A/N:

Hi guys, I've reposted this chapter as I didn't realise I had to include the author's note in the uploaded document. Just wanted to say that I've written a few fics before but not for Twilight so I hope you enjoy. Please give me some feedback so I can see if there's some interest in this. If it gets a good reception or you want to read more then I'll post the next chapter soon! Thanks. x

PART 1 – The Whole Nine Yards

Chapter 1 – Breaking News

BPOV

I tapped my fingers against the surface of the table in the diner. I had been caught in this mantra for the past 40 minutes as I waited silently; but for the sound of my nails against the polished wood; spying the door with such intensity that I could feel the dryness of my eyes. That's ironic, I thought, considering the amount of tears I'd shed the past 24 hours. It was when I banged my knee on the underside of the table that I realised I'd been bobbing my right leg up and down violently. I took a sip of my orange juice as an attempt to distract from my nerves, but my hands were shaking. In fact, I was shaking.

Where is she?

I considered calling again, but after checking my wristwatch I discovered it'd only been seven minutes since she'd replied to my text message. It occurred to me then that maybe she hadn't replied. Maybe, even though I'd read the text twice, it didn't actually exist. Surely that is plausible. So I did the sensible thing and scrolled to my inbox and read the message again.

There's been an accident. Police diverting traffic, be there soon. Love u x

Soon. I hate that word. It's the word you use when you mean any possible value between 'now' and 'later'. And when the hell is 'later' anyway?

Please hurry.

That very second, she walked through the door, a server frowning disapprovingly as rain drops showered over the floor from her umbrella. She scanned the room for me but suddenly I wanted to crawl under the table and never leave.

This was not a good idea.

Then she smiled… and somehow, a little voice in my head said everything might just be ok.


"Wouldn't you like something warm sweetheart? Hot chocolate? Where are your gloves? Why-"

We settled back down at the table after a quick trip to the counter.

"Mom!"

She stopped talking. I took a breath.

"I'm good with orange juice. And my gloves are in my pocket. We're indoors."

"It's freezing in here," she retorted, exaggerating as usual.

"You're not in Kansas anymore," I quoted with a small grin, "Well… Florida anyway."

"Enough of the weather," she replied, even though she'd been the one to bring it up, "There's far more important things to discuss."

At that the grin faded completely. I couldn't argue with that. Those important things were the very reason we'd arranged this meeting. Mom wanted me to fly to Florida and stay with her for a while. We'd argued for almost half an hour yesterday morning, me insisting that I didn't want to run away, then her insisting she'd be on the first flight out the next day. I was lifted from my thoughts when she spoke again.

"Bella," she sighed, in that way that makes your heart ache because you've just disappointed the very person you want to be proud of you. "How could you let this happen?" Her eyes were kind, her hands soft and warm as they covered mine, but I still felt cold.

"It was an accident," I replied meekly. "We used… a condom." I closed my eyes. "I guess I'm in the unlucky 1%."

She lifted my chin and I opened my eyes.

"You're not unlucky, it's just shitty timing."

I was surprised to see the hint of a smile on her lips as she cussed.

"It's not just that though," I shook my head, "He's not who I imagined would father my children. We barely know each other." At this I bit my lip, realising the picture I'd just painted of myself in front of my mother. "I mean, we've been dating a coupla months," I added quickly, "But we just…" I struggled to finish my thought.

"Aren't made for each other," she finished for me. I rolled my eyes at that. Typical Mom. Soul mates and all that crap.

"We're not compatible," I smiled, knowing it was her turn to roll her eyes at my terse reasoning.

"Ok," she nodded, "So have you told him yet?"

I thought back to the disaster which was that conversation and winced. He'd not reacted favourably.

"He said he'd do what he could, but to not expect his family's support. He's gonna tell his parents this weekend, or by next weekend at the latest. Definitely before he goes back to Seattle."

She was quiet for a few moments.

"I'm not gonna lie to you hunny, but it doesn't sound too good," she gripped my hands a little firmer, "but we'll get through this without him if we have to."

"I don't need to," I shook my head, "He's gonna commit. He will."

"Do you want him to?" she raised her eyebrow at me.

"What?"

"Picture the scene. You decide you're gonna do this, and he's onboard. He gets down on one knee and asks you to spend the rest of your life with him as you try to make this work, even though you're incompatible and you don't know each other. Maybe even have more kids with him. What will you say?"

I didn't reply straight away.

"We don't need to get married. He just needs to be in his child's life. That's good enough for me."

She nodded. "Ok, then. So that's the goal."

"Yeah," I agreed, though I didn't like the undercurrent in her tone, almost as if I was reaching for the stars.

"What time's the appointment?" she asked then. I checked my watch.

"About an hour."

"Let's finish up with these and we'll get moving. I'll drive."

Remembering she'd taken a taxi here, I frowned. "You want to drive my truck?"

