's bike. The one I'd finished a month ago. The one that we had, well... fucked on, to put it bluntly. I'd intended to give it to her as soon as it was finished, but the more I thought about it the more I worried that it wasn't the right timing. So, two weeks ago I'd given up and rolled it to a back corner of the garage where it'd be safe from the accidental bump or scrape, and covered it with a tarp to further protect the fuck awesome paint job. It was apple red, the color perfectly reflecting that of a humble offering of an adoring student to his beloved teacher. To complete the adoration, I'd had her name painted on the tank in elegant calligraphy to match the tattoo over my heart. The chopper was all red and chrome and beautiful. And sitting in a back corner in my garage.

Christmas. I'd give it to her for Christmas. Maybe. Alice had warned me that Bella would have problems accepting the gift the moment she saw the the bike plans. But did I listen? Nooooooo. Sure my girl had two hogs in her garage already, and sure she had not one but two kick ass sports cars, but was that enough to convince me that she didn't need one of my bikes? The answer to that question would be a resounding hell no. She may have all those other toys, but she did not have an Eclipse Chopper. Yet. But come Christmas she would. Maybe. If I grew a pair and got up the courage to give her the damn thing.

The distinct ding of a text sounded from the depths of my jeans' pocket. I reached around behind me to fish out my iPhone. Before I could get to it and check the screen it chimed twice more. Damn, someone's impatient!

I read the display announcing that I had three unread texts- all from a one "Dr. Swan." I'd changed her name in my contacts after that little conversation we'd had about her Ph. D.

Hey, baby. How are things at the shop today? I was thinking about stopping by on my way home. ~B

Maybe, if things are quiet around there, we could find time to reenact the last visit I made to Eclipse... ~B

....Or not. OK, I guess you're busy. Call me when you have time. I love you. ~B

I was mentally kicking myself for having missed her texts. I shot her a response to all three of her texts. There was nothing quick about it:

Love- Things have been a little crazy around here, but good. You are always welcome to come here anytime you wish. You never need an invite. You have no idea how badly I want to reenact that little visit you paid me, alas the shop is swarming with every employee on the payroll. Christmas rush has us buried under piles of orders. But PLEASE come by. I'd love to see you. -E

Bella's reply was almost instantaneous.

I'll be there around 3:30 and I'll just bring Mini home with me. I have a surprise for you. ~B

Man, I do love a good surprise.

Surprise, huh? Can't wait! And thank you for bringing the rugrat. I love you. -E

No, problem! And- I love you, too. ~B

My heart swelled reading her words . It was then that one of my front desk clerks came bursting in through the door that connected the garage from the store front where we sold all kinds of merchandise. The clerks rarely came to the back, unless there was a problem with a customer. Even then, they'd usually page one of us to the front to handle the situation.

This can't be good... I thought to myself. I thought right.

"Hey, Edward? There's a woman out front demanding to see you," Gianna did not look the least bit amused. "I told her you were busy, but she insisted. Said you would make time for her."

I could only imagine who stood on the other side of that door. I considered not stepping through it to find out; then I heard her shrieking at Ben, one of our best salesmen.

"I don't give a damn if this is a busy time for this little scooter shop! I drove all the way out here to the beach to see Edward Cullen and I demand to see him! Now take your scrawny ass back there and tell him his wife is here to see him!"

Oh, hell no! Who the fuck does she think she is? She will not come into my place and start...

Her ear piercing voice cut into my bad ass inner monologue. Hearing her belittle and screech at my employees was all the encouragement I needed to make up my mind. I stormed through the door, shoving it hard against the wall with a loud bang. The Wicked Bitch of the West's head snapped to look in my direction. The look on Ben's face was a mixture of seething hatred for her and sincere condolences for me.

"EX-wife, Jessica. Do not forget that very key detail." Her name dripped from my mouth like bitter venom. This was not what I needed to deal with today.

Her face softened marginally and as her cold, steely eyes met mine I heard her theme song in my head: Evil Woman by Black Sabbath. It had been her song from the moment I first saw her for who she really was: an evil, cold hearted, double timing, game playing, black souled woman. But I'm not bitter. No... not at all. Well, I try not to be. It's just when I think about how much she'd missed out on over the past nine years of my son's life, I can't help it if some of the old bitterness and resentment bubbles to the surface. The thought of Mini coming here soon and possibly finding her here urged me to speed this happy reunion along and get her the fuck out of the shop.

"Ed-die! How are you? You look wonderful! It's been too long...." She sang every word, and the forced sweetness was vomit inducing.

