Perspicuous (J.HALE)

01

The weather was beautiful.

Sun flooded in through the windows and laced everything in gold, the occasional wisp featherlight cloud drifting across the sugared-blue sky. I propped the laundry basket up on my hip as I walked across the lawn, shaking the box of pegs that had been used to clip the clothes onto the drying line as I hummed. The radio was on in the kitchen, and despite my drowsiness, I did a little dance on my way inside.

Aunt Meg was on the phone, probably to Emily. I slipped past her as she gestured wildly, telling a story with additional, exaggerated dramatics, and moved into the living room towards Paul. He was sat on the sofa, rocking gently from side to side and staring down at the sleeping baby in his lap, clasping its little hands between the tips of his pinched fingers.

"Enjoying yourself?" I asked quietly, putting the basket down on the coffee table.

He grinned at me. "I was trying to bond, but he fell asleep."

I wrinkled my nose and smiled a little. "He does that a lot."

"Absolutely no manners," he said, shaking his head.

I swept my hair up into a bun and began folding the clothes in the basket. I had to call Alice. Since Bella and Edward had announced their engagement and asked me to be a bridesmaid at the wedding, I found myself having to keep track of the colour schemes, the flowers, the rehearsal walk-through, and send over my measurements every week so that Alice could keep track of what size dress I would need. My body was still changing four weeks postpartum, attempting to find a steady medium between the size I'd been before and the size I'd grown to while I was pregnant.

Jake was gone. My stomach coiled up when I thought about it, but the moment that invitation to the Swan-Cullen wedding slid through his letterbox, he took off. I couldn't really blame him for it—he was hurting. I still missed him, though. Plus, he left me one babysitter down.

Ethan hiccupped himself awake and spluttered, my eyes immediately on him. I crouched down in front of Paul and pressed a kiss to Ethan's forehead. His face crinkled up for a moment but then relaxed into gormless wonder, huge blue eyes staring up at me. His hair, just as vividly ginger as my own, was thicker than anyone had expected, and stuck out from his head in little tufts.

"I just love him so much," I murmured, looking up at Paul a little helplessly. "I don't know what to do with myself."

Paul pressed his lips together and gently wiggled Ethan's little arms. "He is pretty cute."

It was quite funny, watching Paul interact with a baby. He was so cartoonishly massive, bulky and tall and imposing, and yet, with Ethan, his movements could almost be described as dainty. He took such care and moved with such caution; it could have been likened to ballet.

He'd cut his hair. I liked it. It suited him more than the shaggy waves he'd had before. Cropped close to his scalp was cleaner and matched the angles of his face.

"Your mum's being a creep," Paul said to Ethan as he caught me staring.

"Don't feed such lies to my child," I scolded. "He might actually believe you."

"Would you blame him?"

I didn't answer.

"Hello, children," Meg sighed, sweeping into the room in a swish of paint-spattered overalls and wild curls.

"Hey, Meg," Paul greeted, craning his neck so he could look at her without disturbing the baby.

"Was that Emily?" I asked.