Because it'd just so unfair that Elizabeth gets so much attention, but Edward's father isn't even mentioned in the character list on fanfiction…
Edward Sr.'s Pov
I pulled my jacket firmer around me, tightening it as much as it would go. My hand remained locked around the collar of it, the other encasing the handle of my briefcase. My very full, very heavy, briefcase. There never really was such a thing as a break from work.
With my head craned into the wind, I stared down at the paved sidewalk as I forced my legs to keep trekking against the power of the brewing storm, watching my black shoes continue to hit the pavement in a steady rhythmic 'clack.' The sound was just barely audible, but it provided enough of a metronome for me to be encouraged to keep going. The rain hit harder against my back, my brimmed hat and trench coat doing absolutely nothing to keep it from soaking down into my skin. The cold wetness raised goose bumps along my arms, the shivers that were just starting to rake through my body not helping in the slightest.
The buses had long since retired for the evening, their drivers no doubt eager to be out and away from the busy Chicago streets, even if only for a few short hours before having to resume their job. The few cars that were still out sped by me quickly, most likely making their way home to wives and children.
A ghost of a smile raised my lips in barely detectable proportions, the streetlamp that cast long shadows across the night marking the last block separating me from my house.
My warm, comfortable, unbelievably welcoming house.
Walking faster, I had nearly made it to a brisk job by the time I got to the front porch, the pounding liquid immediately coming to a halt as I ducked under the swooped roof. The pattering clattered on above me as I shut the door, pulling off my soaked shoes and laying them on the mat beside me.
Hanging up all the things that were supposed to keep me dry onto the coat rack, I smiled when Elizabeth glided through the kitchen door, a smile brightening her face. No words were exchanged as I pulled her into my arms, holding her there for a long moment as I buried my nose into the top of her flowing bronze curls. Her hands wrapped themselves around my shoulders as she pulled back, pecking me on the cheek and taking her first good look at me.
Her mouth pulled down into a grim line of stern disapproval. "You're going to catch a cold if you keep coming home like this darling. I really wish you'd finish earlier so you'd be able to get a ride."
I brushed off her concern, allowing her to drag me into the kitchen where a premade pitcher of coffee sat on the table, an empty cup in front of my usual spot. "I'm sorry love. Really." I forced the grimace that was arguing to escape away from my face. "But you know what this time of year is like. All the important clients make their appearances; I can't turn them down, not for what they're offering to pay me."
She gave a few soft tsks before realizing I was still standing there, pushing me down into a chair and dancing quickly around the room, grabbing what I presumed to be leftovers from dinner as she went. "We're perfectly well off without the money, you know that. And for heaven's sake, why does the busy season also have to be the rainy one? Why couldn't the Good Lord just say that spring should be spent resting. I wouldn't mind if He had added that one to the Ten Commandments while He was at it."
I chuckled softly as she set a plate of cooled bread and stew in front of me, dropping a fork down next to it. "It's not really that bad though dear. A little rain never killed anyone, nor did a little work." I picked through the chunks of vegetables and beef, saying a mental prayer of thanks as I did so.
She stood there for a long moment, staring down at me and finally crossing her arms. The right side of her hip leaned out, the beautiful blue dress she was wearing hanging down around her curves into an S shape. Her brow pulled down slightly, her head slowly shaking. "Edward misses you." I looked down, the guilt beginning to creep into me. "Every single day when he comes home from school: 'Where's Daddy? When will Daddy be home? Will Daddy read to me tonight? Mommy, when will Daddy read me another story?'" She moved to busy herself with tidying the already spotless room, imaginary clumps of dirt apparently making their way into her vision. "And I always answer him: 'He's at work sweetheart. He won't be home until late. I don't know if he'll be home in time to read to you before bedtime. I don't know when he'll be able to read to you again.' Every night, he sits by that window with a tattered old book and waits for you to come back so you can tuck him in, and every night, I have to watch how his face looks completely crushed when you never show."
Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, the shame eating away at me at alarming speeds. She turned back to me, meeting my gaze for a long moment. "He just wants you to read him a bedtime story. Is that really too much to ask?"
I lingered in question for half a second before pushing myself up, starting to make my way up the stairs two at a time before Elizabeth could say anything further. Any more of the harmless words may have just been enough to completely shatter my already torn heart.
I paused outside the suddenly hard-looking wooden door of his room, the conviction that seemed to be written in the brown knots surprising me. Hesitantly, I reached out, leisurely turning the handle and gently pushing, careful to not entice the squeaky hinge that would occasionally work up. Cautiously, I closed it behind me, carefully making my way over to the small bed that sat on the other side. I sat on the side of it, trying hard not to jostle the blanket coated bundle that lay in the middle of the mattress. I fumbled for the match that always sat on the side night stand, quickly lighting the lamp, engulfing the small space into an instant illumination.
Smiling slightly, I leaned down, softly kissing the pale forehead that was just barely peeking out from beneath the piles of quilts that encompassed the rest of his head. I brushed my fingers over his hair, enjoying the way each strand felt ridiculously perfect under my touch.