"Jessica. What are you doing here? We didn't expect you in town for another few days." My tone was cool and I managed to avoid her lips when she attempted to stamp my cheek with her blood red lipstick, but had to concede to a brief hug. I could feel her nails dig into my back as I forced space between our bodies.

"Well, that's no way to greet your wife and the mother of your only child after a long separation, now is it?" I looked around the store nervously at the few employees and customers that had gathered to witness the spectacle that was Jessica.

"Again, I have to remind you that the title you hold is ex-wife, not wife. There's a very big distinction, Jessica. What brings you to our little scooter shop today? I hadn't yet alerted the authorities of your impending visit. Looks like I'll need to call them a little sooner than I had anticipated."

Unfazed by my attempt to poke fun at her obvious mental instability, my ex-wife continued talking as if we didn't have a growing audience.

"Edward, I'm surprised at you. This is not how your mother raised you to treat a lady."

"You're entirely correct, Jessica, and when I see one I'll be sure to use my best manners and make my mother proud. Now, what did you want?" I decided to try to get rid of her as quickly as possible rather than take her up to the office. More witnesses equaled less temptation to strangle her with my bare hands.

"Fine, Edward. I can see how this is gonna be. I'd hoped we could start over, but it's obvious that you haven't grown up yet." I felt my hands tense into fists at my sides, willing myself to not lunge at her neck. "I'm in town for ten days to find a place to rent and get a job. That means I'll be here over the holidays like we discussed, and I'd like to see my son while I'm here. I was also hoping you could help steer me in the direction of an apartment and job." My feet moved forward against the order to stay put. Thankfully, I felt the strong hand of my brother on my shoulder. I glanced to my left to see Em glaring ahead at the Wicked Bitch of the West and then to my right to see Jazz doing the same. I stayed put and cleared my throat before answering her.

The voice of reason that resides deep, deep in my head warned: Don't embarrass your mother, Edward. She can still take your ass.

"Jessica. I have no intentions of helping you move to this area. You are a grown woman. You want to live here, well, that's your decision and this community's great misfortune. But it's a free country, so go right ahead and move, just don't call looking for references or bodies to help you move your shit here." You could she her physically bristle at my harsh, but calmly spoken words. Her discomfort did not deter me from what I had to say next. "As for seeing my son, he's been made aware that you will be in town for the holidays and possibly moving here. Masen has been given the choice to decide whether or not he wants to see you. Should he decide that he does want to see you then you will be contacted. Until that time, though, you are not to call, stop by, approach, or speak to him under any circumstances. Is that clear?"

"Excuse me? Are you keeping a mother from her child?"

"You gave that honor and title up nine years ago. Do not try to reclaim them now. I believe we're finished here. You know where the door is, I assume, seeing as that's how you flew in. Oh, and, by the way... I wouldn't hold your breath for a call. You'll end up passing out before you get one."

With that I turned and walked away from the woman who walked away from me and the best thing that had ever happened to her- my son. As I reached the garage door I heard her call, "You do not have the final say here, Edward. I am that boy's mother, and I will see him. Even if it means me acquiring an attorney to do so."

I spun around to face her and looked straight into her ice blue eyes. "Threats will get you nowhere, Jessica. Don't bother to go to the trouble and expense of an attorney," she looked glib and triumphant... for a brief moment, until I finished my statement, "I'll simply have mine fax you a copy of the termination of parental rights that you signed over nine years ago." I never moved closer to her, but my voice rose to meet her where she stood, taking up valuable space and air. "'That boy,' as you called him, has a name... my name. He is my son, and my son alone. If you want to see my son then Masen will have to express the desire to see you. But again, I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. He stopped crying for his 'mommy' when she left nine and a half years ago. Go away, Jessica. No one wants you here."

I have no idea what happened after that, other than she obviously left, because I wasn't called back to deal with any more of her stupid shit. After I had said my piece I stormed back through the garage, narrowly missing my twin sister with the swing of the door I'd crashed through. I was fuming and ranting incoherently. Somehow, Alice managed to steer me up the stairs to the office, closing the door behind us. I'm positive I looked like a madman, with arms flailing and obviously yelling as I marched laps around the small space.

"She has some fucking nerve! Coming into my place of business, making a scene, demanding to see my son, and accusing me of not growing up? Who the hell raised that boy for the past nine years? Who took care of his every need? And who took off traipsing around the country fucking everything on three legs? Haven't grow up yet? Haven't grown up yet!!"

