A few minutes later Esme reappeared with a mug of warm tea. Margaret thanked her and was then led upstairs to rest. Jasper and Maggie came to a halt by a door. When it opened, Jasper took in how she looked around, marveling over the view of the trees wet with rain, the soft green walls, and the books all over the desk, shelves, and bed. Jasper noted how her fingers wrapped around the mug, absorbing its warmth. It was an old habit she had had even when they first met, wrapping her fingers protectively around the things she held, as if someone were to snatch them away. Though when they got together, that habit was left behind. Jasper couldn't help but feel sorry for her, he had no idea what she could've felt when she received the telegram that thought him dead. He moved towards the desk, picking up books and papers, and organizing the room a little bit.
"Sorry, for the mess." Jasper started as he placed the books from the bed back on his bookshelf.
"I like your mess, it tells me about you," Margaret replied, almost in a trance. That was what she used to tell him when he stayed up late working with papers flooding his desk. It touched Jasper deeply, plucking the strings of his mating bind, almost begging to be settled. He managed a laugh as he unmade the bed, lifting the covers for Margaret to settle into.
"What has it told you about me?" He inquired, watching closely as she knelt on the bed and sunk into a spot between pillows. Then, her body began sliding down until she was laying. The same unusual steps she took to get into bed all those years ago. Jasper would never tire of seeing her doing all of those things that were just her. Jasper felt he could simply admire her for the rest of his life and never grow tired.
"That you work too much." She concluded, happily sipping her tea. Jasper hummed in contempt.
"Rest now, I'll wake you in the morning." He took the mug from her hands and began to leave, but Margaret stood, the covers dropping from her shoulders.
"Would you stay?" She offered, and Jasper stood frozen in place, the mug still in his hands. He nodded slowly, then rushed downstairs to leave the mug and got back in a blink. He sat next to her as she drifted to sleep and he watched her. He observed how her chest rose and fell, how her cheeks were flushed, and how her smell would stay in his room for months. Each time she rolled over it hit him like a tidal wave, her smell, her blood, the mating bond, it would fall on him like a ton of bricks, and yet he could only watch her, his heart filled with happiness.
***
The next few weeks went by quickly for Margaret, she had never felt so alive, so herself with friends. Though most of the school still liked Maggie, they looked over their shoulder with disgusted expressions when she sat with the Cullens during lunch. Few were the days Jasper didn't come to school since his revelation, usually, it went down to sunny days where they might be exposed and hunting days.
It was the first day of Christmas break when Jasper Hale knocked on Charlie's front door. Margaret was in the kitchen baking cookies for her father and his coworkers, as they still had to work during the holidays. Christmas carols rang through the air, mixed with the heartwarming scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Margaret dropped the spoon in the bowl she was mixing and shook the flour from her hands, spreading the mixture on her apron. She was washing her hands for the millionth time when she heard the knock.
"I'll get it, Chef Maggie," Charlie informed her, he had been in such a good mood lately. Though he wouldn't say it, knowing that Isabella would come by next year had made him the happiest man on earth. It hadn't occurred to Margaret that another factor that influenced his good mood was the fact that she had begun acting more like herself, few where the days she cried and her nightmares had reduced in great measure. Charlie also enjoyed seeing her go on her 'Girl Trips' as Alice called them, it eased him knowing that she had finally found true friends in Forks, especially with Bella's coming.
"Thanks pops!" Maggie answered, hearing the TV pause and her father stand, dropping his newspaper. He entered the kitchen before going for the door and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Margaret carried on her soft humming and checked the recipe on her laptop as she began spreading the paste on the counter.
Cold air rushed in when Charlie answered the door. He found himself face to face with a young man, with blonde hair up to his shoulders, brown determined eyes, and a bouquet of white tulips in his hands.
"Hello," Charlie huffed, his brows furrowed.
"Oh, hello Mr. Swan." Jasper started, "I'm Jasper Hale, sir." The boy introduced himself, and Charlie recognized him then, he was a son of Dr. Cullen.
"Oh, yes, Dr. Cullen's boy." He hummed, his eyes falling to the bouquet. "Is Maggie expecting you?" He pondered aloud.
