Thursday, April 26, 2012

Finding Love Through Music Teaser

“Daddy said we’re going to the pool.”

“Which suit do you want to wear, Emma?” I asked.

“The purple one,” she said. I opened up the dresser and handed her the purple and blue halter bathing suit. She took it and skipped to her adjoining bathroom. I put her cover-up and a pair of sandals on the bed for her change into.  “Can you braid my hair, Bella?” She sat on the bed, giving me the saddest puppy dog look. Ever.

“I’ll give you a traditional French braid, miss thing,” I said. “I don’t want to put the halo in again since we’re going to be out in the sun. Getting a sun burn on your part sucks.”


“Yeah,” I said as I had her sit on the bed in front of me. I brushed my fingers through her hair. “I was about thirteen and I was on the beach with my mom. She had put two French braids in my hair to keep it from my face. At the time, I was just so excited to go out in the sun that I didn’t think to put sunscreen on my part. Everywhere else, yes. But my head? No. It was horrible, Emma. It itched something awful and when it came to the peeling stage, it looked like I had the worst dandruff ever. I was teased for the rest of the summer by the mean girls that lived down the street.”

“Meanies,” Emma said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“They were mean, but last I heard, two of them were divorced and the size of a large whale,” I snickered. “Who is laughing now?”

“Not them. You’re so pretty, Mommy,” she said, looking back at me. “I love you. Even if you did have nasty dandruff.”

“Um, thanks, Emma,” I snickered. “I love you, sweet girl.” I finished her braid and sent her downstairs. I followed her and changed into my own suit: a gray tankini with a halter and a water color sarong in my favorite color. Pink. Ironically enough, I actually like the sarong. It was soft and pretty. Plus it was the only one that matched the bathing suit. I packed the beach tote with sunscreen, towels and several books. Edward was sitting outside spraying the hell out of Emma with her SPF 100 sun block. But she took it without argument.

Apparently, Jessica, in one of her finer moments, neglected to put sun block on Emma while in Disney World and she got sun poisoning. Ever since, Edward was a freak about sun screen. Hell, so was I. “Why don’t I just put you in a burka, Emma-bear? You’re so white.”

“Yeah, hi. Pot meet kettle,” I teased as I flicked his earlobe.

“You too, Miss Swan. We should be the poster children for sunscreen. We’re all so pasty,” he quipped. “I think you’re done, angel. Next albino.”

“Oh, hush,” I said as I arched a brow at him. “Let’s go, Professor. We can lather up at the pool. I’m guessing that Emma wants to jump into the water, right?”

“Yes!” she said as she bounced on her toes. Edward smiled and plucked her up, putting his daughter on his shoulders.

“Can you hand me my sunglasses, Bella?” Edward asked. “I’ve got a growth on my neck.”

“Daddy,” Emma whined. Edward looked up at her and tickled behind her knees, slightly. Her responding giggle was musical and happy. 

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