Indelible

A/N: Here I am and here it is: the final epilogue! Thank you to those of you who have stuck with this since the beginning. Thank you everyone for being so kind and patient, sometimes waiting months between chapters. And to everyone who has reviewed or messaged me: Thank you for taking the time. Sharing your thoughts as you read, or your words of support and encouragement means so much to a writer. It's often what helps us keep at it when our drive or muse goes missing.

Chapter 50: Epilogue – Nineteen Months On…

Angela and I are in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on three baking sheets of Esme's Smashed Potatoes. They're a requisite side dish for all barbecues here at the Cullen household. We're lucky enough to have sunshine on this pretty spring Saturday, but it's still too chilly to eat outdoors. Since remodeling the house, however, we have room enough for everyone inside.

"Bella? The grill's ready," Edward calls from the back porch. He's been out there chatting with Ben while cleaning off and firing up the welcome home gift I bought him two summers ago.

"Okay. Give me one second," I call back, sliding the baking sheets into the oven while Angela starts washing out the potato pot. Picking up the platters of burgers and dogs, I hand them off to Ben when he opens the screen door for me.

I catch a quick glimpse of Fitz, dashing around the backyard with an ancient tennis ball in his mouth. Dottie, the spotted pup the Cheneys rescued a year and a half ago, is in hot pursuit. She's half his size, but they've become fast friends—literally and figuratively. Once the meat starts grilling, I'm sure they'll take up posts on the porch, staring starving eyes at Edward and Ben, hoping some tasty morsels will drop into their greedy little paws.

Although Edward and Ben are keeping an eye on things out back, I take a quick look over to the side of the yard where Masen and his girlfriend, Bree, are keeping the kids entertained. I can see them chatting and laughing while pushing the little bucket tree swing. Satisfied that everyone appears busy and content, I return to start on salad preparations with Angela.

A chorus of laughter drifts in from the backyard only a few moments later. I vaguely hear Masen's voice, followed by Edward's, but I'm really not tuned into what's being said until the screen door opens, and Angela's kids march inside.

"We've got a problem!" twelve-year-old Beth exclaims with a smirk.

"It's not my problem," fifteen-year-old Andy declares, holding his hands aloft in a not-getting-involved gesture.

"What happened?" Angela asks as they slide onto barstools across from us.

Before they can respond, the screen door opens again. Bree's dark eyes are filled with amusement as she steps aside, holding the door open for Masen. He strides in with a grimace, holding the baby out in front of him at arm's length. My eyes flit to Angela's, and I can see she's trying not to laugh. I suspect we're are on the same wavelength, regarding the source of the problem Beth mentioned.

"Uh-oh!" I say, smiling from the baby to Masen.

"Uh-oh," the baby echoes, possibly agreeing.

"Someone's poopy," Beth announces in a stage whisper, confirming my suspicions and Angela's.

"Hang on, Mase," I say, reaching for a towel to dry my hands.

"That's all right, Bella. Dad told me to hit up the Grands."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you."

With a wall no longer separating the kitchen from the living room, our eyes follow Masen as he heads right on out to the living room, where Esme, Carlisle, Mom, and Phil are sitting and visiting with Shelly and George Cope from next door.

"Who wants this grandbaby?" Masen asks, dangling his little sibling out like a lure.

Faces smile and hands go up in the air as they all volunteer their services.

We hear another little "uh-oh" and Masen nods.

"Yeah, there's a catch," he says. "Someone has diaper-disaster."

Angela and I suppress a laugh as Carlisle, Phil, and George all lower their hands, thereby withdrawing their offers of assistance.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Carlisle," Esme chides with a roll of her eyes. "You've dealt with far worse as a doctor."

"But I'm retired now." He winks at Masen, clearly sharing his grandson's aversion to diaper-disaster.

Mom nudges Phil. "And what's your excuse?"

"I prefer leaving diaper-disaster to the more experienced."

"Don't bother looking at me, Shell," George tells his wife. "Honorary grandpas don't have to do the dirty work."

"Bunch of cowards," Shelly scoffs, eliciting muffled laughter from the rest of us.

"You or me, Renee?" Esme asks when she and Mom both stand, likely deferring to her since she and Phil are only here from Florida for a few days.

Edward's parents, on the other hand, are regulars after moving here from Chicago a little over a year ago. On the night of our wedding, when Esme heard I was pregnant, she announced she would be returning to Washington whether Carlisle retired and came with her or not. Happily, he was on board with the idea, and they bought a hilltop home on the outskirts of Forks, with a view of the Sol Duc River.