"Calm down, Edward. Don't let her do this to you, she's not worth the wasted oxygen. Just breathe, twinnie. Just take deep, calming breaths."

I tried to do as Alice told me, but as soon as I'd feel myself cooling down I'd remember some asinine thing she'd had the gall to spew and I'd be seething again. I paced that office for twenty minutes trying, and failing, to get control of my emotions with no hope of succeeding without putting my fist through something or someone.

Then she walked through the door. I wasn't the only one to notice, but I was the only one whose world stopped. Okay, so I sound like a pussy, but it's true. Everything just stopped. The shouting-slash-swearing fest that was going down in my brain was instantly silenced. My breath caught in my chest. And my heart.... well, my heart rate increased exponentially, then it slowed down and evened out when someone pointed out to her that I was sequestered up in the office and she began to climb the stairs to me.

The room was instantly filled with her, and her presence calmed me even further. But not before she realized I was upset. Alice excused herself and I tried to explain to Bella the fuckery that went down less than thirty minutes earlier.

"You mean the Ice Queen was here? Just a few minutes ago?" Ice Queen. Ha! Ha! That was a good one!

"I like that one, baby. I'll have to remember that the next time she and her cold heart shows up. But let's hope that won't be any time soon."

"She sounds horrible, Edward. How did you ever marry her? And how did such a sweet kid come from that vile womb?"

"There's a reason we call her a ’witch,’ namely because she worked her evil voodoo on all of us. She had us all fooled. As for Mini? I have no clue. That child is a true miracle."

"So are you. You know that, right? You are my miracle."

I crossed the office to where she stood. She was looking down at her hands that were nervously tangled together. At that moment I wanted them tangled in my hair so deeply that I might need to shave my head just to get them free. My hands cupped her partially hidden face, lifting it to look in the eyes. I looked at her for a moment, just taking her in. I needed to pull her into my reality.

"You are our miracle, Bella," I kissed her once, chastely, and then nuzzled that soft spot below her ear. She moaned in response to the sensation and fisted the cotton of my polo. The sound went right to my crotch and I replied by kissing the aforementioned soft spot before moving up to work the shell of her ear. My hands had moved south, discovering the soft flesh of her breasts and were shamelessly groping her.

"Edward," she rasped to the air around us, "Are you sure you want to do this here, now? 'Cause if you start this you better sure as hell finish it."

I answered her by moving my mouth's attention to her neck, then her collar bone. One hand got adventurous and moved to the curve of her ass, squeezing when it arrived. Bella gasped. Her leg came up and hooked over my hip, pulling our lower halves closer. I pushed against her letting her feel me and what I wanted to give her. I was overcome with an intense urgency to replace the earlier incident with a more positive one. I needed to feel her like this, to reconnect with the woman I loved in order to convince myself, yet again, that I was worthy of this love she so willingly offered. Though I knew I never would be.

"No, Bella, I don't want to do this here. I want to take you home, strip you bare, and touch every inch of you. But, for now, here will suffice."

I was relieved when her hands went right to where I had wanted them: my hair.

Just as things were getting warmed up, Em walked in on Bella and me making out like two horny as hell teens. Of course he wasn't fazed in the least by the state of skewed clothing and toussled hair. He simply flashed that smart ass smirk of his as he leaned into to "whisper" to my girlfriend whose ass was firmly gripped in one hand and left her breast in the other: "No worries, baby, I'll just let you two get back to playing "Yankey the Wankey." Bella, not one to take Em's shit, never said a word to the tard. She simply flicked him soundly on the ear. "Fuckity, Jelly Belly! What is it with you and ears?"

"Don't mess with me, little man. I still owe you. Now turn around and walk out the same way you came in, and if you know what's best for you and those windsails you call ears, you won't breathe a word of what you saw in this office. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good boy."

We watched him retreat, but the moment was lost. As we untangled ourselves, I recalled her earlier text promising me a surprise. And, I think we've established that I love surprises. Well, ones that don't involve either my ex-bitch or asstard brother, of course.

"So?" I prompted her, unsuccessfully.

"So...?"

"So, where's my surprise?" She looked entirely confused, so I pulled out my phone to jog her memory. She read her text and began to giggle like a school girl. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," her attempt to convince me of the 'nothing' she was laughing at was pathetic, and I told her as much, "Well, it's just that you look so excited about this surprise, but I doubt you'll be nearly as excited once I tell you what it is."

Oh, lord. I did not like the way that sounded, I doubted I could take a third shittastic surprise that day. I braced myself for the worst and told her to "hit me."

