Just a normal day at the Cullen house. (Complete fluff. Short, sweet, and cute! You won't understand the title until you get to the end, though.)
Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. *sniffles* The amazing Stephenie Meyer does.
1. A day in the Cullen household.
Rating 3.9/5 Word Count 953 Review this Chapter
I sighed in contentment. Everyone was off doing their own thing.
Renesmee was off with Jacob, helping Quil with Claire. Alice was in the next room – I could see her – on her computer. She was once again designing a fashion line. Jasper and Emmett were wrestling outside. Carlisle was in his study. Esme was in the kitchen trying to decide what color she should paint it next – Alice had suggested a few. Rosalie was painting her nails in the seat next to Alice, looking up once in a while to see what she was creating.
I was sitting on the couch with Edward's head on my lap, stroking his tousled hair gently. He seemed to be dozing, or even sleeping, but, of course, I knew better. I looked towards the television screen to find an interesting show on. I leaned over my resting husband to reach the remote that lay on the coffee table in front of us. He didn't even open his eyes.
I pushed the info button on the remote. I chuckled at what I found.
Vampire Diaries was on. Rose and Alice looked my way curiously. Edward didn't stir.
“Just a show,” I answered their expressions.
“About?” asked Rosalie. She began to blow on her nails. Alice tilted her head to the side, waiting. She didn't bother to look for the future on this one. It was small and she was concentrating on her designs.
“Vampires, apparently,” I replied. They smiled a knowing smile, then returned to their work. I turned it to the next channel. Twilight Zone reruns were on. The good ones. The old ones. I leaned back against the couch.
Edward hadn't said a word, nor moved a muscle. I knew it was silly to worry, but I couldn't help myself. I was a mother and a wife. We worry about our loved ones.
I brushed some his odd-but-beautiful-colored hair off of his pale-but-gorgeous forehead. No movement. I leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. His face kept it's peaceful expression. I sighed, and moved to his lips instead. Nothing.
“Edward . . . Eddie . . . ?” I used a nickname I rarely ever used. I was the only one allowed to call him that, and only did at certain times.
To my extreme relief his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the melted topaz that was his eyes. One side of his mouth lifted into his signature smile.
“Yes, love?” he answered. If I was able to blush, I would had.
“You weren't responding,” I explained. His smile widened and his eyes swam with amusement.
“Were you worried I had gone catatonic?” I flicked his nose with my newly-manicured – Alice . . . - finger.
“Hey!” he yelled. But he was still wearing a smile. He wouldn't get upset about something so small. “That wasn't nice.”
“Neither was not responding to me,” I retorted.
“I didn't think you'd get the notion there was something wrong,” he replied, innocently. Then he turned his face into my stomach and began to rest again. That is until Esme called us.
“Bella? Edward?” she called from the kitchen. Edward hopped off of me, and we stood.
We entered the kitchen – hand in hand – and looked at Esme. She tried not to show how happy and excited it still made her feel to have Edward with someone, but we both saw through her facade. We both smiled at her.
“Edward would you mind going to get the hammer we let you borrow?” she asked. “If you're not quite done with it yet, you can take it back tonight.”
“Of course, Esme,” he replied. I watched him leave. I would never get over how amazing he is how beautiful -
A piece of paper was thrust into my face. Even with it so close I could see the color samples. I took it in my hand and turned to see an over-excited Esme smiling at me. She was bouncing slightly, and you barely ever saw Esme like that. But she loved her projects.
“I've gotten everyone's opinion but yours and Edward's.” she chirped – a little like Alice. “Which color?”
My eyes scanned the paper and fixed on one in particular. I pointed to it. She smiled widely.
I heard the door open and close – it still amazed me how fast that man was. Edward walked into the room and handed the hammer to Esme. She thanked him and gave him the paper, not giving him a chance to say 'you're welcome'. One of his eyebrows raised as he looked.
“Hmmm . . . “ he hummed. “The light violet.” The exact one I'd chosen. Esme began bouncing again. We laughed and left the kitchen together.
As we walked Edward took my hand and spun me around gracefully, as if we were dancing. I happily went along with it.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Edward caught her as she jumped onto him. She laughed sweetly and he raised her in the air and spun around. He then took her to his chest and hugged her.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said. Edward's eyes softened to an amazing level and his smile followed.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Edward looked at me, and pulled me to them. Renesmee reached for my neck and wrapped her tiny arms around it. Edward and I were both holding her, now. She whispered that she loved me and if it was possible, I would have cried.
“Mommy loves you too, baby.” I almost sounded like my own mother. I put my cheek against hers and nuzzled it sweetly. Edward hugged us tighter to his chest.
“My girls,” he whispered.