"I don't mind doing a little dirty work," Mom tells Esme. "But you can join me if you'd like?"

"I'd be glad to, Renee."

Masen's shoulders sag in relief as he hands his smelly little sibling off to Mom. "Thank goodness Team Grandma loves you no matter what, you stinky little thing!" he says, grinning, and earning himself a flirty little smile in response.

"Wait for me," Shelly says to Mom and Esme. "I'm not staying here with this bunch of sissies."

They head for the stairs with the baby looking back over Mom's shoulder, watching as Masen gives her a little wave bye-bye.

Her answering wave is automatic, but her expression morphs to one of concern as she points at him and shouts, "Mehs!?"

"Masey's not going anywhere, Charlie," Esme assures her. "Let's get you changed, and we'll bring you right back."

*I*

Yes, Charlie is ours. And no, her name isn't actually Charlie. It's Charlotte—Charlotte Emily Cullen. And no, we didn't name her for the literary Brontë sisters, although I've always been a big fan of Charlotte's Jane Eyre and Emily's Wuthering Heights.

Charlotte's nickname was Masen's doing, but it's fitting since Edward and I named her in honor of her Grandpa Charlie. After all, Dad did play somewhat of a role in bringing Edward and me back together after so many years apart. If Edward hadn't stumbled upon Dad's obituary online and noticed I was back to using my maiden name, we'd probably still be living our separate, single lives. Instead, in only five months' time we were married, I'd dropped my maiden name to take his, and we were expecting a baby.

Naming Charlotte for Dad seemed only more appropriate the day she was born. Stubbornly ignoring her April 1 due date, she waited to make her appearance on April 7—the first anniversary of her Grandpa Charlie's passing. I know it was probably just a coincidence, but I like to think Dad was at it again, pulling some strings somewhere, participating in life from the afterlife, and giving us reason to celebrate that date with a new little life.

It's hard to believe that was a year ago, but this Tuesday will be Charlotte's first birthday, and we're celebrating the occasion with family and friends today.

*I*

Once Team Grandma takes off to change my baby sister, I look over to my girlfriend, Bree. She's leaning against the end of the kitchen counter, watching me with amusement in her pretty eyes. I give her a slight nod in the direction of the back porch, and she responds with a conspiratorial smile, turning to quietly slip back outside.

I love this girl, and she reads me like an open book. At the moment, I'm on the let's-disappear-for-a-bit page, and the desire is clearly mutual.

"Uh, Bree and I will be back in a couple minutes," I announce as I make my way back through the kitchen, hoping Bella won't mind.

"Sure, go ahead, Mase," she says, giving me a wink and a smile.

"Andy, Beth, stay put," Angela says as they slide off their barstools. "Better yet, go get your hands washed so you can help us set the food out."

I breathe a small sigh of relief as I make my exit. Angela must have caught on too. Andy and Beth are nice kids, and I honestly don't mind helping to keep them entertained, but I'd really like a few moments alone with my girlfriend.

Between school, Bree's part-time job at the café, and mine at the library on campus, we haven't seen each other much this week. Granted, we spent several hours together on the drive from Seattle to Forks yesterday, but that ended when I dropped her off at her Aunt Carmen and Uncle Eleazar's house. She spent the night there with her cousins, Becca, Rachel, and Sarah, and didn't get over here until about a half hour ago. We've been surrounded by people ever since, and I want more than the quick, G-rated peck on the lips we exchanged earlier.

"Did you find a taker to change that diaper?" Dad asks as I duck out the back door after Bree.

"Yeah, I found three willing grandmas." I stick my hands in my pockets, hoping he doesn't have another job for me at the moment.

"Thanks for doing that, Mase."

"No problem." I gesture toward the opposite end of the porch, where Bree is already seated on the old porch swing. "If it's okay, Bree and I are just going to relax for a few."

"That's fine." Dad nods, going back to flipping burgers while Ben rotates hot dogs.

Fitz and Dottie are parked on the porch, hoping for handouts, and I pet their heads as I step around them and head over to Bree. She's waiting and watching my approach, smiling that sexy little smile of hers. After almost two years together, the way she looks at me still gets me going. She's totally aware of it, too. Like I said, I'm an open book.

"Thank God I dodged the diaper bullet," I tell her as I sit and drape my arm around her shoulders.

