AN: Thank you to those who either favorited, followed, or reviewed this story. I truly appreciate it. Enjoy.

Slice of Life

Chapter II: The Marginal

By: anybodihearme

Originally Uploaded: Thursday, June 18th, 2020

"Get up," Eddward said, flipping the light on to his daughter's room. It was a quarter to seven and this was the third time he walked into her room. "Charlotte," he called from the doorway. The light from the chandelier filled the room, illuminating the bed and every dark corner. Ignoring the stern calls from the doorway, Charlotte turned over in the bed, putting her back to him and pulling the blanket over her head. "Let's go," he called.

Silence.

Eddward crossed the room, stepping on a baseball bat in the process, and grabbed the orange duvet that Charlotte was hiding under. In one swift move, he snatched the blanket off of her, revealing her small frame encased in striped pajamas. Charlotte groaned and pulled a pillow over her head, which Eddward also snatched away. With nothing else within her reach, she flipped over on her stomach and yelled into her sheets.

"Good morning," Eddward said in a cheerful tone.

"Go away!" Charlotte screamed into the sheets.

"Sorry," Eddward said, rolling his eyes. "I didn't quite catch that. Maybe if you would get out of the bed, we could have a civilized conversation," he offered.

"I hate you," she mumbled and Eddward humped his shoulders. It wasn't even seven and she was already telling him how much she despised him.

"I love you too," he countered, clearly unbothered. "Now get up and get dressed."

Charlotte groaned and sat up in the bed, keeping her back turned to him. Her unruly curly black hair sat atop her head with her clothes bunching around her joints and the smallest amount of dry drool clinging to her lip. She yawned as she stretched her limbs, oddly resembling a cat. For a few seconds, she sat there staring at her headboard before leaning back and cracking her spine along with her neck and arms. The sounds made Eddward close his eyes and mentally sigh.

It was going to be a long day.

Eddward left the room and headed downstairs to make breakfast. He figured a simple bowl of oatmeal and toast would do just fine, especially since it was looking to be a windy day. Eddward flipped on the lights as he went, making sure there was enough light for both him and Charlotte to see, especially since it was only early spring and the sun continued to rise late.

Pulling a can of oats from the built-in pantry, Eddward got to work whipping up a simple breakfast. Even though he wasn't hungry himself, he knew it was important for him to at least eat something, which is how he found himself drinking a cup of tea and munching on a few extra slices of apple that he knew his daughter wouldn't eat.

"What's for breakfast?" Charlotte asked, walking into the kitchen with a scowl on her face. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, hidden underneath a faded purple baseball cap, with strands sticking out in every direction. She was dressed in a simple pair of black jogging pants with a wrinkled shirt that said "Fortnite." She slung her tattered backpack on the floor next to the dining room table - next to a jean jacket that didn't look any better - and plopped down into the adjacent seat.

"Apple flavored oatmeal and toast," Eddward answered, filling the bowl in his hand with oatmeal.

"I hate oatmeal," she said in a gruff manner.

"You hate everything," Eddward shot back and she snorted. Buttering the toast, Eddward sat the bowl down in front of her. "Hat off at the table," he said flicking the brim of the cap. "What would you like to drink?"

"Orange juice," she answered, pulling off her cap and revealing a bird's nest.

Eddward poured her a glass of orange juice and sat it at the table. With not much to say, Charlotte began eating, alternating between spoonfuls of oatmeal and toast loaded with the warm oats, and Eddward left the kitchen. Thinking she was alone, Charlotte let her mind wander before she felt her hair being taken down, startling her and making her jerk.

"Hold still," Eddward said, combing through her hair with a fine comb.

"Ouch!" She yelled, reaching up to grab his hand. "That hurts!"

"It does not," he whacked her hand away with the comb. "Hold still," he repeated. Eddward sprayed her hair with detangler and started from the bottom before making his way up, combing out the knots one at a time. Charlotte mumbled the entire time about how much it hurt but deep down Eddward knew he was causing her no pain and that she just liked to be dramatic.

"There," he said, pulling her hair through a neat ponytail, her ringlets hanging in perfect spirals. Charlotte didn't need to look in a mirror to know it looked perfect. Everything her father did was perfect. It was a fact and maybe even law.

"I'm finished," she yawned. Eddward nodded his head and picked up the bowl but not before telling her to wash her face and brush her teeth. Knowing her, she probably half-assed it the first time. Rolling her eyes, Charlotte jumped down from the seat and stormed out of the kitchen, making her steps louder than they needed to be.

After washing the dishes, Eddward reached down and retrieved her backpack, setting her jacket neatly on the back of the chair. He unzipped the bag and pulled out her homework folder, giving her assignments a quick scan. Usually, he made it a habit to check her homework the night before, but last night he worked late and could barely keep his eyes open.

"Charlotte!" He screamed.

"What!" She answered back, her tone wavering just a bit. She knew her father like the back of her hand and could distinguish between an "I-am-pissed" yell and a "you-kind-of-annoy-me yell." For her, it wasn't the latter and her blood ran a bit cold.

"Come here, now!" Upstairs, Eddward heard her shut off the water and fumble around in the bathroom. The sounds of her steps echoed off of the stairs and sooner than later she was standing in the entryway that opened up into both the kitchen and dining room. Her face was pink from the water she used to wash her face and her shirt was a bit damp.

