"What happened to your arm?"
I flushed and cursed silently. "I tripped. It's nothing."
"Bella," he sighed, shaking his head.
"Goodnight, Dad."
I hurried up to the bathroom, where I kept my pajamas for just such nights as these. I shrugged into the matching tank top and cotton pants that I'd gotten to replace the holey sweats I used to wear to bed, wincing as the movement pulled at the stitches. I washed my face one-handed, brushed my teeth, and then skipped to my room.
He was sitting in the center of my bed, toying idly with one of the silver boxes.
"Hi," he said. His voice was sad. He was wallowing.
I went to the bed, pushed the presents out of his hands, and climbed into his lap.
"Hi." I snuggled into his stone chest. "Can I open my presents now?"
"Where did the enthusiasm come from?" he wondered.
"You made me curious."
I picked up the long flat rectangle that must have been from Carlisle and Esme.
"Allow me," he suggested. He took the gift from my hand and tore the silver paper off with one fluid movement. He handed the rectangular white box back to me.
"Are you sure I can handle lifting the lid?" I muttered, but he ignored me.
Inside the box was a long thick piece of paper with an overwhelming amount of fine print. It took me a minute to get the gist of the information.
"We're going to Jacksonville?" And I was excited, in spite of myself. It was a voucher for plane tickets, for both me and Edward.
"That's the idea."
"I can't believe it. Renée is going to flip! You don't mind, though, do you? It's sunny, you'll have to stay inside all day."
"I think I can handle it," he said, and then frowned. "If I'd had any idea that you could respond to a gift this appropriately, I would have made you open it in front of Carlisle and Esme. I thought you'd complain."
"Well, of course it's too much. But I get to take you with me!"
He chuckled. "Now I wish I'd spent money on your present. I didn't realize that you were capable of being reasonable."
I set the tickets aside and reached for his present, my curiosity rekindled. He took it from me and unwrapped it like the first one.
He handed back a clear CD jewel case, with a blank silver CD inside.
"What is it?" I asked, perplexed.
He didn't say anything; he took the CD and reached around me to put it in the CD player on the bedside table. He hit play, and we waited in silence. Then the music began.
I listened, speechless and wide-eyed. I knew he was waiting for my reaction, but I couldn't talk. Tears welled up, and I reached up to wipe them away before they could spill over.
"Does your arm hurt?" he asked anxiously.
"No, it's not my arm. It's beautiful, Edward. You couldn't have given me anything I would love more. I can't believe it." I shut up, so I could listen.
It was his music, his compositions. The first piece on the CD was my lullaby.
"I didn't think you would let me get a piano so I could play for you here," he explained.
"You're right."
"How does your arm feel?"
"Just fine." Actually, it was starting to blaze under the bandage. I wanted ice. I would have settled for his hand, but that would have given me away.
"I'll get you some Tylenol."
"I don't need anything," I protested, but he slid me off his lap and headed for the door.
"Charlie," I hissed. Charlie wasn't exactly aware that Edward frequently stayed over. In fact, he would have a stroke if that fact were brought to his attention. But I didn't feel too guilty for deceiving him. It wasn't as if we were up to anything he wouldn't want me to be up to. Edward and his rules . . .
"He won't catch me," Edward promised as he disappeared silently out the door . . . and returned, catching the door before it had swung back to touch the frame. He had the glass from the bathroom and the bottle of pills in one hand.
I took the pills he handed me without arguing-I knew I would lose the argument. And my arm really was starting to bother me.
My lullaby continued, soft and lovely, in the background.
"It's late," Edward noted. He scooped me up off the bed with one arm, and pulled the cover back with the other. He put me down with my head on my pillow and tucked the quilt around me. He lay down next to me-on top of the blanket so I wouldn't get chilled-and put his arm over me.
I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed happily.
"Thanks again," I whispered.
"You're welcome."
It was quiet for a long moment as I listened to my lullaby drift to a close. Another song began. I recognized Esme's favorite.
"What are you thinking about?" I wondered in a whisper.