This outtake is for CrookedSmile. She wanted more Jake and Bree. Her reviews fucking deserve so much more.
THE CANOPY OF LET GO
There is a room filled with soft and sweet and lovely. A boy who has grown into a man. A man who is having a hard time of letting go of a girl. The girl, who is ready for it all. She is a woman. Ha. Try telling that to the man who cannot let go.
I watch as her mother puts the pins and pretty in her hair. A swipe to her lips from a tissue. Those teeth will only be white today. Fuck you, red. I toss my garter for the second time in its life and yeah, fuck red. My cheeks. To think that shit would make me blush.
"Something borrowed." I wink and she looks like she might cry. "Don't you dare cry, Bree. If Edward sees that shit, he'll think you're trying to leave Jake at the alter. No false hope today."
She laughs and nods. "Right. Is...do you think it's a good idea to leave them alone?" Bites her lip and she has every right.
Mom's getting something. In the other room. Sex can be mentioned. "Not if you want to get laid on your wedding night. Your uncle is probably threatening every part of Jake's being. I'm sure. 'Cause you know...you're wearing white, today." And I laugh hard at that shit.
"Does he really think we haven't..."
"Yes and I'd like for him to remain the sane, sad, little naive man I know and love, so just shut it, Bree. Just shut it."
When it's time to sport that white dress and play innocent virgin girl who is still and will always be fucking nine; Edward takes her hand and the place of a man who is no longer here. Stressful jobs leave behind stressed & despondent wives and kid. Fuck yes they do. Edward fixes that shit, though. For everyone. So, his hand, her hand and then I die a little inside when he answers the question.
"Myself, on behalf of her father."
He's a fucking grown-up and you know, I will just never be so grown-up. I look at my kids, 1,2,3,4 and wonder how I even do this. I feel as short and small as they sit beside me. Will Edward cry? God damn it. I hope not. He smirks a little when I reach into my top. Oh shut up. It's just for a tissue. Like I'd flash him my tits in church. With our kids right here. He fucking smirks again. I show a little bit of nipple.
At least he doesn't cry.
There is another room. Filled with lights and cameras and a dance-floor and pretty round tables that have arrangements that I feel proud I never let Alice anywhere near my own wedding. We're shoving our faces with frosting and making sure to say how good it is because Alice not only has decorating skills, but of course, the cake too. She needs to add a few more kids to her life. Time. Too much of it.
And then there is that look. As he stares over my shoulder and the song is slow. I know him. My fingers turn his face back my direction. I want to see this up close and personal. And he knows, too. He knows.
"Bree's making me feel old." Covering up a little. I quirk an eyebrow. Can't fool me, fool. "And...I can't believe we are dancing at her wedding."
"To Jacob," I add.
He smiles. "Tell me about it."
Love to. "Seems like just yesterday I caught them making out on our porch."
Face crinkling. Lots and lots of face crinkling. "Bella. Please."
"They're cute. They've always been cute, Edward."
He's not convinced. "Mmhmm." Twirling me around and he wants me to shut it.
"Jacob worships that little girl. You know it."
Pulls me closer. "That's the whole point, Sweetheart." Eyes back over my shoulder. "She's not a little girl, anymore."
Lights die and new music plays and way too loud DJ shouts shit. Flowers get sent straight into the hands of my daughter, the first one, and I think...yup. Edward is going to die in this place. He thought the light coat of gloss on her lips was bad. Two soft brushes of blush on her cheeks and the word divorce was somewhere in his thought process.
He's rubbing the space between his brows and she's smiling widely at her prize. Joshua is adorable, looking just like a miniature Emmett, but with Rosalie's blonde hair and my kid and their kid would be just as cute as Jacob and Bree. She's still daddy's girl and she knows it when he pulls her into his lap and a hug that is way too long and way too embarrassing is given and "Daddy, stop." Because Josh wants to dance.
"No. Never," because he's Edward and today, he already had to give away one girl.
But Joshua is already just as devoted to my girl, our girl, as what we've witnessed today. They have years on them, sure, but I see it. He hands Grace found wildflowers just the same way Jacob placed them into Bree's. We were fishing and they were on a dock. I saw them under the sunlight and golden and how he reached out, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. It was sealed with a kiss to her chin, even though he is at least seven inches taller.
Everyday when he met her in the kitchen before school, he poured her a glass of juice. Except once. Edward woke up early.
Then there was the books. And the vending machine. I had a thing with baby three. More like, she had a thing with peanut butter M&M's. I had to make the trip two times a day. Used to be three, but I had to cut down when I came home, rainbow colored fingers and the jigg was up. Even though, I did enjoy how he arched that brow and placed a protective hand that knew way too much about babies and artificial colors on me.
The reason why it is relevant...on my trip, there were books. Classes ending and beginning and I don't think Bree has any clue how much any of them weigh. They never touched her hands. Arms.
But the best...what I pray for my own girls...is that Jacob grew up under the thumb of two men who are truly men. Drop and give me fifty when he fucked up. A seat next to a tie and shiny shoes when he needed advice and the most important fucking time he ever sat next to him...there was a ring and a belly full of throw-up.
I think it's the only reason Edward left him in tact. He asked first. The ring was then in the room for a second time when there was a second time of asking, but blessed with a pat on the back and pride. He'll never admit or know that I saw it, but I did. A small smile as Jacob exited our home that evening. Edward's.
"I want to dance," she is grumbling and I'm sure that her fingers would be better than her voice right now. It's another sign of growth and he is a ball of nothing in that rental chair with a hideous satin bow.
"Good thing for you, Gracie, I know how." She meant with Joshua, not him. He knows. The smirk gives all his shit away and only because she loves him and knows his face like I do, she won't dare say no or correct him.
From the other hideous chair, Joshua's young eyes watch. Lost in the awe that is my girl, our girl, and stupid, stupid eyes are just that. My other kids are running around, stealing plastic bottles of bubbles from the other guest tables and still so very innocent, but Grace, she is swaying with her daddy, watched and admired by the boy he will no doubt pass her to someday.
And I feel lucky that she will never have arms full of books. Her hands will know what wildflowers and stolen kisses and other hands feels like. Lockers will have dents in them from boys who cross the line and don't get away with it. Notebooks with initials. Porch swings that are hated by her father.
Someday...someday...a canopy of flowers. A room filled with soft and sweet and lovely. Cake that is one of a kind. Blessed rings and questions asked twice.
And a yes.