"Yes?" She asked. Eddward motioned her over with his hand without looking at her. When she got closer to her father, she could see that he was holding both her math and science homework in his hand.

"Mind explaining this to me?" He inquired, raising his eyebrow and looking down at her once she sat in the chair.

"No."

"Don't get smart with me," his tone was tight. "It's too early for your antics and I don't have the patience to deal with you this morning." He laid out her homework in front of her for both of them to look at it. Without needing to look, Charlotte knew where his anger was stemming from. Each answer was either half-assed, incorrect, or simply left blank.

Intentionally done but she wouldn't admit that.

"I…" she trailed off, not having an excuse ready at hand.

"You what?" He asked, placing his hand on the table and looking down at her. His cobalt blue eyes darkened, holding her gaze steady. "Explain this to me," he prodded.

Charlotte looked away and focused her gaze on her homework. With nothing to say, she figured that if she sat there quiet, Eddward would eventually drop the subject and leave her alone. Out of the past dances they've had like this, it always ended with him getting frustrated over her silence and leaving her be, so deep down she banked on the same pretense and refused to look him in the eyes. Even if it meant hiding her own feelings.

It wasn't like he really cared, anyway.

"Charlotte," Eddward began, his voice coming out soft. He removed his hand from the table and crouched down beside her. Charlotte shifted in her seat but refused to look at him. Softly, Eddward lifted her chin and she jerked away, fighting the tears that welled up in her eyes. "What's going on with you?" His voice was low and comforting. "I know you're smarter than this," he offered.

"Nothing," she sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

"I know it's been a ro-"

"I said it's nothing," she repeated. Her eyes went hard and despite them being a bit puffy from crying, she looked Eddward in the face, making him sigh. "I'll fix it," she mumbled. Reaching down between them, she snatched her backpack and pulled out a pencil. Charlotte began erasing the few answers she actually wrote last night with such vigor that Eddward was afraid she might rip the paper. Sniffling the entire time, she didn't make eye contact with her father, let alone say anything else.

"Charlotte," he whispered, reaching out to stop her sudden aggression.

"I said I'll fix it. Leave me alone." Charlotte scooted over in her seat, trying to put as much distance between her and her father as possible. Eddward watched her recoil and figured he would do more harm than good if he decided to press the situation. Giving up, a sigh escaped his lips and he stood.

Giving her one last look, Eddward left the kitchen to finish getting ready for work.

The drive to local elementary school was a silent one.

After making sure they both didn't forget anything, Eddward followed Charlotte out of the house once it was locked uptight. From the porch, he unlocked the car with the remote; however, by the time he got to the car to help her get in and buckle up, the backdoor was closed and most likely locked.

"Did you buckle?" He asked once he got in the car himself. Charlotte nodded and a soft "okay" left his lips. Not wanting to waste any more time - since they were already behind schedule - Eddward put the car in gear and pulled out of the driveway.

Neither one said a word for Charlotte already had her headphones plugged in and Eddward was listening to the early traffic news. The report was fairly good, spare for a slight collision on the I-95. He made a mental note to avoid that route on his way to the university.

Turning the corner, Eddward weaved through the early morning hustle and bustle like a professional. The local elementary was no more than fifteen minutes away; however, given the time that they left, it was no surprise he was constantly having to switch lanes in the small sleepy town they lived. Outside on the street, trees were finally spotting with green, some more than others, and planters were blooming with flowers outside businesses. More than once, he had to reduce his speed because either a teenager or a child got either too close to the street for comfort or someone suddenly decided to slam on their brakes. After driving the familiar route for the millionth time, his mind slowly zoned out before coming back when he rounded the corner, seeing Peach Creek Elementary come into view.

Kids and parents walked the block all dressed in different attires. Kids in their favorite clothes displaying their favorite pop stars or superheroes while their parents were dressed professionally with smiles on their faces. Reaching up, Eddward snapped his fingers, getting Charlotte's attention. In the back, he could hear her shuffle and he knew she took her headphones out and stuck them in her bag.

"I won't be here to pick you up after school," Eddward said, pulling into the drop-off and pick-up lane. "Make sure you make it to your piano lesson on time," he added as an afterthought. "Call me if-" the back passenger door slammed shut, Charlotte already half-way up the short walkway that led to the entrance of the school. "Love you too," he mumbled to no one but himself. Eddward watched her go until she disappeared into the school, her ponytail swinging behind her.

Fixing his eyes ahead of him, Eddward squinted at the metallic colored truck he sat behind. With the sun in full blaze, he couldn't really distinguish whether or not the truck was a soft black or a dull gray. It was slightly irritating because the sun's reflection was making his eyes hurt, making him squint in an unpleasant manner.

Eddward watched the back passenger door swing open, followed by a girl with fiery red hair, swaying over her shoulders, jump out. Just as he did, the driver sat and waited until the child was in the school before beginning to pull off but stop at the very last minute. Glancing at the clock, Eddward groaned, he was going to be late. Not wanting to hold up traffic any longer, he blew his horn, making the driver of the truck slightly jump and begin to pull off, once again.

Trying to get back on track, Eddward pulled out right after the truck, heading in the same direction but branching off towards the expressway.

