"I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish. I wish tonight." We spoke the words together that night, our hands clasped painfully, skin taut as the whites of our knuckles glowed in the moonlight.
"Do you think it will come true?" I asked, my breath fogging the window pane, and my eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I really hope so Bella," his voice was small as his grip impossibly tightened.
"What if it doesn't?" I didn't want to say the words, to acknowledge that maybe this last ditch effort in keeping us together would not work out was unthinkable.
He silently shook his head at my question. I wondered if he was afraid that his voice would show too much emotion, or applying the rules of birthday wishes, answering would cause the wish to become void. But his intensity never wavered as he continued to watch out the window; he just clung to my hand as if willing the answer to be written in the stars.
The dawn of the next day proved that our prayers were unheard. The awful truth had stayed the same I was moving, and my new residence existed half-way across the country. I was leaving my father, Forks, and Edward behind as my mother sought greener pastures as a single woman. Caught up in the tangled web of divorce, all that I was familiar with was now being taken away.
I hugged my father, promised I would send a letter as soon as we got settled in Phoenix, and climbed into the cab of the truck. I didn't hesitate though I wanted to. Having lashed out with tantrums and threats of running away previously I knew the situation was out of my control.
I watched through the side mirror as my Dad swiped his hand across his eyes, trying to hide the tears that escaped before they were noticed. I remember yearning to hop from the truck and run over to comfort the man who had been my source of reassurance for so long.
The one who had held me close after I was jolted awake and terrified; who had used my admiration of his profession to threaten the monsters with jail time if they "came back to scare his little girl." At that moment even my young mind could comprehend that in this instance I was playing a part in the fruition of one of his worse nightmares. My heart broke for him as I heard the driver side door open and my mother climb in beside me.
"Honey," my mother began quietly, "honey, it's going to be ok. You'll love Phoenix, just think of all the sun." She paused, realizing I had yet to meet her gaze. "Sweetheart do you know what you get when you mix sun and rain?"
"I'm not four. You get a rainbow." my voice was dead as I answered her, never taking my eyes off my father's figure in the mirror.
"Well honey, just think of it that way. You may be leaving Forks, but there will always be a part of you that stays here. Maybe by adding the sunshine of Phoenix you can turn into -" she stopped as my head whipped around and she caught my icy glare. "Ok sweetheart, lets just get going."
She sighed as she started the truck, and we began pulling away from the curb. I watched my father spin around, and shoulders slumped, start up the walkway to our -his- front door.
My father's new bachelor pad, my childhood home. White siding stained by the constant moisture, the black pitched roof that reverberated the sound of the rain and surprisingly never leaked, the madrone at the corner of our house, and the forest that lined our yard at the back and sides. The color moss and evergreens that had been the backdrop of my entire life. It seemed as if the branches waved a silent goodbye as the wind picked up from the approaching storm.
Right before we reached turn where my childhood would vanish from view, I caught the sight of copper hair against lush vegetation, small and almost hidden within the forest. As we made the turn my eyes fell to the words written on the bottom of the mirror: Objects in the Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear