DaPK Outtake 2 - Through His Mother's Eyes

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Outtake #2 - Through His Mother's Eyes

Esme POV

And you want me to kiss you after that? No way, baby. That's just … yuck. I love you, but no.

Did Edward just …?

I glance at Carlisle, who's turning a bright shade of red. He gasps, trying to catch his breath after choking on his iced tea, and I realize that, yes, yes he did.

Oh, my.

Another quick glance at Carlisle and it doesn't take but a second to realize that he's not so much shocked by the words themselves, but that Edward's said them out loud … in front of me.

I file that away to ponder later, adding it to the list of other things like cookies, containers, Edward's sudden love for texting all the time, and a son that was way too eager to go back to school.

I look at Edward. My eyes water and my heart, well, it fills as I watch him grin at Bella and hear her sweet giggle in return.

His eyes shine and his smile … I'm not sure I've ever seen him smile so big or be so happy. Not ever.

My son is in love.

Can't say I saw this coming, especially since the little sneak didn't bother to inform me of exactly who our mystery guest was going to be. It makes sense now, I suppose, but that sure doesn't mean I'm not going to make him suffer just a little bit for keeping something as big as this from me. He has a girlfriend, and not just any girl … the girl from the looks of things.

Bella Swan.

Wow … just wow.

"So, Bella, I imagine it's taken a little while to get used to all the rain up here as compared to Phoenix. Did you ever spend much time in the desert? I hear it can get quite cold at night, even in the summer. I've always wanted to see a Saguaro cactus," Carlisle, ever the inquisitor, asks after a few minutes have passed.

Bella nods her head and smiles at Carlisle before answering him. "Oh, yeah, the rain's been a little hard to deal with, but it's not bad. It's the cold and the damp more than anything that are the hardest. In Phoenix, everything was always so dry, dusty. Mom was always complaining about it. She'd say as soon as she dusted, she'd need to do it again, because all it did was come right back." Her smile falls and her bright eyes dim with the mention of her mother.

Edward leans over and whispers something in her ear and gives her a quick kiss on her cheek before he starts talking again, deftly changing the subject. It takes her a moment to rejoin the conversation. She hangs her head for a few seconds, eyes closed and a wrinkle in her forehead. She bites her bottom lip, as if she's trying to hold something in, then she slowly takes a deep breath before raising her head. Edward's eyes immediately find hers and the love and concern that pour out of them makes my heart stutter in my chest.

My sweet, amazing boy.

Carlisle asks Bella about school and she and Edward begin telling him about the first book they have to read for English class.

After all I've heard about her, both from my husband and the rather nosy and opinionated women in town, I have to say Bella's not at all like I imagined. She's beautiful, not that it's important, though I'm quite sure my son doesn't mind. She was obviously nervous when she walked through the door a little while ago, but looking at her now, laughing at my husband and teasing Edward, you'd never know it. She's charming and sweet, and judging from the moans I heard from Carlisle earlier when he thought he was being stealthy, a very talented baker. She's polite and respectful. She very clearly cares about my son a great deal. I didn't expect that either, to be honest, considering I assumed I'd be dining with someone I've known since they were in elementary school.

I'm definitely not on my game because I really should have known that he wasn't bringing home just anyone. He's never brought a girl home before. Ever. Not that he's been a hermit or anything, but Edward has always been on the fringes, watching, a part of things, but he's always held himself back. Between his love of music and his dedication to soccer, it's not surprising, even though it has caused me more than a few sleepless nights, wondering, worrying as moms are prone to do.

Is he happy?

Should I be concerned he's never had a serious girlfriend?

What is he going to do when high school is done and he has to go out on his own?

Will he be ready?

Will I?

Is he going to destroy my pool while we're gone?

On and on and on sometimes.

I worry. It's a mother's right and part of the job description before your child is even born.

To prove my point about my sorely lacking instincts even further, I realize as my eyes continue to slide to Edward and Bella, that he's been different all week. Thinking farther back, he's been different since we got back from Alaska. Lighter … freer even, definitely more focused. I know he enjoyed his freedom while we were away and was looking forward to going to camp so that could explain part of it. But more than anything he was …

Happy.

Truly, supremely happy.

Again - oh, my.

Pieces continue falling into place, the picture becoming clearer.

Conversation flows and though I nod and smile when I'm supposed to, even interject and add a few comments here and there, mostly I watch.

I watch the way Edward leans toward Bella, even as he talks to Carlisle. I notice how when Carlisle brings up what Edward thinks might be a sensitive subject, his eyes are immediately on Bella, making sure she's okay. The way he touches her, looks at her, smiles at her … it's plain to see that their relationship is more than a few days old. A lot more than a few days. It's not just Edward either - it's Bella as well. Her cheeks flush when Edward looks at her, her eyes brighten, her smile is only for him. She draws strength from him. It's in the way she leans toward him and breathes him in, as if sharing the same air and holding it inside her body somehow makes it easier to breathe.

It's so much, so soon … too soon?

More things to mull over later.

"Bella, I see Phil's Mariners are headed for the playoffs. Are you planning on attending any of the games?" Carlisle asks and tries to unobtrusively add another scoop of macaroni and cheese to his plate.

I quirk my eyebrow at him. He knows better, but he smirks and shovels a forkful in his mouth anyway. And he wonders where Edward gets his penchant for pushing things to the limit, just because he thinks he can get away with it.

The fact they both get away with far too much, frequently, probably doesn't help matters a whole lot.

Bella sort of shrugs at Carlisle's question and Edward's arm stops midway to his mouth as he turns his head to watch at her, looking half-afraid of her answer. "I don't think so. It's hard to be away from …" She lets her voice taper off.

We all know what she means; it's the elephant in the room after all.

I open my mouth to say something to ease the abrupt tension, but of course my words aren't needed. Edward drops his fork, completely ignoring the angry clatter it makes as it bounces on his mostly empty plate.

He twists in his chair so that he faces her. His hands lift and he gently, as if he was cradling the most precious of things, places them on her cheeks.

"Baby," he whispers, totally oblivious to his father and me. The only thing he sees, the only person who matters, is Bella. He tenderly brushes the tears off her splotchy cheeks and then leans forward and kisses her forehead, once, then again.

My heart squeezes and my own eyes fill with tears. Tears for this beautiful young woman who possesses such incredible inner strength. Whose whole being lights up when she looks at my son. Who has been nothing but gracious and grateful, even in the midst of all she's lost. Tears for my son who has suddenly, and right before my eyes, turned from boy to man. Who has taken everything his father and I have taught and modeled by example, and shared it with someone who is more than worthy of his exceptional heart.

"Esme, are you okay, sweetheart?" Carlisle asks from across the table, as I splutter and gasp while I choke on the sudden rush of emotion bubbling its way up my throat. I wave him off, but he holds my gaze for a few moments, long enough for us to have a silent, meaningful conversation.

Our boy's in love, his eyes tell me.

Our boy's finally found his way, mine tell him back.

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