Stepping on the gas, Eddward turned up the radio, tuning into the NPR station.

Huddled in a corner with a half-pint of Chef's Kiss flavored ice cream, Charlotte lounged on a bean bag, twice her size, heavily invested in the new issue of "The Sorcerer's Puzzle of Time." Indulging more in the graphics rather than the plot itself, she soon found herself running her tiny fingers across the artwork, amazed by the simplicity of the drawings and the captivity of the minute details. Always a lover of art, she secretly imagined her trading places with D. Nickels and drawing her own line of comics somewhere down the line.

It was her dream, after all.

Completely unaware - or rather unbothered - by her surroundings, she was lost in the silent buzz of Bunker Comics, truly embracing in its name by being bunkered down in a bean bag herself. An all-time favorite spot of hers, she could always be found here in her unofficial, official seat, far in the back, left corner, orange bean bag. Not to mention her being accompanied by her favorite pint of ice cream, headphones plugged in, and shoes kicked off because God forbid she places them on the already patched and overworn furniture.

Either way, the place was her secret haven.

Being located right under Peach Creek Farm's Ice Cream Parlor, not many knew of the hidden gem. It was truly one of a kind and the best thing the small town had to offer, hands down. With the only entrances being around back and carefully hidden in the parlor, few ever ventured down to what Charlotte offended referred to as "comic book galore."

Spanning the entire length of the parlor and then some, the walls were covered with comic books - both new and old - with a few special items of interest placed here and there. Rugs of mismatched color and furniture of the like brought color into the otherwise dark space. The rustic sliders did wonders in welcoming natural light into the space, but what many patrons liked most about the windows was their ability to give insiders a look into the outside world, without anyone noticing, given that they were all street leveled. On the other hand, however, many would also argue that the way the light changed the atmosphere of the shop was amazing on the sole basis that during the day, the light always had a magical way of shifting everyone's mood as the sun shifted across the sky.

For hours on end, Charlotte could find herself either scarfing down ice cream, draining her savings in one of the beaten up arcade machines, or just simply lounging on a bean bag with a comic in her hand. No one ever bothered her - for kids were always an afterthought - and that she had a certain aura that sent people running. In her mind, she swore it was her superpower and that she would be a great addition to the D. Nickel's Sorcerer series.

Flipping the page, Charlotte barely heard the sound of the chime above the door go off. It was loud enough that it got the owner - Rolf - to turn his head and stare at the backdoor. It wasn't often that someone came in from that door, given that it was a bit under street level and it was well into the late afternoon, almost evening. Either way, it made his head turn out of interest. "Oh," Rolf straightened up, wiping his hands on his jeans, "I should have known it was you."

"Whatever," Ed rolled his eyes, placing a box on the counter. "The delivery man was outside and seemed lost so I signed for you." Rolf looked at the box and mumbled under his breath, it was the second time this month that the delivery people didn't follow his instructions.

"Thanks," he said, picking up the box and placing it on the floor to deal with later. "She's over there," he indicated with his thumb, pointing to the far corner. "Been here all afternoon." Ed followed the direction of his chestnut toned finger and saw the small movement of a purple hat, almost completely hidden by an orange bean bag that was big enough to fit three people easily. "I thought I should call you instead of Double D. Don't want a repeat of last time."

"Thanks," Ed nodded, sincerely. Rolf waved him off and turned around to finish what he was doing, casting both Ed and Charlotte to the back of his mind.

Ed walked over to where the young lady was situated.

Crouching behind her, Ed looked over her shoulder, realizing that she got her hands on the new issue of that sci-fi series she loved so much. Watching her for a bit, he had to hold back his chuckles of her re-reading the pages and running her finger across the artwork. It was quite comical, especially with the tiniest bit of dried ice cream on the side of her mouth.

"What are you doing?" Ed asked, smacking the brim of her hat, making it fall in her face.

"Hey!" She yelled, swatting at his hands. "I'm reading here!" Charlotte squeaked, fixing her hat, leaving a few curls untucked. "What are you doing here?" She grumbled, flopping back in her seat, refusing to look up at the taller one.

"Is that the new edition of that sorcerer series you're obsessed with?" Ed countered, looking down at her.

"Yes," she answered in a nonchalant manner, humping her shoulders.

"Is it any good?" He asked, nudging the bean bag with his foot, making her shuffle in her seat. Charlotte grumbled under her breath and if Ed hadn't known her all her life, the subtle agitation would have gone unseen. "Is it?" He asked again.

"It's alright," she answered but Ed could hear the slight excitement behind her cool manner. "I think Anutrix is going to find the sacred key but I don't know yet. Priharis might try and stop him..." She added as an afterthought, tapping the corner of the comic with her slim finger. Ed hummed behind her and instead of looking up at him, Charlotte turned the page to her book.

And, for a while, they stayed like that.

"Want to talk about it?" Ed asked.

"No," she answered, clipped.

"Hungry?" He countered.

"Chipotle?" She asked, turning her head slightly.

"Am I your Uncle Ed?" Charlotte laughed and Ed leaned down, picking up her backpack. "Let's go, Charlie," he said, shoving her shoulder lightly.