She laughs, reaching up to lace her fingers through mine. She knowsI have yet to change a fully-loaded diaper. I could probably manage it if forced to, but Dad or Bella are always around to take care of that sort of thing. We always spend family time together when I come home—it's not like they hand Charlie off to me and go skipping out the door for a weekend away or a date night out. They have Grandma and Grandpa for that.

Idly twirling my ring—the one Dad passed down to me on his wedding day—Bree says, "You realize you'll probably have to change a baby's diaper someday, don't you?"

"I know. And I will," I tell her. It's something I can actually see myself doing with her someday—having a future and a family, not just changing diapers. But not for a while. "My dad says the job is more tolerable when it's your own kid. I sure hope so. I'd hate to have to clean up that kind of mess and my own vomit."

"That's gross, Masen!" she giggles, smacking my leg and making me laugh.

I love her laugh. It's the best sound. Well, not the absolute best sound. I can get her to make other sounds that I find even more appealing, but that won't be happening with a houseful of people around.

"You know you love me," I remind her, squeezing her hand and grinning at her.

"Yeah, I do. For some reason." She rolls her eyes at herself or me, I don't know which, but she's still smiling, and her answer is good enough for me.

I pull her closer, ducking my head down for a more satisfying kiss than the quick one we shared earlier. Dad and Ben aren't paying any attention to us, but Bree still blushes afterwards and for some reason, I find that cute. She's not shy about anything when it's just the two of us. Trust me.

Clearing her throat, she asks, "Did you talk to your dad about getting an apartment this summer?"

"I did. I told him Riley and I wanted to find a place before the end of the semester, so we'd have it for summer session and next year. He said that was fine—as long as the rent isn't ridiculous and it's not too far from school."

"That's awesome."

"Yeah. I can't wait to get out of the dorms and stay put for a while. And it'll be so nice to have my own bedroom."

She gives me her conspiratorial little secret smile and nods. She has to live at parents' house until she graduates. Fortunately for us, I don't.

"The food's ready," Dad calls, nodding toward the house as he and Ben head inside with the grilled burgers and dogs.

"We'll be right there," I call back. "Just as soon as I get one last quick fix from my girl," I tell Bree, pulling her over to my lap once they've left. With a soft, warm laugh, she wraps her arms around my neck, and I hold her close, inhaling her scent, as she obliges me with a very thorough kiss.

Make that several.

Afterwards—after I've gotten my body and mind back in check—we head inside to join the party. We're bringing up the end of the buffet line with the exception of Bella. She always waits until everyone is set before seeing to herself. While the adults are crowding in around the table, she's busy fixing a little plate for Charlie. Meanwhile, Dad is getting her situated in her high chair at the corner of the table between his seat and Bella's. Once Charlie is in place, Bella sets her plate and sippy cup in front of her, and Dad takes his seat to keep an eye on her.

"I saved you two some hot smashed potatoes," Bella tells us, pulling a third baking sheet out of the oven and setting it next to the other two nearly empty ones.

"Oh, thank you!" Bree says, knowing just how good those things are right out of the oven.

"You're awesome," I tell Bella. She really is. I'm an adult, almost twenty, but she treats me like I'm her own. She knows those hot smashed potatoes are my favorite of all the food set out along the kitchen counter and stovetop.

Bree and I load up our plates, get a couple drinks, and head around to the two barstools between Beth and Andy at the breakfast bar.

*I*

After making sure everyone has everything they need, Bella finally takes her seat by me and our little girl.

At the opposite end of the table, my father clears his throat. "Well, here's to today's chefs, and more importantly, to the birthday girl. Happy birthday, Charlotte!" He raises his bottled water, and everyone follows Dad's lead, echoing his words and smiling at Charlotte as they toast to the occasion.

She blinks those big golden-green hazel eyes of hers, clearly unsure of what to make of our actions and whatever her Grandpa Carlisle just said. But she's becoming a quick little mimic. Leaning forward and reaching out with both hands, she picks up her sippy-cup and bursts into a sunny smile when everyone chuckles and voices their approval of her participation. Her eyes travel around the table while everyone takes a drink, and then she does the same, taking a drink of her juice.

"Mama!" she says afterwards, turning to Bella and lifting her cup up again to everyone's amusement.

"Look at you, big girl! Happy birthday!" Bella raises her own cup again at Charlotte's prodding and takes another sip of her lemonade. Charlotte wriggles in her seat, beaming with delight, and Bella and I share a smile over our sweet baby girl's head.

"What about Daddy?" Bella asks her.