"Oh, no sir, I, actually, came to speak to you." He began, stuttering and tripping over his words. Jasper cursed at himself mentally, he had been practicing how to get these words out for days, he couldn't mess this up.
"Well come in." Charlie stepped away, allowing the boy to get inside. He wouldn't deny it, he was surprised by the boy's formality, but he approved of it. Jasper walked to the warmth of the Swan's house, the smell of sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon swirling in the air. But strongest amongst them was her scent. Charlie led him past the kitchen, not even bothering the working Margaret, whose voice was heard softly following the Christmas carols. Charlie took a seat in his usual chair in front of the TV and signaled for Jasper to sit down. "What did you want to talk about, Jasper." He said plainly, most definitely seeing right through him.
"Well, sir." Jasper began with a deep breath. "I have been growing closer with your daughter, as you may well know," he explained, "she's good friends with my sisters, Alice and Rosalie... But I'm not here to talk about them." A sigh escaped his lips as he reorganized his thoughts. "And we're good friends." He went on. "I wanted to ask, Mr. Swan, for your permission to ask Margaret on a date." He blurted out, his eyes never leaving his. Charlie shifted.
"You want to ask Margaret out on a date," Charlie repeated.
"Yes, sir." Jasper nodded.
"And, if she enjoyed her time on that date," Charlie pondered, "what would happen then?" His eyes snapped at Jaspers, fierce and strong.
"I would hope you would consider allowing me to date Margaret," Jasper admitted, his hands tight around the bouquet. "Regularly," He specified. To his relief, Charlie smiled.
"Well, Jasper. Maggie is in the kitchen, baking cookies, but I'm sure she'll be done in no time." Charlie stood, groaning under his breath. He shook Jasper's hand when he stood up.
"Thank you, sir." Jasper smiled. Charlie simply offered him a short smile and wandered off to the kitchen. Jasper followed.
"Hey Maggie," Charlie called from the door. Margaret turned to face him, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her hands white from flour. The sleeves of her Christmas sweater pulled up to her elbows and over it, a pink apron with white polka dots smeared with batter and flour fell right above her knees. Though the apron was messy, the counter was spotless and so were her face and hands, excluding the flour she had spread on them to roll the cookie mix on the counter. The sink was piled with dishes, some done, others in the process, and she was cutting and placing unbaked cookies on a tray, while some were already in the oven. The image sent Jasper back to those days when she baked all day, the same happy smirk on her. "Jasper came by to see you." He informed, his face shifting with a smile as he saw his daughter's face light up like the Christmas lights around the house. Charlie moved from the door, resting against the kitchen counter. Jasper came in after him, a smile on his face.
"Jazz!" Margaret dropped the cookie cutter on the counter and jogged happily towards him, hugging him close, her arms around his neck. Jasper hugged her with one hand and when she parted from their embrace he stopped in the bouquet with the other.
"For you," he almost whispered.
"You're such a sweetheart," she laughed, breathing in the scent of the tulips. "How'd you know these were my favorite?" She asked taking the paper from the flowers and cutting the stems diagonally.
"You said they were during history, once." He reminded her. Her hands placed the flowers on a vase elegantly.
"Thank you," she smiled, her cheeks burning at hearing he remembered. "These will be done in no time, if you want to stay for a while." She informed, pointing towards the oven. Jasper looked over at Charlie for a split second as he began to straighten.
"Yes, stay a while." Charlie offered. "You can go out when I leave for the office if you like." He nodded at her daughter. Margaret looked at both of them, slightly confused.
"Alright then." Jasper nodded, feeling the confusion from Margaret and a relieving calmness from Charlie. He went back to the living room for his newspaper and in those few minutes, Jasper took his chance and walked over to Margaret. "That smells amazing." He stated, leaning over the counter.
"Well, they're not for you." Margaret smiled teasingly as she took a tray out of the oven and placed it in the last one. She began running the water from the sink and did the remaining dishes as the last batch of cookies cooked in the oven.
"Margaret?" Jasper breathed, she looked over at him. With her hair out of her face that way she reminded Jasper of the girl he met back in the Civil War. "Would you go on a date with me?" He asked, almost in a whisper, no more than a breath that fell in between them. The only sound for a second was the running water and the clattering of the last dishes being put away. Margaret was frozen, she was taken by surprise. Her hands reached for the sink and closed the tap, earning silence once again.