Charlotte jumped up from her seat, quickly slipping into her shoes in a fashion that would make her father cringe beyond belief. Turning around, Ed helped her slip her backpack across her shoulders and onto her back, almost forgetting to stick the comic inside. One all her belongings were gathered, Ed placed his hand on her shoulder, guiding her out the shop.

"Thanks," he said as they passed Rolf, sliding a few bills across the counter.

"Anytime," he answered, not even looking up from the catalog he was flipping through. "See you, Charlie," he called.

"Snitch," she answered, making him snort.

"Dr. Vincent," Ms. Cross called, knocking on his door before poking her head inside.

"Yes?" Eddward answered, looking up from the computer he was heavily invested with.

"I have a copy of those forms you asked me to bring by," she answered, walking into his office. Eddward held his hand out and she passed the stack of files to him. Her hands were nicely manicured, a soft olive color that did wonders in bringing out the soft green hues in her eyes.

"Thank you," he said, flipping through them but not before she passed him his discarded glasses. "I don't know what I would do without you, Ms. Cross," he muttered. At that, she chuckled as she shifted her chestnut-colored hair over her slim tan shoulders.

"I do my best," she smiled softly. "Is there anything else that I can do for you?" She asked, tapping a memo pad that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"No," he said, looking up from the files he held in his hands. "I think I am all good here." Ms. Cross nodded her head and spun on her heels, walking out of his office with the subtle sound of a click-clacking noise falling in her wake. "Thank you," Eddward called after her and she waved the memo pad over her head.

Looking back down at the files, Eddward shifted through proposal after proposal and report after report until his eyes began to hurt and his head began to throb, slightly on the left side. There was only so much academic jargon a person could read in a day and Eddward was getting quite sick of it after the fifth file he skimmed through, not even bothering to really read anymore. Once he signed his name on the dotted line of approval, he tossed the black pen across the desk and leaned his head against the back of his chair.

Soon enough, Eddward found himself practicing the highly proclaimed mindful breathing he's been reading about on the internet. Supposedly, it would do wonders in aiding with anxiety and stress, something he severely needed to address. After taking a few deep breaths, Eddward opened his eyes and looked around his office.

It was everything one would expect for a chairperson at a university to hold, especially the wall that was dedicated to solely showcasing his certifications, licenses, and degrees. It was what Eddy would cull dull and boring, especially for the muted color scheme that spanned the entire office. It was even a bit too big for himself but he would never voice that out loud for he deserved every inch of space after all the years of hard work and dedication he prevailed through.

Stretching his back, Eddward sat up straight and looked back down at the files that were silently calling his name; however, his eyes slowly drifted to the picture frame sitting under his monitor. It was taken a couple of years ago when Charlotte just turned four. Smiling fondly, Eddward picked up the frame and rubbed his hand across the picture. She was sitting on his bed with her curls running wild like they usually did. She was dressed in nothing but one of his old shirts, completely unaware of the world around her, completely focused on whatever cartoon show was airing. What made him smile; however, was that she somehow found an old pair of his glasses and had them sitting on her nose, almost askew.

It was moments like this that she looked more like him than her mother.

"Ms. Cross," Eddward called out. In less than a second, his door was open and her chestnut-colored hair was peeking out from behind the door. "Can you schedule an appointment with Dr. Kim this Saturday?" He asked, not bothering to look up from the picture.

"I'll put it in your calendar," she said and disappeared once again.

"I swear, I will regret this later on," Ed said, setting down the pop filled cup. "This cannot be good for my health," he said, tapping his chest lightly with his fist.

"Is it because you're old?" Charlotte asked, shoveling the last few bites of her bowl into her mouth, not bothering to chew with her mouth closed.

"You don't hold your punches, do you?" Ed joked, shoving her lightly on the shoulder. Charlotte laughed and took a sip of her own pop.

"So, how was school?" Ed asked, leaning back in the booth, it was slightly uncomfortable. They were sitting in the back of Chipotle, munching down on their bowls with chips for the both of them but salsa for her and guacamole for him.

"It was alright," she answered, dipping a chip in salsa and popping it into her mouth. "How was work?" She countered. "Did you get that star you've been wanting yet?" She asked, lifting one of her eyebrows.

"It was alright and no, not yet," he winked down at her, thinking about the stressful criteria he has to fulfill before his restaurant would even be considered for a Michelin Review. "We do miss you around the kitchen," he prodded. "You're always welcomed."

"I know." A grin made its way across Ed's face as he stifled a laugh. It was amazing how cocky she could be, but then again, she was who she was, through and through. "Maybe this weekend if dad isn't too mad at me," she mumbled out.

Ed shuffled in his seat, stretching his arm out on the back of the booth, trying to choose his next words wisely.

"Why would you say that?" Ed asked, taping the brim of her purple hat.

Charlotte humped her shoulders and popped another chip in her mouth.

"He's always mad at me," she said honestly.

"How so?" He prodded.

"You know…" she trailed off, pulling her feet into the booth under her, sitting cross-legged. "I don't know," she added as an afterthought. "He was mad at me this morning. We yelled at each other."

"About what?"

"My homework." Ed nodded his head, knowing this dance all too well.