"Edward?" I whispered, the sound piercing the still abyss that had been overpowering all else only a second ago. "Edward?" The name fell off my tongue in a semi-sung note, the playful tone reentering my voice after a long day of a flat, melancholy business-like manner of monotone. "Edward, Daddy's home."
Slowly, oh so slowly, little hands were shoved from beneath the layers of sheets, trying to find where the surface was from in the depths below. Amusement taking over me, I reached down to help, pulling them back in accordance with him. A small, round face revealed itself, pink returning to the cheeks as impossibly innocent eyes blinked up at me in two blurry and unfocused emerald stones.
The way they lit up was impossible to miss.
"Daddy!" I never failed to become amazed with how short a time it took for the energy to return to him. A moment later after recovering from hours of sleep, he had half pushed himself up into a standing position, lunging at me in an almost comical way. Miniscule fingers left warm indentations on the back of my neck, as the full, weak strength of a child was hung onto me in what I suppose was meant to be a bone-crushing hug.
I barely felt the pressure.
Chuckling, I pulled him to me, guiding him onto my lap as I took his spot in the middle of the bed, letting him lie on top of me, his entire body nearly fitting onto my torso alone. He didn't release me from the hold he had around me. Instead, his arms were pressed further against me, obviously not willing to let go anytime soon. He seemed to be oblivious of the fact of just how little affects his muscle power would really have in the end, should I have wanted to get away.
But getting away wasn't something I wanted.
I embraced him just as fiercely back, not fully able to wipe away the huge grin that was dominating my expression. I hadn't realized just how much I had missed seeing him these past few weeks.
After a few long minutes, his cherubic face looked up, matching my ecstatic features in a way that made my heart thud against my breast. I never once stopped being amazed at just how beautiful a thing Elizabeth and I could have created. I had never known that we had the capabilities of making an angel together.
"I missed you Daddy." The bell like voice was low, as if what he was telling me was a secret that the world depended on. He pressed his face into my chest, his temple falling perfectly into the crook of my neck as if the two were meant to come together.
I bit my lip to control the gurgled happiness that wanted so badly to come out. "I missed you too, my Edward." Keeping one hand firmly around his waist, I stroked the length of his back, each small rise and fall in texture standing out to me in a brilliance that had been unknown before. "Your mother told me that you've been holding down the house for me while I've been busy."
His head gave a single bob underneath my chin. "Yes."
I felt the excitement begin to gradually drain, replaced by a quiet tranquil as the tiredness from the late hour obviously began to creep back into place. "I came to read to you."
Those six words reawakened him, and in the blink of an eye, all that was left was the heat left over from his body as he raced over towards the corner bookshelf. He began digging through them, apparently not fully caring that he couldn't read a single word out of any of the titles. I suppose the colorful ones were what he was basing his decision on. I watched on, entertained at how he inspected each one before throwing it aside, making his usual piles of 'no's' and 'maybe's', filling the space around him. I couldn't have cared less that I'd most likely be the one to reorganize them.
"Would you like help choosing?"
The simple question seemed to offend him, and he looked up at me with wide, hurt orbs. "You said I could choose this time."
I couldn't help the impulsive laugh that emitted from me, not realizing how important a thing it was for him to do this on his own. Nodding, I let my mind soak in the complete and utter purity of the statement. "Yes, I suppose I did, didn't I?" I wasn't exactly positive how he always seemed to remember all the promises I made to him, but even when months passed, it always seemed that they were there.
At seeming my agreement, he quickly resumed rummaging through the shelves, the oversized nightgown covering his ankles, even as he stood. Within a few moments, he had one clutched closely to him, the cover big enough to nearly conceal the upper portion of his frame. His bare feet thumped lightly against the wood floor as he ran back over to me, jumping back onto me and eagerly shoving his choice to me, looking rather pleased that he had gotten the very important duty of finding one done.
I sat back up, pulling him to me once more, his back leaning against me as I placed the book in his lap, looking over his head to get a clear view of it in the dim lighting.
What I saw surprised me.
It wasn't one of the more attractive looking ones, like I was expecting him to want to get. On the contrary, it was old and worn, the edges of the blank sheet browning. The corners were bent, the paper under it obviously ripped and crumpled, stains lining them. The only real decoration to it was the centered title.
I shook my head in disbelief, wondering why on Earth he'd want something so…mature.
When I didn't open it right away to begin reading, he tugged impatiently at the bottom of my shirt, looking up at me in obvious want. "Edward, this is about vampires. I'm not sure you'd like something like this. It might give you nightmares."
His brow furrowed. "Mommy found it in the attic. She said I could have it." When I still didn't move, he gave another firm tug. "Daddy, can you read it? I want to hear it."
Sighing, I mentally berated myself for not having the power to deny that face.
I began to read.
Just a short little thing that I had to get on paper :). You don't have to review or anything if you don't want to. I know it sucked. But I just feel so bad every time I see so many things that revolve around Elizabeth, and then nothing but brief mentions of her husband.