"What did you say?" She murmured, looking at him, her eyes shining with hope and her mouth slightly curved upwards. Jasper felt her joy and he took her hands in his, feeling their softness in his.
"Margaret Sawn, would you make me the honor of going on a date with me?" He repeated, his Texan accent slipping through, making Maggie feel over the moon.
"Yes!" She exclaimed with a sigh, throwing her arms around his neck. "Yes, I would love to!" He hummed in his ear. He laughed softly. "Such a gentleman," she mumbled as they parted, her eyes falling on the flowers.
"I'm still a cowboy," he hummed, shrugging his shoulders and earning a laugh from Maggie. Soon after Charlie re-entered the kitchen and took a seat reading his newspaper quietly on the table. Margaret got back to her cookies and Jasper took the seat opposite Charlie on the table.
"Bloody Yankees," Charlie sighed as he opened the paper by the sports section. Margaret was placing the last cookies on a plate and began decorating when she asked, without even turning.
"What's the score?" Charlie mumbled incoherently and then dropped the paper on the table. He looked at his daughter and sighed dramatically.
"Six to five." He looked at her with sorrowful eyes.
"Damn," Maggie sighed, the icing bag in her hands wrinkling as she pressed on it.
"They'll still make it to the finals," Jasper popped in, his face determined as he peeked over the paper. "And they've got good chances of ranking high." He noted, resting comfortably on his chair.
"You bet they will," Maggie replied. "The Cubs can't fail me now, I've got a bet going with Emmett." Her long fingers dropped the decorated cookies inside their Tupperware and some others onto porcelain plates.
"You follow the baseball matches, Jasper?" Charlie asked interest surfacing in his tone.
"Sure do, sir." He replied his irresistible smile back on his face. "And this right here," he pointed at the newspaper, "could turn out just like that one game five years ago." He stated firmly. Margaret had turned to look at him in amazement. "Oh yes, that defeat in 1999 didn't mean the Cubs wouldn't make it to the finals, and get themselves in the podium!" He laughed remembering how his family and him enjoyed those carefree days.
"I hope you're right, son." Charlie hummed, a smile growing on his face. "Well, I better get going kids." He announced, picking up his keys and shoving them in his pocket. Margaret picked up the cookies she had packed for him and rushed towards him.
"Here you go," she kissed his cheek fondly, "don't let the boys finish those okay, save some for yourself." She demanded.
"Will do, Maggs." He declared, and when they embraced, and he had his mouth close to her ear he whispered ever so lightly. "I'm liking him so far." Margaret giggled softly, fully aware that Jasper behind them had heard that.
"Take care pops," Margaret called as she waved her father off. When the door closed Margaret untied her apron and in a second Jasper's strong arms were wrapped around her waist.
"That went well." He hummed in her ear. She laughed again, the warmth of his breath on her neck sending shivers down her spine. Jasper smiled into her neck, earning more giggles from her.
"Okay, now Mr. Cowboy, let me fix myself a little before you take me out." She ordered with sarcasm dripping from her voice. Jasper could get drunk on her expression, that bright smile, and shining eyes.
"You are beautiful." A blush spread around Margaret's face at his words, and she let her hair fall, covering the evidence of her love for him.
"Shut up." She huffed, rolling down the sleeves of her sweater. He waited for her downstairs, as she rushed to the bathroom and washed her hands and face thoroughly. Her hair was combed and she sprayed her favorite perfume around her. It was cold outside, with a threat of snow, which made her decide to go into her room to pick a jacket and gloves. In her room, she caught a glimpse of her reflection as she left, her flushed cheeks bright against the dark chocolate locks which melted with her brown sweater that was printed with tiny white deer. In her purse, she had shoved some white cotton gloves and she held in her hand a black puffer jacket that matched her black straight jeans and boots. The sounds of her feet striking the stairs snapped Jasper out of his trance and his eyes scanned through her. She was quite the view.
"You are beautiful," he repeated the same confidence and smile on him. She smiled now, having to believe his word. She felt beautiful, and for the first time, she felt she deserved to feel that way too. Margaret took her keys and dropped them in her purse as they left through the door.