More often than not, Ed would witness, second-handedly, Eddward's frequent disapproval of Charlotte's behavior in regard to her academics. Those closest to the Vincents knew how intelligent both Eddward and Charlotte were; however, they also understood how vastly different father was from daughter and how familial lineage dictated nothing in regard to personality development.

Simply put, Eddward excelled academically. Charlotte, on the other hand, was lazy.

"Is that why you skipped your piano lesson this afternoon?" Ed asked, knowing the answer before asking. "To get back at your dad?" Charlotte nodded her head and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wipe those ocean-colored windows of hers.

Those closest to the Vincents also understood how poorly they communicated with one another.

"Hey now," Ed said, scooting over and wrapping an arm around her, giving her a one-armed hug. "You know your father just wants what's best for you, right?" He asked, rubbing her shoulder.

Charlotte nodded her head.

"He loves you more than anything in this world and sometimes he just has a difficult way of showing it," he explained, remembering all too well the countless late nights he spent with Eddward, talking about his hopes and dreams for his daughter. "I know you two don't always get along but that doesn't mean he cares for you any less." Ed rubbed her arm. "He just wants what's best for you and sometimes expressing what that is doesn't come out in the best way."

Charlotte nodded her head and looked up at her uncle with tears in her eyes.

"Then why is he so mad all the time?" She asked, uncertainty in her eyes. "I try my best and he's just always so mad."

"It's complicated," Ed said, leaving the complexity of the situation hanging in the air, too intricate for a ten-year-old to understand. "I'm sorry sweetie," he whispered, pulling her closer to him, making sure she felt the endless and unyielding love he held for her. "Want me to beat him up?"

At that, Charlotte laughed, and Ed felt her small frame shake next to him.

He hated it when she cried.

"No," she mumbled.

"You sure?" He asked. "I haven't been in the ring for a while but I think I can take him," he shook her shoulder. Charlotte laughed and shook her head, tears long forgotten.

Eddward and him needed to talk. Again.

"Hello?" Eddward called out, swinging open the front door. A familiar blue truck was parked in the driveway, so he was more than positive both Ed and Charlotte were home.

"In here," Ed called out from somewhere in the back, most likely the kitchen.

Eddward tossed his keys in the bowl that sat beside the front door. They made a soft clinking noise when they came in contact with the glass. Lazily, Eddward removed his shoes and outdoor wear but not before bending over and fixing his daughter's shoes and her sweater that was barely hanging onto the hook.

With the entryway in order, Eddward headed towards the back of the house, following the sounds of pots and pans banging about with the range going full blast. The living room was dark, given that the sun had already set, and Eddward did his best to avoid furniture despite knowing where everything was located. Unfortunately, he would often find himself bumping into things because Charlotte was rough around the edges and had the awful habit of throwing her body wherever she saw fit. Eddward flicked on a lamp, illuminating the oversized living room.

The walls were a pale cream color accented by soft grays and dull blues. The chaise lounge and sectional were both a pristine white that did wonders in highlighting the dark hardwood floors and glass coffee table and fireplace that was hardly ever lit. The pillows were strewn across the furniture with a few on the floor, evidence that Charlotte wasn't too far away, and a bit crooked looking to the naked eye. Using his foot, Eddward lifted part of the sectional and realigned the shag rug that sat underneath and fixed the coffee table and tossed the pillows back into their place.

Dimming the lights, Eddward placed his briefcase in the armchair and headed into the kitchen, loosening his tie along the way.

"Hey!" Ed screamed from behind the island with a knife in his hand. "How was work?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Busy," Eddward answered.

Ed was fast at work making what seemed to be a peach cobbler. He was covered in flour and his hands looked sticky. The counter was at equal standing and Eddward was more than certain it would take a couple sprays of cleaner to remove all the grime. Charlotte was nowhere to be seen but her backpack sat at the table, with what he assumed was her homework, lying in front of the chair, waiting to be looked over.

"Where's Charlotte?" Eddward asked, shrugging out of his suit jacket and hanging it on the back of the same chair where his daughter's backpack hung.

"In her room, reading," Ed answered. Eddward hummed and rolled up his sleeves. "She finished her homework," Ed added, motioning his head towards the table. "I figured you'd want to check, just in case."

"I'll look at it later," he said as he opened the fridge. "What are you making?" Eddward asked, looking over his shoulder as he blindly reached for the water pitcher.

"Cobbler."

"Did she eat?"

"Yup," Ed answered. "We had Chipotle," he smiled. Eddward sat his glass down and stared at Ed. "Don't start with me," Ed looked at him, eyeing the oven door. "It's not like she eats it every day."

"That's not the-" Eddward started but stopped, not really looking to start an argument. "How's the restaurant? Business good?"

"It's going good!" Ed started excitingly. "You should come by this weekend. I think I might hold a trivia night or something." Eddward snorted knowing that if he came it would be practically cheating. "Are you hungry?" Ed asked, wiping his hands off on the apron before pulling it over his head. "I can make you something," he offered.

"No, thank you though," Eddward said before downing the rest of his water. "I had a big lunch," he said as he absentmindedly touched his stomach.

Placing the glass in the sink, Eddward grabbed the other dishes that were used to prepare the cobbler and got to work pre-washing them and tossing them one by one into the dishwasher. Waving Ed off, Eddward grabbed some cleaner from under the sink and wiped down the counters and even the front of the fridge and oven. It was a simple task and Eddward wouldn't deny that he was slightly OCD when it came to cleanliness.