"You shouldn't have to manoeuvre that beast around in your condition."

"First, it's not a beast. It's my baby." I reddened at that comment as it slipped out. Mom pretended not to pick up on it. "And second," I recovered, "I'm barely 5 weeks gone; I think it's a little early to have to give up driving. I have a job you know."

"I'm not arguing," she replied.


The trip to my doctor was close to mortifying. I'd wanted to see one in Seattle but Mom insisted on coming with me and since school was out where I teach, I'd already planned to come home to Forks to see Charlie.

Dr Platt had given me my very first 'I'm so brave!' sticker over 20 years ago. Now, at age 26, I felt I deserved it more than ever. I didn't get a sticker. What I did get was a flash of shock in her eyes as I announced my news, followed by a mountain of leaflets that I must have to work out how to hide from Charlie. Oh, and quite a bit of prodding.

She finally told me pretty much what I already knew. That I was pregnant. About five weeks so. And that I'm a naughty unmarried minx. Ok, so the last bit she just said with her eyes. But it was unmistakeable.

Mom, on the other hand, was great. Without her I don't think I would've made it through the door, and for a fraction of a second I entertained the thought of sandy beaches and palm trees. But I couldn't leave Seattle. I'd made a home. Friends. And I had my students. I'd only been teaching at the university a few months, but for once in my life I felt I belonged. And that's why 'bad timing' doesn't even come close to describing my current situation.

"Stop worrying," Mom interrupted as she turned onto our road. The police cruiser was already parked outside the house.

"Dad's home?"

She hit the kerb hard as she struggled to pull up in the 'beast'.

"I called him earlier. Said I was in town and we needed to talk. He took off work early."

"Oh my god," I cringed and sank into my seat.

"Toughen up sweetie," she slung open her door, "Welcome to the real world."


Mom left the following morning. She couldn't stay, but God knows I wished she could. I'd been tip-toeing around Charlie ever since I'd sat at our kitchen table and told him I was pregnant. His cheeks flamed like he'd instantaneously been struck with a severe fever, and Mom seemed to be the only reliever of his symptoms. I'd sat there, trying to block out the raised voices as I contemplated just how much I'd screwed up.

"Have you considered your other options?" he'd shot at me with narrowed eyes.

"Charlie!" My mom had scolded him.

"What? You always complained how old fashioned I am, well now's your chance to be modern. The hell with morals, how about taking the quick fix like all the other kids?"

At that the tears had begun to pour. Charlie instantly stepped back and softened his stance. Mom looked on in shock.

"I'm sorry Bells," he said abashedly. "I'm just upset."

"And you think I'm not?" I retorted. "I have considered my options Dad, and besides turning back the clock, the only choice I could make within myself is to accept this and do my best." I rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. "And I don't want to fight with you."

He'd crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the countertop. He didn't make eye contact. "I won't fight."

The conversation was calmer thereon, and Charlie had raised questions about my rights with my employer, my finances, where I'd be staying at different stages of the pregnancy and who was close by should I need help, and many other things that I'd barely considered since I'd taken the home pregnancy test the morning I was to return home. Typical of my dad, they were all centred on practicality and logic, and I was thankful for it. I needed him. I needed them both. And I was sure they'd be there, although I'd taken the decision to return to Seattle after the Easter holiday. Mom would visit when she could, and would try to get the last few weeks of the pregnancy off work to stay with me fulltime. I'd told her that wasn't necessary, but Charlie had been on her side. He couldn't get extra time off from the police that time of year, but would be present as much as he could, and always at the end of the phone should I need anything. I knew what that meant. His savings. I was determined I would manage. Dad took solace in the news that I was due on December 20th. The chances of me being under his ardent supervision for the holiday was very likely, and this pleased him greatly. I silently prayed that I wouldn't give birth on Christmas Day. I could already see the implications of that being a potentially single mother, and the casual ridicule with which I might be attributed the name the Virgin Bella, or something else equally hilarious.

For the days that followed, Charlie and I spoke only when it seemed necessary or polite. In a way I was glad, but at the same time I resented the distance. I knew that Charlie struggled to communicate his feelings openly so I tried not to take it to heart. Most the time I sat in my childhood bedroom and worked on my lesson plans for after the holiday. It kept me busy, though eventually I realised I was avoiding the stack of leaflets on my desk. I walked over and tossed a few out so see which I wanted to look at first, when I received the third text message that night.

Why won't you answer? Is everything ok? You always answer :( xx

I knew I was avoiding the inevitable, so I swallowed my nerves and dialled.

"Bella!" she shrieked down the line, "I've been trying to get hold of you all day!"

"Chill Alice, I was just sorting out school stuff."

"What is it?" she demanded.

And just like that, she stunned me yet again with her incredible powers of perception.

"You might wanna sit down."

A/N: Please tell me your initial thoughts. x