Chapter One

The wind is hot, and I'm sticky and sweaty and need to go home and take a shower. I should be taking advantage of the fact that we're done early for the day, but I'm not. Instead, I'm sitting in my truck, waiting for the mom with the double stroller to walk by. I do this every day of the week and even though I worry I'm becoming a little creepy, I can't seem to stop myself.

It's my favourite part of the day.

I first noticed this woman who I've dubbed – double stroller mom - on the Monday we started working to replace the sidewalks in the older neighbourhood on the east end of town. She was walking at a quick pace on the opposite side of the street, pushing a double stroller with one child jumping up and down in it, and another that looked like a baby. Behind her trailed a young girl, maybe five or six years old, who was trying to keep up. About thirty minutes later I saw her again, this time with only the two smaller children in the stroller. Later in the day she was walking by again, hunched over the double stroller with a look of determination on her face. An hour after that she was back with the young girl, but this time they were walking slower and chatting as the child twirled around and smiled.

Tuesday the scene repeats itself, and then again on Wednesday. I can almost set my clock by her. I suspected she lived at the far end of the street, where the construction crew I'm working with was ripping up old sidewalks and replacing them with new. It's an older neighbourhood and the sidewalks are in desperate need of repair. Not all of the corners had curb cuts, and I would watch, as this slight woman would hoist her double stroller up over the high curb, her muscles flexing on her forearms and biceps as she did so. For a woman who looks so fragile, her arms appear surprisingly strong. They would have to be if she is pushing that massive stroller around all day long.

It takes us about three weeks to complete the first batch of sidewalks. This includes cutting the concrete, ripping out the old ones, along with about two feet of everyone's lawn, and then rebuilding the base, pouring the concrete and all the other bits and bobs of building a new sidewalk. It's hard, sweaty work, but it pays well for a summer job and if I'm going to run my own crew someday, I need to start at the ground and work my way up. Ripping and pouring concrete for sidewalks is about as literal an interpretation of 'ground-up' as one can get.

My curiosity was getting the better of me and causing me to become distracted at work. I started timing my breaks so I was sitting in my truck when she would walk by – that way, I could get a closer look. At first I thought she might be a nanny since she looked so young. But, one day, as I sat and stared at her in my rearview mirror (in what I will admit is creepy, stalker fashion) I heard the oldest girl call her Mommy so that took care of that theory.

XXXXXXX

"Hey Edweirdo, here comes your mom-crush."

"Shut the fuck up Emmett," I hiss under my breath while punching him in the shoulder. My cousin wasn't wrong, but I certainly didn't need her hearing him. We were finishing up screeding the sidewalk, so I couldn't take my break yet and was going to miss out on watching her and her children walk by.

"Good afternoon ma'am!" Emmett called while waving his giant arm back and forth like an idiot.

I want to bury my head in the ground right now, so I don't turn around until I hear giggling. A lot of giggling.

When I do turn around, I see that the mom and her girls have stopped. The little redhead, who is usually bouncing in her seat, is waving her arms in a kind of funny imitation of Emmett, and the older girl is hiding behind her mom.

"I'm three!" Red says and starts climbing out of the stroller as she continues to talk at us. She looks like she is going to run across the street but a few words from her mom and she quickly turns back around and sits. I can't hear what double stroller mom says, but from the tone, they were short and sharp and had a swift effect on the little bouncer.

Then the mom turns to us. This is the first time I've had the chance to make eye contact with her, and I feel my mouth go dry. She has these big brown eyes that, if I'm honest, seem a little too big. She looks slightly haunted, or haggard or maybe just tired. Anyway, she looks like she needs a hug and a whole lot of food. I notice that her shoulders are a little too sharp and are poking out of her t-shirt. She is pale and somewhat sweaty as though that stroller is a large boulder and she is Sisyphus.

But then she smiles at us and her whole look changes. It's a shy smile, not a huge, face-breaking grin, but it's enough to make something inside me ache a little.

"Thank you," she says quietly, but loud enough for us to hear on our side of the street. "I'm so grateful for the new sidewalks, and I know I'm not the only person on this street who feels that way." Then she gives a shy little wave and once again begins pushing the stroller. The older girl who was hiding behind her skirt provides us with a small smile and a shy little wave too, and the action is so identical to her mom that the ache inside grows as I watch them walk away.

The guys and I stand there watching them walk away in silence until Emmett yells, "Bye Red!" at the top of his voice and a little hand pops up over the top of the stroller and starts waving.

We laugh and then start talking about all the people on the street who have been very ungrateful that we are ripping up their sidewalks and redoing them.

It was nice to get a thank you for a change.

XXXXXXXX

Each block of sidewalk, from corner to corner, takes a couple weeks to replace. Once the first set is done, we cross the street and start on the next. Today is Saturday, but after a couple days of hard rain that prevented us from working, we are making up for lost time. I'm a little bummed because I figure I won't be seeing the double stroller today, but just as that thought enters my mind, I see it making its way down the street. In fact, they're crossing the street towards us. The guys and I stand there watching, all thoughts of raking through the gravel and dirt to build up the new sidewalk forgotten.

Red, of course, is the first one to say anything.

"Hi, giant man!" She yells when she sees Emmett.

"Hiya Red," he says grinning like a fool. I can't say I blame him, though; it's hard not to smile when you see her.

"We made cibbabin buns!" Sure enough, in her hands is a container that she is barely holding on to because she is vibrating with excitement.