"Mrs. Miller called me this afternoon," Eddward began as he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, directing his attention toward Ed. "Said that Charlotte didn't show for her piano lesson," he finished, listening to Ed hum. "Were you even going to tell me?" He asked.

"Of course I was going to tell you," Ed rolled his eyes.

"When?" Eddward instigated. "After you'd cover for her?"

"No," Ed shot back. "I was going to tell you as soon as you got home but since you brought it up, yes, she did skip her piano lesson this afternoon and I am not the one to blame," he retorted, pointing a finger at Eddward.

"Excuse me?" Eddward asked, cocking his head to the side. "You were supposed to pick her up from school and take her to her lesson. How can this be my fault?"

"I don't know," Ed mocked. "You tell me," he waved his arms out. "Maybe it has something to do with whatever happened this morning."

"That has nothing to do with you," Eddward shook his head.

"Well it does now," Ed shot back, anger building in his voice. "You should have seen her this afternoon," Ed snapped, crossing the kitchen and coming to stand directly in front of the thirty-year-old. "She was a mess!"

"I'm trying here," Eddward said, a bit forceful. "You have no idea what you're talking about!" Eddward took a deep breath to calm himself, glancing towards the entryway briefly before looking back at Ed.

"What is your problem?" Ed asked, leaning forward. "I don't understand you sometimes," he gestured. "You're trying?" He mocked. "Maybe you should try harder," he insinuated, jabbing his finger in Eddward's chest.

"I am doing the best that I can," Eddward smacked his hand away.

"Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with having her be a prodigy, you'd see that she was hurting," Ed said matter-of-factly. Eddward took a step back, trying to reel in his building agitation.

"Don't you think I know she's hurting?" He asked, placing his right hand on the counter and leaning forward. "I know her better than you think," he finished, his voice coming out softer. "I'm her father after all."

"Then start acting like it," Ed finished. "Ever since Marie died-"

"Don't." Eddward clipped - an icy warning clear in his tone - but Ed opened his mouth to argue; however, at that exact moment, Charlotte came bumbling into the kitchen.

"Hey, sport!" Ed faked happiness. "The cobbler is almost done," he said, turning his attention towards the stove. The tension between the two adults being completely forgotten.

"How was school?" Eddward asked, turning his attention towards his daughter as she came to stand next to him. Being short like her mother, she barely struck his hip, but he couldn't resist reaching down and ruffling her hair.

"It was okay," she hesitated slightly. "I won at dodgeball," she shrugged.

"That's great!" His eyebrows shot up. "Proud of you," he said honestly.

At that moment, Charlotte looked up at him and a small smile broke across her face, forcing Eddward to forget his anger and force all the agitation to leave his body.

Children could be so forgiving.

"Did you finish your homework?" he asked and she nodded, looking over at the table. "What about your chores?" She nodded at that too and went to stand next to Ed, looking into the oven.

Two peas in a pod.

"May I have a piece when it's finished?" She asked first looking at Ed and then at her father. Standing to her right and out of her line of sight, Ed narrowed his eyes at Eddward.

"Yes, you may," he answered and she smiled, turning to look back at her uncle. Ed shook her shoulder and she laughed. "Can I help you finish it?"

"Sure, you can pull it out of the over, it's just about done."

Ed stood and pulled down the two pairs of oven mitts that were hanging on the back of the stove. He handed a pair to Charlotte and she slipped them on her hands, despite them being a bit too big for her. Thinking ahead, as he often does, Eddward reached up and pulled down a trivet mat for the hot dish. "Careful," he said, as Ed opened the oven.

Standing behind Charlotte, Ed guided her forward and grabbed the hot dish. A soft chuckle escaped his lips when he heard her stomach growl despite the fact that they ate a short while ago. Together, they carried the dish to the island and slid it onto the mat.

"Ice cream!" She yelled and ducked under her father and headed for the fridge. Without asking, she pulled out a small tub of vanilla ice cream and placed it on the counter. Knowing the mood would sour if he said anything, Eddward turned the oven off and grabbed bowls and spoons out of the cabinets and drawers. Sliding them across the counter, Charlotte climbed up on one of the bar stools and practically laid herself across the counter, wanting to help cut the cobbler.

"If we're not careful, she might bite our hands off," Ed said and Eddward snorted.

Using a spoon and a knife, Eddward let Charlotte cut the cobbler and serve everyone. Even went as far as to let her cut an extra slice for herself and lay on a bigger scoop of ice cream. Ed laughed when she shoveled a spoon in her mouth and gave herself a brain freeze despite the desert simultaneously burning and cooling her mouth in mere seconds. It was quite funny to watch and Eddward had to hand her a napkin and tell her to slow down before she could cause permanent damage.

"It's getting late, sport," Eddward said, whipping the corner of her mouth, watching it fall slightly but it was already a quarter past seven.

"Can you stay?" Charlotte asked, looking at Ed.

"Sorry bud," Ed said, making her mouth form a small pout. "I have an early start tomorrow," he held his hands up in defense. "But, if you're good this week, maybe you can come help me out this weekend?" He edged. "I can always use my star onion cutter," he winked.

