Mommy, Don't Be So Sentimental
"I'm a rainbow today,
All the colors of the world,
I'm a rainbow today,
All the colors of the world,
I'm a rainbow today,
All the colors of the world are in me."
It was the chorus to little Renesmee's new favorite song. I stood in the doorway of her room, she was sleeping. Her small chest lifted and fell in a soft rhythm, the sound of her deep breaths gave me comfort; she must have been having sweet dreams. Renesmee was nearly a year old and she had the appearance of a ten or eleven year old. The Kira Willey CD was in her CD player and the song "Colors" was playing on repeat, being the last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep. I wanted to move forward and take her hand, to see what she was dreaming of. But lately my beautiful daughter had been sleeping so lightly that I feared the touch of my cold skin would wake her. So I contented myself with standing near her, hearing her breathing, and just seeing her rest. The CD player made a small mechanical popping noise as the song started again.
"I am green today,
I chirp with joy like a cricket song.
I am gray today,
Gloomy and down like a morning fog.
I am orange today,
Loud and messy like finger paint on the wall."
This drew a smile from me. The last line had triggered the…mother side of me; the side of me that wants to pull out a photo album and weep over her child's baby pictures. As painful as watching your child grow up must be for parents, I was sure it was so many times worse for me. I was losing her too fast, not the figurative "too fast" that most parents use, but literally. She'd be full grown in six years, and for most parents six years is just the beginning of the journey of being a family. I'd miss most of her childhood, and so would everyone else. We did, however, have one thing most parents don't have: eternity. I may miss her youth, but we'd all be together forever, and that was comforting. The song started again and I listened for a few more minutes before extracting myself from the doorway to go open one of the many, many photo albums Alice had provided us with.
"I am orange today." I sang to myself quietly as I leafed through the pages. I stopped on one of the more recent entries. There was a picture of me holding a very messy Renesmee in my arms. I was laughing and a smiling Renesmee was reaching up to touch her white-painted finger to the tip of my nose.
On a day with not much else to do, Renesemee had approached Esme and Alice and asked them for a project. It was Alice who came up with the idea, naturally. She pulled out can upon cans of white house paint and ordered all of the Cullens to work. The house didn't really need to be painted, of course, but it was one of my favorite days since becoming a vampire. The sun was shining for the first time in months and the clearing around the house sparkled like a diamond cave between the nine of us. Jake came too, but for once he held back and let me spend more time with my daughter. It was a gesture that I much appreciated. Oddly enough the sun seemed to put us all in a very rambunctious mood. Emmett and Jasper were competing to see who could finish their side of the house first, Esme and Carlisle were judging, Alice was dancing around with her dry paintbrush. Edward and Jake were teasing, talking, and debating like High School jocks. I had been watching them with a big grin on my face until Renesmee turned around and knocked a bucket of paint off the top of the nearest ladder and splashed it all over the front of my shirt. Everyone froze, looking at me nervously (except, of course, Alice who looked horrified that my new clothes had been defaced). Renesmee was wide-eyed, waiting for my reaction. With a straight face I bent down, picked up my wet paintbrush and swiped it across her face. She looked shocked for a moment, and then she grinned maliciously and grabbed her brush. It was a free for all after that, everyone picking up buckets, rollers, and paintbrushes and throwing paint back and forth. I dodged through the line of fire and grabbed Renesmee from behind in revenge; she turned in my arms and dabbed the tip of my nose with her wet finger. That was when Alice snapped the picture. We were all very, very orange that day, the memory of it made me laugh under my breath.
I'd been too distracted to hear Edward approach the cottage until the door opened. He crossed the room in a fraction of a second and leaned over the back of the couch to look over my shoulder.
"Is she sleeping?" He asked me. I smiled and nodded. He moved around the couch and sat next to me. I put the book down for a moment and slid my arms around his neck. Edward smiled at me. "What are you so happy about?" He asked me.
"I am orange today." I said simply. Edward was, at this point, very familiar with the song and could hear it playing in the other room.
"Are you?" He asked, kissing my cheek, "Loud and messy like finger paint on the wall." He sang to me quietly. I nodded. He looked up and we held each other's eyes for a few blissful moments. In Edward's arms I felt completely at ease. Finally, I slid away from him for a moment. I picked up the photo album and leaned into his arms, prepared to spend the night in memories. I sighed. "What's wrong?" Edward asked me immediately. I grinned sheepishly.
"Nothing. I'm just being a Mommy. Just being sentimental." I answered.
"Well then, 'Mommy'," He kissed the top of my head, "Don't be so sentimental."
"I couldn't if I tried." I whispered. He hugged me closer to him and picked up the next phsoto album. I almost couldn't wait for years to pass to have this moment again, looking back at pictures. But mostly I couldn't wait to see what colors would be memorable enough to remember centuries later. I was orange that day. Orange was probably my favorite color, my favorite kind of day. But days would present themselves, and all I could do was wait with Edward until they did.
I have as such proven that I CAN write in other POV's besides Jacob's! Score!
Hope you liked it.
Special thanks so Evelyn of the Copper Isles (or as I call her; Jillybeans) for proofreading for me!