"Dada," she echoes, turning to me, and up goes the sippy cup again.

"Happy Birthday, peanut." I chuckle, reciprocating with my lemonade.

"Okay. Time to eat, Charlotte. Can you put your cup down, please?" Bella pats the high chair's tray and smiles, waiting.

Seeing that all the drink-lifting-business has ended, she cooperates, leaning forward and carefully setting her cup back down.

"Good girl. Thank you," I tell her.

Charlotte starts picking at the mini-smorgasbord bits on her plate. When she pops a bite of potato in her mouth, Bella asks if it tastes yummy, and she responds with her full-body-nod and a "mm-mm-mm" happy hum.

There's a lull in conversation once everyone starts eating, commenting only on how good everything tastes. After a couple minutes though, talk picks back up again. I listen more than participate, trying to eat quickly so I can keep our little fidget entertained once she's done. I want Bella to relax and enjoy her meal without having to play pass-the-squirmy-girl.

Bella is listening intently to Mom and Renee. As usual, they're comparing Charlotte's progress, likes and dislikes, you-name-it, to Bella's and mine when we were her age.

Dad is trying to talk George into joining him, Phil, and me for a game of golf tomorrow afternoon in Port Angeles.

Shelly—Forks' undiscovered cake decorating queen—is telling Ben and Angela about the birthday cake she made for Charlotte. We're all looking forward to that thing of beauty.

The Cheney kids burst into laughter at the breakfast bar. I look over to see Bree smiling and shaking her head and Masen grinning, making me wonder what crazy thing he just said or did.

It's nice having all of our family here. It doesn't happen often enough.

We still get Masen home about one weekend a month, and we're always happy to have Bree when she comes along. I'm sure we'll see less of Masen once he has his own apartment, especially if he and Riley find one with a washer and dryer. But we can get to Seattle on the occasional weekend, too.

We see my parents pretty often, and they're always happy to watch Charlotte when Bella and I want a night out or when our work schedules overlap.

Unfortunately, Bella's mom and Phil can only get here a few times a year, but Renee says they'll come more often and stay longer once Phil retires. I doubt they'll ever leave Florida for good, but we're planning on visiting them this summer. Charlotte's first plane ride should be an adventure, and Masen is looking forward to seeing another part of the country.

Even though we're not related, our friends are family too. Besides seeing Ben and Angela at church, we get together regularly at our place, theirs, at the diner, or for a night of bowling.

George and Shelly are awesome neighbors, and they've been a big help to us, too. Anything I can't fix, George can, and Shelly is always happy to babysit when Bella and I go to city council meetings.

"So, Edward…" Phil says. "I hear you're thinking about stepping into the political arena."

For a second, I'm confused. And my mouth is full. But Mom jumps into the conversation to clarify, smiling at me as she does so. "I told Phil about the Forks City Attorney and Planner position opening up in November."

"Oh, gotcha." I smile at Mom. She's so excited you'd think I was running for Governor. I think she's just glad I keep lucking into things that aren't as emotionally draining as what I often dealt with working for the Victims and Witness Assistance Unit in Chicago.

"It's not actually a political position, but I will have to run for the office," I tell Phil. "I would handle governmental and legal matters for the city—mostly concerning zoning codes, labor relations, policy review, and such. And I would have to be present at City Council meetings—which I already attend regularly with Bella anyway. But the job isn't full-time in a small town like this, so I would continue working in private practice and teaching the two government night classes at Peninsula College's Forks Campus."

"I see," Phil says. "So, how do you like your chances in the election?"

I shrug. "Well, I've gotten a lot of on-the-job experience this past year, assisting the current City Attorney—thanks to Bella's connections at city council." I shoot her a wink and she smiles. "And he's giving me his endorsement," I continue. "So, I'm hopeful."

"You'll get the vote, Edward," Angela says. "Half of Forks went to high school with you and remembers you."

Ben nods and looks at Phil. "And most of them voted for him as Student Body President back then. I told Edward he could probably run for Mayor and win that race on their vote alone." Phil looks impressed, but I just laugh.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ben, but I won't be running for Mayor now or in the foreseeable future. I need an income. I've got a son in college, aiming for Med School, and a daughter heading for preschool."

There are smiles and snickers around the table. Not many would envy my situation, but they all know I'm as happy as could be. I thank my lucky stars every single day that I'm where I am in life with everyone I have in my life.

"I'll tell you what, Ben…" I say. "I'll run for Mayor when you decide to run for City Clerk and Treasurer. It'll be just like old times at Forks High."