Charlotte's eyes widened and she looked up at her father.

"I'll think about it," he answered her silent question. Eddward slid his hands under her arms and picked her up to set her down on the floor.

"Okay," she said with a small nod. Reaching over, Ed ruffled her hair and began walking to the door. Followed by her father, the two walked Ed to the door, making sure he didn't leave anything because he was notorious for having to come back for a forgotten item, one too many times.

"Thank you," Ed laughed, shrugging on his jacket, if it could even be called that given the amount of fringes that were sticking out in every direction. "Alright!" Ed practically yelled. "Where's my hug?" He asked, looking down at Charlotte. Laughing, she slid her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly. With a bit of a lean, he hugged her back. "Can't wait for this weekend," he said but kept his gaze on Eddward.

Eddward rolled his eyes and opened the door for the taller man.

"Drive safe," he said and Ed nodded, flicking Charlotte on the head and walking out the door before she could say anything.

Eddward closed the door and watched as his daughter locked it.

"Bath time," he said and just like that, she was heading up the stairs.

Eddward walked back into the kitchen and proceeded to clean up the small mess. Figuring it would be faster to hand wash everything, Eddward did just that and placed all the dishes and eating utensils back in their place. Giving the counters, island, and stove a once-over, he went to walk out of the kitchen but stopped when he spotted Charlotte's backpack sitting at the table with a folder left out.

Eddward pulled her homework out of the folder and gave it a scan. It was a complete one-eighty from what it was this morning. Her answers were flawless, well thought out, and even legible. Smiling, Eddward chuckled to himself, shaking his head and being partially blinded by his bangs. He slipped the assignments back into their spots and put them in her backpack along with the other supplies she carelessly left out.

Walking out of the kitchen, Eddward headed up stairs, stopping at the bathroom.

"May I come in?" He asked, tapping on the door. He heard a soft yeah and pushed the door open.

Charlotte was standing on an orange step stool, looking at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She was dressed in one of her mother's old shirts. It was aged well and had a few holes in it towards the bottom and a curry stain that just wouldn't come out. It struck just above her ankles and practically hung off one shoulder, but Eddward couldn't bring himself to throw it out.

"Don't forget to floss," he said, coming to stand behind his daughter. Even standing on a stool, she didn't pass his chest. Her hair was sopping wet and he couldn't help but shake his head. Picking up the discarded towel, Eddward got to work toweling it dry but making sure to leave it damp, a trick he learned from his late wife. He reached in front of them into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a few styling products to tame her wild hair.

In silence, he got to work spritzing her ends with detangler and working from the bottom up with a comb. Stopping here and there to let her spit and rinse out her mouth, it was like killing two birds with one stone. Charlotte stood in silence as her father worked through her hair, not even complaining once.

"Tada!" Eddward said, flicking her neatly braided hair over her shoulder. Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I think I did pretty good," he said, admiring his handiwork.

"You did alright," she lied but before he could rebuttal, she was already down off the stool and out of the bathroom, leaving him to clean up her mess; however, thankfully enough, she tossed her solid clothes in the hamper. Not minding the small mess, Eddward closed the shower curtain, wiped off the basin, and adjusted the towels and bath mat. Leaving the fan on, Eddward headed towards his daughter's room which was the furthest down the hall. Knocking once more, he walked into the decent sized room and found her already in the bed.

The walls were a solid navy blue adorned with orange polka dots to match the bedspread of the same color but with a hint of purple. Unlike the rest of the house, her room was a disaster, as if a tornado came through. There were toys on the floor and clothes discarded in piles. Her desk was barely recognizable for it was covered in more clothes and sports equipment. Her dresser was half-opened, half-closed with socks and t-shirts either hanging out of the drawers or squished in between.

It wasn't his ideal design but he gave up the fight when she was six.

"Do you need anything?" He asked, bending over and clearing a path to the bed.

"No," she answered, sinking further into the bed. Eddward nodded his head and sat next to her on the bed that was too small for his long frame.

"Charlotte," he began by closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry for this morning," he admitted, looking down at her. Her blue orbs widened and as quickly as she was going to say something, her mouth hardened and she cast her eyes downward. "I know I can be kind of hard on you, but I want you to know that I want what's best for you, and then some," he said, running his hand alongside her braid. "I won't lie and say that these past few months haven't been easy - because they haven't - and I know I haven't been the best dad but I love you," he said honestly. "You know that, right?" He questioned.

Charlotte nodded her head.

"Nothing in this world will change the way I feel about you," he smiled. "You can hate me and curse me all you want but I will always be your dad. I will always love and be there for you," he added, running his hand under her chin and picking her head up to meet her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

A few tears clung to the edges of her eyes and Eddward wiped them away.

"I'm sorry," she said in between hiccups.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he whispered.

Charlotte sat up and crawled into his lap. Her soft sniffles were muffled into his chest and he stroked her back, letting her cry it out. He was never the one to comfort her but it was time he stepped up to the plate. In between her gentle whimpers, he hushed her and told her that everything was going to be alright.

And, for the first time, he believed himself.

