#I couldn't find a good spot to end it and Alice's prank is my favorite part

[jessicanjpa]

happy mother's day

It's Alice's first time baking with Esme! An excerpt from this 1957 one-shot. Esme POV.

"I'm home!" I called out from the garage. "And I could use some help!"

I heard Alice's delicate sigh three floors up. By the time I got around to the trunk and opened it, she had flitted to my side wearing a new striped yellow dress and a pitiful look of resignation. She stuck out her arms and I began filling them with bags of groceries.

"You don't really have to do this, you know," I teased her, scooping up the last four bags myself.

"I promised," she said, and her pout turned upward into the smile that was never very far away.

"You did! And it's a chance to learn something new. The older we get, the more we'll treasure opportunities like this."

"I suppose I will. But ugh! Why do you buy so much at the grocery store, and so many things that smell funny?"

We set the groceries down onto the kitchen counter all in a neat line. Alice rooted through the bags, her nose wrinkling more with each one. "I don't even know what this one is!" she complained, pulling out an enormous zucchini with two reluctant fingertips.

"A zucchini. It's a kind of squash. That's what we're baking," I reminded her. "Zucchini bread. And you know how important it is to keep up appearances, especially when we're new. Some of it does go to waste, but we end up donating a lot of it in the end."

We had enjoyed a good, long stay in Klamath Falls. Emmett had, unfortunately, had an accident near the middle of our time there. But it had been an easy cleanup, so it hadn't interrupted our stay. Edward had been able to earn his bachelor's in music performance and Rosalie had finished a degree in bio pre-med. Carlisle and I were fiercely proud of both of their achievements. And even though Emmett had drifted aimlessly between majors for his entire stay at Southern Oregon college, my mother-heart had nearly burst to see him come so far. He hadn't even been able to read when Carlisle had first changed him.

But six years was pushing it; the children hadn't really known what to do with themselves after graduation, knowing we wouldn't have much time left, and Carlisle was starting to get jokes at work about having found the fountain of youth. So after some traveling, we had ended up here in northern Michigan. Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett had just started high school again last week. Alice was torn; we had all hoped that she and Jasper would both be joining the others in school this time, but Jasper was still reluctant. The rest of us all thought he was ready. The only way our newest vegetarian was ever going to trust himself at school was to go and practice being at school. He was dragging his feet and he knew it, but it was his choice in the end. I just wished Alice would go ahead without him and enjoy herself.

My darling girl, full of sunshine! I busied myself getting the ingredients ready, smiling as I watched Alice take the groceries out of the bags, peering at each item as if it were from another planet. Out of all of us, she was the only one who had no memories of her human life—no memories whatsoever of things as commonplace as eating and preparing food. The whole concept was completely foreign to her, and until today she had skillfully avoided my every cajoling effort to join me in the kitchen. Everyone except her had taken at least one turn by now, even Emmett and Jasper. But I had won in the end.

"It's almost Mother's Day," I said to her last Tuesday. "And there's something I really would love; let's see if you can figure it out without any hints."

That was all it took; Alice couldn't resist a challenge for her visions. She loved stretching her gift like this, especially where shopping and surprises were concerned. She eagerly plunged into the silent world of pictures that swirled around inside her head, visiting department store after department store and flipping catalog pages, all without moving a muscle. It took her three days to figure it out.

"Esme!" she pouted, bursting in on me as I was painting that third afternoon. "That's not even a real present!"

"It is to me," I said, opening my arms for her reluctant hug. "You know I've always wanted to bake something with you." She made a face, but she also promised to follow through.

"Hand me the whisk, would you, dear?" I asked her now. She dug through the drawer of mysterious cooking implements, zoning out for a moment, no doubt to peek ahead and see what a whisk even looked like. I donned my favorite apron and tossed another one to her.

"I'll beat the eggs and oil and sugar if you'll peel and grate the zucchini," I offered.

"Gladly," she said, peering with distaste into my bowl. "I will never understand why humans like to scramble up animal embryos. Isn't that... kind of gross?"

"It is when you put it that way," I laughed. "I can't say it appeals to me either, not anymore."

Alice was concentrating, trying to figure out how to peel the zucchini. She was holding the peeler steady and drawing the vegetable back and forth along it instead of the other way around.

"Try the opposite way," I suggested gently. "You hold whatever you're peeling still and draw the peeler downwards, away from you. Then lift it up and start at the top again." She nodded and tried again, sticking her tongue out in concentration. Her pressure wasn't quite right and she ended up peeling away a good half of the zucchini itself, but I adored her effort. I laid three more down for her to do.

"You know I like to bake for various local things now and then," I explained, whisking the oil into the eggs and sugar at superspeed. "Hospital fundraisers, the children's ward, sometimes an event or two at whatever school you all are attending... Good. Now you're going to grate the zucchini right into this mixture." I demonstrated first this time.