"No, thank you," Ben chuckles. "Between the church and Angela's coffee shop, my clerking skills are stretched thinly enough. When would I have time for leisure activities? Like our mixed-doubles bowling night?" His gaze slides from me to Bella, and he breaks into a rather devilish grin for a man of God.

"Oh, no you don't, Ben Cheney," Bella says, shaking her head and pointing at him. "You're not turning this into a discussion about bowling."

"Aww… You know we love you and your mad gutter-ball skills!" Angela loops her arm around Bella, leaning over to hug her. "And it's not like we laugh at you…every time."

Bella rolls her eyes, but I can see she's trying not to laugh. I certainly can't help grinning. It's not the gutter-balls so much as the quirky little dance steps she does beforehand, trying to voodoo the bowling ball into staying on the straight and narrow.

"I'll have you all know I'm secretly an excellent bowler," she says, looking from Angela to Ben to me. "I aim for those gutters intentionally, hoping one of the three of you will laugh and be forced to pay for my lemonade and soft pretzel—as per our agreement."

"You're a terrible liar," Angela observes, her eyes twinkling, and Bella finally bursts into laughter.

"I know! And I stink at bowling! But at least the four of us always have a good time."

"Amen to that," Ben agrees, smiling.

I'm smiling, too. I'm utterly charmed by my wife—quirky bowling dance steps and all.

*I*

After lunch, my mom and Esme appoint themselves in charge of clean-up duty, enlisting the help of Phil and Carlisle. The rest of us are shooed out of the kitchen, including Edward and me. We did birthday presents earlier and we'll do cake in a little while. For now, we need a respite from eating, and Charlotte needs a break from sitting.

She doesn't last long in her high chair. Once she's done eating, she grows restless, ready to move on to the next activity. But with everyone here today, she lucked out, going from lap to lap around the table for talk, songs, tickles, and games. I'm not sure who enjoyed that more—Charlotte or Edward and I. For us, it's a delight to watch her interacting, becoming more and more a sociable little person with her own thoughts and ideas.

She likes peek-a-boo and patty-cake, but she gets the biggest kick out of her own game—pointing at people or things and checking to see if we know their names by asking us, "Dat?" When we answer, she moves on, pointing at the next person or thing. But if we give her a wrong answer, she laughs or shakes her head no, pointing and repeating, "Dat?"

But the games are over for now; she's ready to get down and move. It's her favorite activity. She pushes or pulls herself up and cruises around, grabbing onto the furniture and us, with as little help from us as possible. When we try to assist, she flails her arm and shakes her head no, only accepting a hand when there's nothing else to hang onto. It's happening less and less, however. She has already begun taking a few steps on her own before plopping down to her little bottom.

With clean-up duty underway in the kitchen, Edward and I keep a watchful eye on the baby as she starts a wobbly circuit around the living room.

"Andy and I are going to head out to the backyard to check on Fitz and Dottie, and toss the Frisbee around," Ben tells Angela.

"That's fine," she answers as she takes a seat near the Copes. "Just watch out for Fitz-bombs and Dottie-grenades."

"Do you want to play a game of Uno with me and Mom?" Beth asks George and Shelly as she sits by Angela.

"Sure," George says. "Just keep an eye on Shelly. She likes to cheat." Shelly rolls her eyes and Beth giggles.

"Hey Dad? Bella?" Masen asks as he and Bree approach. "Would it be okay if we took the bikes out for a short ride?"

Edward looks from his son to me, but I certainly don't mind them escaping for a few minutes. And it's not like they haven't used our bikes before.

"That's fine," I answer for both of us.

But just as Masen and Bree are putting on their sweatshirts, Edward says, "Oh, wait, Mase. I completely forgot. Charlotte's trailer is hooked up to my bike."

"Oh…" Masen says.

"Would she want to go with us?" Bree asks brightly. She's such a sweet girl, but I'm doubtful that's what Masen had in mind.

"Yeah, we could take Charlie out for a little spin, if you want," he says, however, backing up her offer.

Edward looks to me again. I can see he's uncertain, probably unsure of what I'd want. Or maybe he's alarmed because Masen hasn't done it before. But he's a responsible young man, as well as a careful big brother. And that bike trailer Edward bought last month is the safest one on the market. I know because he spent the previous month researching all of them.

"I'm sure Charlie would love that," I tell Edward. And Masen and Bree. "But I wouldn't go very far," I add for Edward's sake.