"Hi," double stroller mom says quietly. "We made these as a thank you."

I can tell she is nervous as she glances around at us. I like to think her eyes linger on me a little longer than anyone else, but that's probably wishful thinking.

"These," she points to the container Red is holding, "have raisins. And these," she pulls her little mini-me out from behind her, "don't, because I know not everyone likes them."

"Who doesn't like raisins?" Emmett bellows and to my surprise stroller mom throws her head back, laughs and says, "I know, right?" Then she looks embarrassed by her actions and tells us again that they are a thank you for replacing the old sidewalks. Now that she's finished, she looks like she wants to run away.

As she turns to go, leaning over and pushing her weight into the double stroller to make it turn, I realize I've been holding my breath the whole time.

"Wait!" I say.

Everyone turns and stares at me. I think even the baby is staring at me.

"Um, where do we return your containers?" Oh man, that was lame I think, and inwardly beat myself up. I know Emmett is going to be ribbing me all afternoon.

"Oh," she says. "You can just leave them across the street on top of that electrical box," and she points to a grey box on the corner of a lawn. "We can pick them up on our way back from the playground."

"We going to have a pic-mick!" says Red. Well, she yells it. I think she only has one volume.

"Oh man, these are so good," says Emmett around a mouthful of cinnamon bun. "A picnic! I love picnics. Can I come?" He laughs, and Red laughs, and double stroller mom turns a little red but smiles and shakes her head as she makes her way across the street.

I watch as she leans in to use her weight to tilt the stroller back so she can get it up over the curb. I wonder how much weight she's pushing? Red looks like a solid kid and that baby must be close to a year old because it doesn't look exactly new. I watch as all the muscles contract and move as she hefts the back wheels over the curb and I fight the urge to run over and help her. Something tells me she wouldn't appreciate that gesture.

Emmett leans over and tells me to wipe the drool off my face. I punch him in the shoulder.

"So," he says. "Notice anything missing?"

I pretend I don't know what he is talking about, but I totally know, and I totally noticed.

Double stroller mom wasn't wearing a ring.

XXXXXXX

Weeks later, I'm on my hands and knees in a dugout that was once a sidewalk and will be again soon, when I hear a soft sniffling sound. Looking up, I see two, small, bare feet with toenails that look as if they're painted with sparkly pink dirt. As I slowly stand and raise my eyes, I notice knobbly knees just under the hem of a short pink nightgown with multi-color cupcakes printed all over it. I start chuckling at the cuteness of it all, but quickly stop when I see her face. It's double stroller mom's little mini-me. Her brown eyes look abnormally large on such a little face and for a moment, she just stares at me. Brushing the dirt off my hands, I look up at the house and then back at the girl. She looks as though she is going to be sick, but in a small, quiet voice she says "my mom," and "blood" in such a way that it leaves me cold.

Running up the steps towards the house, I hear noise: a kettle screaming, a baby crying, and faintly, the sound of another child babbling. Opening the front door, the first thing I see are a whole lot of little girl shoes in a short hallway that leads to a kitchen. There, on the floor is a hand and a long slim arm disappearing behind a wall.

I slowly walk forward, afraid of what I'm going to find when I enter the room. Behind me, I hear mini-me closing the door. Turning into the kitchen, the scene slowly unfolds before me as more and more of double stroller mom's body is revealed. She lies on the ground, her face covered by a curtain of dark hair with a small pool of blood by the right side of her head. In a highchair nearby, the baby is screaming and banging a spoon on a tray. I simultaneously take my phone out of my pocket while I reach to shut off the kettle. As I dial 911, I turn around to see mini-me watching me closely.

"I'm calling an ambulance," I tell her. "It'll all be okay," I say even though I really have no idea if it will or not. I truly hope I'm not lying.

"911 Operator, how may I assist you?"

"Hi, there's been an accident, a woman has been hurt and we are going to need an ambulance. She's unconscious."

"What is your location sir?"

Shit! Quickly I run outside to look at the house number and give the operator the address. When I rush back into the kitchen, mini-me is sitting on the floor beside her mother holding her hand and rubbing her back.

"What is the woman's name sir?"

I crouch down beside the little girl just to be closer to her. "Can you tell me your mom's name?"

"Bella," her small voice cracks.

"Bella Swan."

A/N: So, I spent a lot of time telling myself I wasn't going to start publishing again until I had finished a story but apparently I like the pressure of having a deadline. Many of you will recognize this first chapter from the Meet the Mate contest where Double Stroller came in 3rd Place in the Public Vote (thank you everyone who voted). It's been a year but I'm finally getting back into the story. The first two chapters will contain the material from the contest with some minor changes, and then chapter three will start with all new material. My goal is to publish every Friday. I have no idea how long this story will be but I don't plan on it being too long. Maybe 10 chapters? I guess it depends what the characters have to say.

Thanks again to SunflowerFran for editing this. I will admit that I didn't follow all her suggestions because Edward talks to himself in his head a lot and not everything he says is grammatically correct. Darcysmom had a red pen in this too during the contest so between the two of them they make sure the commas are going in the right place and I'm not writing too much of a stream of consciousness. All mistakes are mine.

The usual disclaimers apply: I don't own these characters or the Twilight world, we all know who does. This is the only time I will mention that because we all know it. This plot is mine though. I used to own a large double stroller and I have three daughters so make of that what you will.

Have a wonderful weekend and I will see you next Friday!