"I'm sure they appreciate the gesture," she said, "but you and Carlisle give gobs of money to those things anyway. Wouldn't store-bought cookies or bread be just as good?"

"Heavens, no! They aren't baked with love when those industrial machines do the work. And it makes me feel good, too. It feels like I'm actually participating in a way that feels familiar and human. Baking was a way I showed love to people in my first life, so I kept on doing it in my second, even when I wasn't ready to go out at all. It's a shame I can't enjoy the food myself, but it's still special."

"You used to volunteer at Carlisle's hospitals, didn't you?" Alice asked.

"Now and then, yes. But it's been a long time." I hesitated for a second. "I've been thinking of a new adventure lately—going back to school."

"Really? You would pose as a college student?" She looked doubtful.

"I would be a college student," I laughed. "Why, do you think I look too old? I might need a little help from you and Rosalie..."

That perked her right up. We started chattering about ways we could make me look younger: hairstyles, makeup, styles of clothing and jewelry and shoes and purses, even ways I could talk differently. Alice got so focused on our brainstorming that her grating went faster and faster until her fingertips accidentally smushed the grater's holes in on themselves and she had a big mush of zucchini pulp on the other side. She put everything down and scowled at it.

"I don't think I'm going to be good at this," she said with a sigh, picking at the grater with her fingernails to make the holes right again. "For all I know, I've never done any of it before."

"It's all right," I assured her. I moved on to the dry ingredients in my own bowl. "We're so... perfect at so many things that I find it can be refreshing to not be so good at something, or to at least be so new at something that we can make mistakes. I bought several. Just try again." She took another zucchini, moving more carefully this time. She was concentrating so hard her tongue was sticking out the corner of her mouth again. She was so adorable; I couldn't resist. I snapped a picture before she could change her pose. She didn't even notice. Everyone had grown used to my clicking shutter by now.

Jasper had quietly joined us a moment ago. He was leaning against the kitchen door frame with his arms folded, watching Alice with the most tender, thoughtful smile. He caught my attention behind her back and twisted that naughty little corner-grin of his, the one he got whenever he was about to prank Emmett somehow. He pounced and grabbed her from behind, making her scream.

"I'm sorry!" he laughed, letting her go and dodging the half-grated zucchini she tried to slap him with. "It was just too easy—I could tell you were too immersed in your, uh..."—he gestured toward the mixing bowl vaguely—"for visions, and the stink was strong enough for a good stealth operation... what?" he added, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing," Alice said sweetly, turning back to stir the putrid green mixture. "Just thinking of how I'll get you back."

"It was worth it," he promised, wrapping his arms around her again, this time for a peck on the cheek.

"Hmm," was all she said. Her eyes were absent, scanning the future. I picked up the camera again, just in case.

"I think you'd better get out while the getting's good," I told Jasper. "Unless you'd like to help out too?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "No thanks. I've already served my time. Emmett and I are going out to whip up some dinner of our own."

"You ready?" Emmett called out, just coming down the stairs. Alice whipped around and flicked a heaping spoonful of zucchini mush, hard, straight at Jasper's face. Jasper ducked just in time for the missile to fly over his head... straight into Emmett's open mouth.

I laughed and took the picture just as Emmett's eyes bulged out in horror. He spewed it all out, and it just happened to time perfectly with when Jasper stood back up, so he got a faceful as well. He swiped furiously at the mess and his mouth, and I got one more picture to commemorate the moment when my newest son tasted human food for the very first time. He looked like he was actually going to vomit, and he sounded like it too. He finally rushed over to the sink and flushed it all out with water, leaving a bright green trail everywhere he stepped. Alice was serenely stirring the batter, humming to herself.

"Was it still worth it?" she asked innocently.

"No," Jasper said, shuddering one last time. "It was not. Real funny, Emmett."

"You're blaming me?!" Emmett practically yelled. He was wiping his mouth out with my brand new kitchen towel. I sighed and took it from him, dropping it in the trash; I had learned the hard way never to put venom in the washing machine.

"I guess not," Jasper sighed, growling playfully at Alice as he passed instead of giving her a goodbye kiss. Emmett relaxed and turned to go, but Jasper flew up behind him and punched him so hard in the gut that a dribble of venom and old blood gushed out of his mouth. Emmett grabbed Jasper and roared and yanked the back of Jasper's shirt over his head before he could struggle out of Emmett's bear-sized grip.

"Take it outside," I warned them. I grabbed another towel and rushed to get the blood and venom before the dining room floor could start dissolving.

"NOW!" I shouted as they tumbled blindly into the sofa, knocking it askew by several feet. It took them a minute, still snarling and struggling to get a grip on each other, but they got out the back patio door without causing any further carnage. I caught the floor lamp as it fell, an inch before it hit the ground.

"Those two, I swear," I said, dropping the towel into the trash with the other one. "And you saw that whole thing, didn't you?"

"Who, me?" Alice said, stirring furiously.