Beautiful Disaster

"Do we have anything to hide?"

I wish I didn’t feel a pang of hurt inside as I say that but at least my voice is steady and as inconspicuous as it gets, and Jazz doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Instead he’s scratching his head, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Maybe we just don’t have anything to advertise?"

Of course he’s right, but that doesn’t change things.

"I think everyone except my parents knows that you’re crashing on our couch, so it won’t be that much of a surprise if we show up together. And you heard my mom, she’ll probably tell everyone that she ordered Bella and me to drag you along, so I think we should be safe."

He’s still not looking convinced, but then Bella calls for us to get dressed, which concludes out brief discussion. I’m still lost in thoughts when I’m done shrugging into my clothes, but Bella’s unnatural behavior finally draws my attention. She’s still only in her black bra and panties, rifling through her stuff, haphazardly pulling things off a hanger and shoving them back after a moment’s study. Just when I want to ask what’s going on she pulls out a sleeveless black dress and turns to me, her brows furrowed.

"Would this make me look like a slut?"

Again I have to swallow the impulse to say the first thing that comes to my mind – which in this case is a tie between me informing her that I’d love to bend her over and f**k her when she’s wearing only that dress and stay-ups, and telling her that I don’t mind as long as she’s my slut – and immediately shake my head.

"No, of course not, it’s very elegant and classy. But you’d be hopelessly overdressed."

I pointedly look down at my own gray shirt and dark blue jeans.

"I know!" she sighs, then goes back to finding something else. Jazz joins us a few minutes later, cautiously sticking his head into the bedroom to see why we’re taking so long. He still doesn’t know, and I wonder if he’s disappointed not to have again walked in on us getting it on.

"Outfit troubles," I inform him, and he looks as puzzled as I feel.

"What’s the fuss? It’s just Thanksgiving dinner, I don’t remember anyone ever dressing up for that."

I shrug, neglecting to mention that last year Bella wore a similar dress to the one that she just showed me, only in pale blue, and I would have loved to f**k her right on the dinner table in it. Sadly she had still been with Mike then, and the only thing blue I had come in contact with had been my balls.

Turning to us both now Bella holds up a sweater and cardigan combo that causes Jazz to snort derisively.

"How old are you, eighty?"

She sighs heavily, then keeps on searching. Jazz eyes me askance but I can only shrug, not knowing myself what this is all about. I also don’t really remember anything of her wardrobe that isn’t linked to my mental note of

"needs to be f**ked in", so I’m keeping my tongue about suggestions.

Bella eventually gives up and just slips on some dark jeans and a purple blouse, although from the way that outfit accentuates her ass and tits my sentiments haven’t really changed.

Bundled into a few more layers against the cold we finally make it to the car and into the light afternoon traffic. Jazz is banished to the backseat to watch the casserole, while Bella keeps the cranberry relish on her lap, as if to fend anyone off who might try to snag a taste. They both seem lost in their own thoughts so I busy myself with humming along to the songs on the radio in an attempt to ignore my own risinganxiety.

I’m somewhat tempted to suggest we just keep on driving and avoid the whole possibility for disaster, when at the last traffic light before we reach my parents’ house a familiar vehicle comes to a stop in the lane next to us.

Emmett grins at me from the driver’s side, an unfamiliar place for him since Rose never gave up driving until she had the little bundle of joy currently sleeping in her mother’s arms next to him. At her husband’s antics Rose looks up, too, pursing her lips at what I guess is a frown on my face.

The light switches to green and Emmett, for once behaving as childish as Rose so often claims that he is, hits the gas to slip into my lane before us.

That way we arrive just after them, conveniently spilling all of us together onto the well-tended front steps.

There’s the usual greeting, hugging and back slapping, before Rose and Bella both snark at us guys to get the heavy stuff from the cars instead of gossiping. When I pass by her Rose gives me a pointed look as if to silently ask what is going on, but I ignore her, deciding to play dumb instead.

Before I can reach the door it already opens, revealing my smiling mother.

Never minding that we’re all carrying goods and babies, respectively, she kisses Bella and Rose, then hugs me warmly before she does the same with Jazz and Emmett without even hesitating for a second. Herding us before her she directs us to the kitchen, and after that I have the pleasure of barely receiving a nod from my father. His disapproval is still palpable and he doesn’t even try to hide it – and all that before he could even have found out what new, or not so knew, things I’ve been up to.

As accepting as my mother is, he has always felt like any of my actions reflect back on him badly, and being one of the youngest doctors in the history of our state doesn’t do a thing to counteract the oh so obvious flaws adhering to me. His words, not mine, and for once I’m surprised how little I’m caring about his disapproving stare.

As always, since the fateful night my parents got to know a lot more than they ever wanted to about their son’s private life this summer, Bella takes it upon herself to run interference, first hugging Carlisle, then plastering herself to my side so that there’s nothing I can do except snake one arm around her waist and let her show everyone just how comfortable she is with me. Whether that’s a conscious action or not I still don’t know, and neither do I care. Only that today I feel a bit of an ass as that leaves Jazz standing on his own with happy couples all around him – the effect only getting ten times worse when suddenly Alice steps out of the dining room, holding hands with an unfamiliar guy.

Bella goes still as a statue at my side, and I allow myself a weary if silent sigh. She and Alice have never been the best of friends, and I can only guess what the things Jazz told us yesterday must have done to that fragile bond of female friendship. I myself don’t blame Alice, and the addition of someone to this dinner who probably doesn’t know about what went on between all of us this year actually makes me glad. It also makes me feel like a wuss, but not having this end in a disaster would make for a better day.

There’s a moment of awkward silence when every one of the newcomers is taxing Alice and her arm candy, and as this is still my home, even if I haven’t lived here for years, I feel obliged to act a little more civil than I would otherwise do. Extending my hand towards him I offer him a smile.

"Hi, Edward, and this is Bella and Jazz."

I can’t tell if Alice notices just how fluently I include Jazz, but she doesn’t show it, only smiles back at me after we have completed the brief handshake. He’s a bit older than us, maybe in his early thirties, and not what I would expect her to go for ever. He’s handsome, but more in an academic geek kind of way than the obvious good looks she usually goes for, also dressed the part in conservative dress slacks and jacket, but thankfully no tie.

"Nice to meet you, I’m Nate," he introduces himself, his voice a little small with what I gather must be the usual apprehension of meeting his girlfriend’s friends, including parents. His behavior towards Jazz is rather civil, surprising me a bit, and his face positively lights up when he turns to Bella. "We’ve met already, right? Yesterday, in the book store?"