Eventually, her whimpers settled down and the tears stopped flowing from her eyes, and before either of them realized what was happening, she was asleep in his arms, peacefully and soundly. Eddward kissed the top of her head and stroked her face, a face that was beyond beautiful and painfully akin to her mother's. It made his heartache but he would never admit that out loud. Charlotte didn't deserve that pressure nor reminder.

Reaching over, Eddward pulled the covers back and tucked his daughter into bed, making sure the blankets were high enough to keep her warm but low enough to keep her cool. In many ways, she was like him, trapped in a body that refused to settle on one comfortable temperature. He quietly laughed to himself and stood up.

Quietly, he walked around the room and cleaned what he could. He picked up toys that were strewn in every other direction and placed them in the toy box. He hung clean clothes on hangers and placed them in the closet. He folded those that were meant to be in the dresser and not on the floor. In a flash, her desk was organized and silently begging to be used for schoolwork. There was finally a clear path from the door to the bed and from the bed to the desk and from the desk to anywhere in the room.

With the clothes he couldn't decide whether or not they were clean or dirty, Eddward headed for the door but not before glancing back at Charlotte, sleeping with a bit of droll clinging to her lips.

"Goodnight," he whispered and closed the door, making sure to leave it cracked.

Heading further down the hall, Eddward stepped into his own room.

The master suite was everything he could have wanted.

A king-size bed surrounded by gray walls and matching furniture.

Eddward crossed the room and walked into the ensuite bathroom, tossing Charlotte's clothes in the hamper before taking off his own and stepping into the shower. The bathroom itself was quite impressive, considering that it was big enough to host a standalone shower and tub with enough space to walk around and use the double vanity comfortably. It was all anyone could ever want and Eddward appreciated the space more than anything. An easy way to get away from everything, even if he took fast showers.

Stepping out of the shower, Eddward dried himself off and ran a towel through his hair before slipping on a thin robe. He crossed the cool marble flooring towards the double-sided sink and turned the right-sided faucet on. Keeping up with his dental hygiene, Eddward brushed and flossed his teeth, making sure to not miss a spot and rinse with mouthwash.

Satisfied, he left the bathroom and headed towards the walk-in closet.

Sticking to the right side, he rummaged through one of the dressers and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a matching shirt. Discarding the robe, Eddward lotioned his body and slipped the clothes on, shivering as the smooth fabric ran along his skin. It was a feeling he would never get used to, especially since he got into the habit of buying finer fabrics rather than simple cotton. Not being one to wear socks outside of shoes, Eddward slipped his feet into a pair of house shoes and walked back into the room.

Quickly, he placed the robe on the back of the door on the right hook and picked up the laundry hamper, heading towards the door.

Making a pitstop in Charlotte's bathroom, Eddward made quick work of gathering her dirty clothes and walking downstairs towards their mudroom. Even though there was enough laundry to do a load, Eddward didn't feel like being bothered and instead separated the clothes into lights, darks, jeans, and delicates. Satisfied with his sorting, he walked into the living area and fixed what little there was and set the alarm before heading back up stairs.

It was only a quarter to ten and Eddward felt exhausted, even though it was typical for him to stay up until eleven. It was as if a sudden wave of exhaustion overcame him and he wanted nothing more than to slip into bed and sleep, but deep down he knew he couldn't do that just yet.

Instead of heading back to his room, he stepped into his home office and flipped on his laptop. The room was almost a replica of the master suite in regard to the color palate. There was just something about gray he really liked. The walls, however, were covered in either bookshelves or picture frames. The books were of course organized in alphabetical order and by genre but the most recurring theme was solely ecology, his passion.

After years of studying and working in the field, he was finally able to take a step back from the grueling hours and finally maintain a stable work schedule and environment for not only him, but Charlotte as well. It was something that couldn't be avoided, especially since the passing of his late wife. It was something they rarely discussed - what would happen if one of them died - but deep down they both had this mutual understanding that Charlotte would come first, and that is exactly what happened.

He stepped back from the field and took a more stable and reliable job in academia. It gave him a salary most would envy but most importantly made sure that he was home in the mornings and evenings with the occasional late-night meeting. It gave him peace of mind when it came to his duties as a father and provider for what was left of his family. It was all anyone in his position could have hoped for; however, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind prodding at him for not doing more.

Sitting behind the desk, Eddward flipped open files in order to review the current budget for the ecology department. After all the data that was constantly being drawn and the meetings he was forced to attend with other chairs, the university finally announced that it was projecting a sudden influx in environmental science majors in the fall. Which, unfortunately for Eddward, meant he had to find a new adjacent professor, but in order to secure one, that also involved finding the necessary funding for a new position. Not to mention the funding he currently had was extremely limited after he promised to provide more funding for the biological sciences so the department could finally focus more on teaching higher-level courses and mentoring both graduate and doctoral students.

It was a domino effect in action and Eddward wasn't too fond of it.

For the past few weeks, he's done nothing but filter through files and try to find significant ways to move funding from inside and outside the department but the furthest he's got was pissing off a few professors and spicy emails. There was not a specific deadline he was expected to meet; however, with spring already approaching, he knew he was running out of time and needed to pick up the pace, even if it cost him a few hours of sleep at night.

All he had to do was remind himself that it all would be worth it in the end.

With a yawn, Eddward opened the next file and scribbled across a sticky note, glasses sliding slightly down his face.

It was going to be another long night.