Masen nods and turns to his little sister. "Hey, Charlie. Want to go for a bike ride? Want to come with me and Bree?"

She looks from Masen to Bree, and then to us, because this is different. Then she smiles and begins toddling in his direction, so apparently she's all for it.

"You sure?" Edward asks me quietly, because apparently he isn't. But I nod.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Edward. They can just ride around here, and Bree can help keep an eye on Charlotte to make sure she's okay."

"I will, I promise," Bree affirms. "And we won't go fast or far. We'll just stay right on your street."

"Okay," Edward agrees.

"I'll get Charlie's jacket and hat on her while you help them get the bikes out," I tell him.

By the time we make it out the door, Bree is on the driveway with my bike, watching as Masen takes a practice spin on Edward's bike, pulling the trailer. As we approach—slowly because Charlotte wants to get down and walk—I can hear Edward giving his son some last minute safety tips…

"…and because there's more weight with the trailer, it takes longer to come to a complete stop when you brake…"

"Okay. Yeah, I can feel that. But I won't be going very fast anyway."

"And you have to be careful on turns. If you turn too sharply, the trailer could potentially tip…"

"Got it. No hairpin turns. I'll go slowly and make wide turns."

"And be sure you stay to the side of the road and watch for cars…"

"Dad, I'm not five years old! I promise we'll all make it back alive."

"Here we are! All ready to go!" I interrupt, biting back my laughter at the two of them. I walk Charlotte over to her daddy so he can buckle her into the trailer's seat. As you might expect, he likes to do that himself so he knows she's secure. And that's fine. I love him, and it's just easier that way.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," I tell Masen. "And it's only for a few minutes on a quiet, residential, dead-end street," I add for Edward's sake.

Just a few moments later, Edward and I are standing at the side of the road, waving and calling "bye-bye" as Masen pedals away with Charlotte in tow and Bree right behind. I tuck myself into Edward's side as his arm slips around me, and we watch them head for the end of the street.

Once there, Masen makes a very slow, very wide, extra-cautious loop. We can hear both bike bells ringing as well as Masen and Bree exclaiming, "Whee!" I burst into a big grin and glance up to see my husband doing the same. After a moment, I stretch up on my toes to kiss him.

"What was that for?" he asks afterwards.

"Just thinking happy thoughts."

"About?"

I nod my head to the end of the street, where a second big, happy, noisy loop is in progress.

"I was just thinking about the very first time I saw that boy of yours on a bike… How I didn't see him coming, but there he suddenly was, caught in that downpour, trying to outride the rain, and looking like a phantom from my past." Edward smiles. He knows that story. But I have more to tell him. "Little did I know that boy would be a part of my own family one day, or that I would even have a family of my own, let alone one with you."

Edward's smile softens and he ducks his head down for a kiss.

"I couldn't ask for anything more," he tells me afterwards. "This is my Happily Ever After."

"Mine, too," I reply, smiling.

Hearing the ring of bicycle bells, we look up to see the little parade coming back toward us.

"Oh! Do you have your phone?" I ask. "We need pictures of this!"

"Yeah. Good thinking." Pulling his phone from his pocket, he gets it set, and holds it up as they approach.

"Here comes the birthday girl!" Bree calls out, ringing my bike's bell.

"Hi, Charlotte!" I wave at her little smiling face. She's clearly loving this.

"Hi, peanut!" Edward says as he takes photos. "Hi, Mase! Hi, Bree!" he adds.

They both crack up. Then Masen makes a goofy face and Bree smiles and poses, doing a little beauty pageant wave.

"Smile and wave to Mommy and Daddy, Charlie!" Masen calls over his shoulder.

"She is!" I laugh just as cheers, applause, and chuckles erupt behind us. Turning, I see Mom and Phil, the Cullens, the Cheneys, and the Copes all standing on the front porch, watching and waving at Charlotte's birthday parade. No wonder she was getting such a kick out of this! She has a whole audience admiring her and cheering her on in her chariot!

Edward and I are both laughing as he takes photos of everyone on the porch and then turns back to capture Masen making another sweeping loop on the street in front of the house.

This is the best. Absolutely unplanned and perfect. I'm glad Edward had his phone on him to record these silly, special moments on Charlotte's first birthday. But even if he hadn't, I doubt we'd forget. Like so much that has happened these past two years, it's another indelible memory we'll share.

A/N: That's all, folks! :) I hope you enjoyed it, and once again, I hope you'll let me know. xo