"Okay, so I found out some interesting intel at school today...," I cocked my head towards her to encourage her to spill the fucking beans already. "It would seem that our man-child has a 'girlfriend'."

"Mini? He has lots of girl friends. I don't see where this is either intel or a surprise." I was not amused by this non-surprise.

"No, Edward. He has a girlfriend. As in: 'Masen and Eleanor, sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-'"

"Stop! Wait! Don't finish that. Are you telling me that my ten year old son has a girlfriend?"

"Yes, Captain Obvious, I am. And in case you missed it, her name is Eleanor. He calls her Ella. Is that not the cutest thing ever?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Like, fucking 'bunnies in boiling water' cute."

My Bella wrapped her arms around me and pressed a kiss to my chest. I felt its warmth seep through my work polo, and soak through my skin to my heart. Yep, me, Edward Cullen equals pussy. Shut it.

"Baby, chill. It's a little crush, and it's adorable. Don't you remember your first crush?"

"Yes, she also happened to be my first kiss..."

"Aw, how sweet!"

"And my first ex-wife."

"Oh. Not so sweet. Wait.... first? There's more than the bitch?"

"No. I was just trying to make a point."

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about Ella, she's a sweetheart, and she's way too young to be anyone's ex-wife. Relax, babe."

She guided me to my desk chair and moved to massage my shoulders. Before I knew it, details of "The Great Divorce" began tumbling from me. To Bella's immense credit, she remained silent as I shared some of my darkest memories.

"She had an affair- Jessica. It wasn't enough that she wanted out, but the bitch couldn't wait until she was out to start something new. And with my best friend, at that. It crushed me. Not only had she betrayed the scared sacred vows of our wedding day, but she was so willing to throw away everything we had together: the family we shared, our home, our love, our son... I was crushed. I honestly don't remember much about the first few days after she left. I just remember her being there one moment and gone the next. She never once called to check on her baby, not even to let us know she was alive and well. It was as if she hit a reset button the second she walked out that door, her suitcase in tow.

"Had it not been for Masen, I don't know what would have happened to me. He saved me when no one else could. I got up in the mornings to care for him, and nothing else. Any semblance of happiness or joy was his making. His love, it touched me when nothing mattered. I'd thought I was a man when I married that woman, but the truth was, it took a tiny baby, many sleepless nights, smelly diapers, tears, and boundless, unconditional love to transform me. I grew up for him. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."

I turned to face her, pulling her to me and resting my head against her soft curves, "That is, until you came along." I felt and heard her chuckle at my admission.

"Please, as if I could compete with the man-child."

I turned my head so that I was looking up at her, and tugged her closer to me. She obliged, soothing me with the feel of her fingers in my hair.

"Bella, I'm serious. There is only one person in my life I cannot live without besides my son, and that's you. There is no competition. You hold equal standing in my heart and in my priorities. The two of you are my pillars; you ground me."

"Who was it, Edward? Who did Jessica leave you and Masen for?"

"It was James."

"Wait- James? Icky, asshole James from Alice's Halloween party?"

"The one and the same."

"And that skeevy prick had the nerve to show his face around your family? He must have some sort of death wish. He has met Emmett, right?"

"Yes, dear. We were all very close. He was like a brother to all of us. But he was obviously much, much closer to my wife."

"Ex-wife, love." She gently reminded me that was in the past. Once again she was anchoring me. Her voice was so low I had to strain to hear what she said next.

"You ground me, too, Edward. You remind me what is truly holding me to this planet. Sometimes I feel it's the weight of the past pulling me down, but then I see you, hold you, think of you, and that pull that was crushing me, suffocating me becomes freeing and purposeful. You and that tiny clone of yours give me two very important reasons for existing. God knows I don't deserve either of you, but I'm trying to."

Her words broke me. Not worthy? How could she think that? We were the unworthy ones.

Speak for yourself, Cullen. Mini deserves every wonderful thing that comes his way, especially Bella.

I was suddenly very aware of our surroundings, and while we were alone, my garage was not where I wanted to have this conversation. I pressed a chaste kiss to her hip, where I knew her guilt manifested itself in physical form: her tat.

"Let's get outta here, baby. You coolio with that?" She giggled and playfully ruffled my hair. I stood and wrapped her in a proper hug.

"You looked so much like your son just now. You have to know that I'd follow you anywhere, Edward. Just lead the way."

"I love you, Isabella Swan. And you are worthy." She breathed her reply into my neck.

"I love you, too, Edward Cullen. And so are you."

~oOo~

Chapter15 Chapter17