A/N-Alright, so I found a lost chronicle in the Cooking With Edward series. It's been sitting in my E and B folder for a while and I've just been uninspired to do anything with it. I hope you all enjoy it. I know there are several that have been wishing for another chapter… believe me when I say, this is the final one.

So, without much more than to say that I don't own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, or Breaking Dawn, enjoy the little tidbit. And thanks to all you faithful readers that love Chef Edward.

I hummed softly as I scraped dried cherry filling off the ceiling. I was balanced on the island counter top, scrubbing at the offensive material that was stuck on my newly textured kitchen ceiling.

It didn't matter that I had plastered the ceiling in about thirty minutes. It's that I had done it in such an intricate way that gummy food seemed to cram itself into the intricate cracks in the sculpting, making it difficult for me to pick it out.

"That's an interesting face," Bella laughed up at me.

"I am rethinking the plaster on this ceiling. Not that I predict any more food fights. But I don't want to have to pick any more food out of these little holes." I scowled down at her.

"Well, Mr. Fix-It, you're the one who did all this." She shrugged, "Do you want some help?"

She reached to hoist herself up on the countertop before she heard my answer. Bella on a marble countertop was not a safe scene in my mind.

"NO!" I shouted irrationally. I didn't mean to scare her. It just happened. And I saw Bella's nasty fall in Alice's mind as she raced towards the kitchen.

"Bella," Alice sighed, as soon as she prevented Bella from falling into the floor, "You really, really need to stop placing yourself in dangerous situations."

"It was my fault," I quickly maneuvered myself down and took Bella from Alice, "I frightened her because I was trying to prevent her from falling. But yelling just made her fall."

"Talk about graceful." Alice smirked, bouncing back out of the kitchen. She wasn't talking about Bella.

"I'm sorry," I frowned down at Bella. She was smiling though. Obviously, I was already forgiven.

"It's alright. It was a bad idea," she confessed, "Now let me down. There's still cherry everywhere."

"I'm sorry you didn't get to eat more of it," I sighed, wiping a splatter of tan and red goop off of the wall.

"It's alright. Cherry isn't my favorite anyways." She shrugged, "It's just the most fun to play with around all of you."

"You are seriously sick," I shook my head at her. She had become more and more accustomed to teasing all of us. Too comfortable for my liking. She was supposed to be afraid of us, but instead, she started food fights with us.

Granted, a good food fight for my family, in reality, would be a skirmish over who got the grizzly bear or some other large game we found in the woods.

As I wiped down another wall, I mind wandered to thinking of Bella as a vampire. It gave me pleasure to think about it and but panic followed shortly after.

Would there be things that she would miss about being a human? Would there be ideas and feelings and emotions that she would have to leave behind? And what about the trivial things? The things that hadn't meant much to me, only because I'd never really discovered them. Would she mind the fact that we would never be able to stay in one place? That after a short period of time we would have to move again?

A deep sadness filled me. I wanted Bella to stay human. To have all those experiences I never had. That I never would have. I felt almost physically sick thinking about Rosalie and her longing for a baby. Would Bella feel that way in a few years? Would she pine for a family life and to grow old, like Rosalie once she never could? And that was just one of the things Bella would have to give up!

"Edward," Bella's voice called me out of my thoughts, and back to the present, "What's wrong?"

I blinked, looking at where my hand had been rubbing against one spot in the wall. All the paint and plaster was gone, leaving a hand sized hole.

"I'm just worrying about you, as usual," I gave her a wan smile, dusting off the plaster from my hands.

"What is there to worry about? There won't be a thing to worry about in a couple weeks. After graduation." She reminded me, slyly.

"That's exactly what I'm worrying about." I sighed.

"Why?" She scowled, "It's not like you have to do it."

"It's not that. I'm just thinking about after." I lifted her up onto the counter and placed my hands on either side of her, "I really want to know what regrets you'll have."

"Regrets! I can't believe you think I'll have any!" she barked out a harsh laugh, "You are the only thing I want. Forever. I won't have regrets."

"Ok, maybe regret is too heavy a word. What about just—things that you'll miss about being human?" I was trying to make her understand, but I could tell she thought I was just overreacting.

"How about things I won't miss?" Bella asked, "There's my clumsiness and my weakness. The hindrance I create in you by the smell of my blood. I definitely won't miss Mike or Lauren."

"Be serious," I rolled my eyes, "There has to be something that you'll miss—someone? Charlie and Renee, maybe?"

"Of course, I'll miss them!" she exclaimed in a defiant tone, "But eventually I'll forget them, right?"

I frowned at her. This was getting me nowhere. A part of me longed to have Bella forever. But she didn't understand. She didn't see what I did. What I know I missed.

"Bella, I am convinced I don't remember my parents because of the fever. Rosalie remembers her parents. And so does Carlisle for that matter. Jasper remembers much of his human life. It's just fuzzy. How do you think we'd be able to tell our stories if we didn't at least have some sort of memory?" I tried this argument, all the while searching her chocolate depths.

She was silent for a moment.

"Edward," she placed a hand on my cheek, "Nothing you could say would change my mind."

"But I—"

"Aw man," Emmett's voice cut through my next argument, "The kitchen still isn't clean. Edward, what have you been doing? You could clean this up in five minutes. We're going to watch movies."

What exactly are you doing? Emmett's thoughts screamed at me, There is no reason Bella shouldn't be one of us.

I helped Bella off the counter and scowled at Emmett. I was balancing very precariously on this issue. Of course I wanted Bella with me—it had been so painful to be away—but these pieces of me wanted her to remain human. To know what humanity was like. To experience the things I had not.

I sighed inwardly. Each day that we inched closer to graduation was a day I lost the initial fight. I watched Bella's long hair, as she followed Emmett into the living room, where it looked like a movie marathon was about to start.

If I hadn't been so distracted I would have paid attention to the noise. It was miniscule. Something that a human ear wouldn't have heard. It sounded like when a human's skin is being ripped off by the friction a vinyl chair creates. Or dried food falling off a ceiling.

So when the pie fell off the ceiling and into my hair, I am pretty sure my grimace was fierce. That didn't stop my brothers and sisters from collapsing into fits of laughter at the sight.

"Alice," Bella addressed my sister through the laughter that floated into the kitchen, "Standing here like this—doesn't Edward look like he has a head wound?"

She had a devilish gleam in her eye. And for one moment, I knew what was going on in that beautiful head. The cherry tarts had to go.

"Bella, the only person who would lick that head wound is you," Emmett laughed.

"Ew." Alice scrunched her nose up, and suddenly I was seeing the picture in her head. Bella licking my hair.

"That's enough," I growled, "I don't know if that was a prediction, or just an image from your mind. No matter what, get it out of your head and never let it pass through mine again."

"Bella, shame on you!" Alice giggled mercilessly, "I would have never pictured that on my own."

This brought about another round of loud laughter at my expense. I just turned and resolutely began scrubbing down the cherry and pie crust glazed counters, grumbling unintelligibly.

A/N- Poor Edward. We're always laughing at his expense.