Picking up the Pieces

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Never, baby. Never," I whispered in the darkness. "Never again."

xx PutP xx

When I woke up, I was being pushed out of the bed. I rolled over, seeing John pressed to my back. Grace was laying perpendicular across us. Her feet were draped over my hips, John's legs and her cheek was pressed against Edward's chest. He was snoring, running his fingers through her hair. I slid out of the bed, adjusting Grace so she was curled against Edward's chest. I went downstairs, picking up my cell phone. I dialed Alice.

"Hey, Bells," she said. "How are you doing?"

"As well as to be expected, Ali," I said, starting the coffee machine. "Edward's, well, he's a total mess. Understandably so. Esme went peacefully and she's not in pain anymore. I hate that she's gone. I hate that my husband has to sleep with his head on my chest so he could hear my heartbeat. He's terrified that I'm going to ..."

"I think you understand his fears, Bells," Alice sighed.

"Anyway, I think it goes without saying that I'm not going to be in. I know that I'm getting close to the end of my sick days," I grumbled. "Also, I'm calling in John and Grace. They'll be back when I'm back."

"Don't even worry about it. The superintendent loves you and if need be, you can make up those days over the summer," Alice replied. "Do you know where the funeral service is being held?"

"Drennan and Ford Funeral Home," I answered. "I don't know what's on tap for today, but as soon as I know, I'll let you know."

"Will do. However, as a staff, you'll be getting some flowers from us," Alice said. "I love you, sweetie."

"Love you, too, Ali," I whispered.

"Give Edward a hug from me," Alice said sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Bells. Esme was a wonderful woman. She shouldn't have suffered as much as she did. If you need anything ... anything ... please, let me know."

"I will, Ali." I hung up the phone and poured myself a cup of coffee before pulling out stuff for breakfast. As I was making pancake batter, I heard tiny footsteps. I looked up and saw John. "Hey, baby. Are you okay?"

"Grace was kicking," John grumped, sliding onto a stool. "Dad held her close, but I was awake. School?"

"You're off so we can be together as a family, like after Daddy died," I replied. "Do you want breakfast? I'm making pancakes."

"I'm a boy. I'm always hungry," John quipped.

"Of course, you are," I snickered. I made pancakes along with bacon. As I was putting the food onto a platter, Edward came down, carrying a sleep-rumpled Grace. "Morning ..."

"She was suctioned to me," Edward said, kissing Grace's forehead. She snuggled closer as he sat down. "And she's hot."

"Grace always runs on the hot side," I said, moving to kiss her. "You okay, baby girl?"

"Yeah," she answered, putting her cheek on Edward's shoulder.

"Sweetie, I'm certain that Edward loves the snuggles, but he can't really eat while he's holding you," I said. Grace pouted but didn't struggle when he put her down. She sat down next John. I put out breakfast and we ate together as a family. Edward's cell phone rang. He kissed the kids, getting up and stepping out of the kitchen, onto the deck. "Guys, are you done?"

"Can I have one more pancake?" John asked.

I nodded before blinking to Grace. "What about you, munchkin?"

"Can I go out with Dad?" she asked, looking out the window to Edward. He was talking on his phone, clearly agitated.

"Probably not, Grace," I answered. "Why don't you go upstairs, get dressed, baby?" She nodded, hopping off the stool. I picked up Edward's coffee. I slipped on a fleece by the door and walked outside. Edward was growling into the phone. I leaned against the window as he paced on the deck. With a snarl, he punched his finger on the phone. He went to throw it. "Hey, stop ..."