Disclaimer: Recognizable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Recognizable plot belongs to Fox, and whoever it was that wrote the screenplay for The Waitress.

Bella's Baby will not be named Renessme. I'm sure we all agree…it's a horrible name. I think SMeyer was desperate or something. I haven't come up with a name yet, but I'm sure you all can help me.

Anyway, here's the background information:

Renée's and Charlie's roles are switched in this fanfiction, thus I'm changing up the names. Renée's name is now Charlie, though her full name is Charlotte. Charlie's name is Ren. He is not in this fanfiction at all. Here's a brief background story of him, just for fun:

Ren, after leaving his wife, lost all of his life savings in a shady pyramid scheme. His girlfriend promptly left him for a lawyer named Jo-Anne. Shortly after, he found his faith in God and joined a convent to begin his training to become a nun. Due to the fact that all nuns are women, he realized he must pose as one himself. He goes by Renée, now.

Bella never met her father once. She refers to him as the Sperm Donor. Her mother was the responsible one. Her father was the flighty one and ran off with her mother's best friend before Bella was born. He didn't realize Charlie was pregnant, but Charlie realized that she'd rather he be happy doing his own thing and being ignorant, rather than make him hate her by forcing him to come back because of their daughter. She also knew she didn't want to be trapped in an unhappy relationship with a man that didn't love her anymore.

Charlie struggled to make ends meet for her, and her daughter. She worked hard enough to make enough money for them to live with all of the things you need to grow up, and she made enough to send Bella to college. She loved her daughter more than she loved herself. They discovered her Breast Cancer when it was already too far past any help. She died when Bella was seventeen.

Bella, who needed someone to depend on, shortly after married the boy she thought she loved while she was in High School. However, when she married him, all of her money and possessions became his as well by law. He took control of the situation, forcing her to not go to college because he couldn't go as well. Bella lived the next several years being mentally abused by Mike, who treats her like an object that is supposed to take care of him before she does anything else. Like a pet rabbit, if rabbits could cook and talk, and if you fucked your pet rabbit whenever you felt the urge to do so.

I stared at the pink line. It was wrong. It had to be.

There was no way this was happening, because it couldn't happen. I couldn't be pregnant. If I was pregnant, then everything I'd planned, everything I'd worked so hard to prepare would be ruined. I wasn't pregnant. There was just no way.

"One line or two lines? One line or two lines!" Rosalie asked, panicked for me. Since I seemed too strangely calm as I watched the destruction of my life crash around me.

"Two lines! The control line, and the other line—the bad line—the 'yes' line!"

"Let me see."

I handed the test to her and she examined it, mumbled her condolences. But I wasn't there. I was gone.

I Don't Want Mike's Baby pie. With keish, and egg…with a ham center…

"I Don't Want Mike's Baby pie." I whispered, and the girls immediately knew I was making the recipe for the blue plate special tomorrow. "A keish base, with grated cheese sprinkled over it, and with smoked ham chunks in the center drowned in egg. Perfect for breakfast."

"Sounds great, Bella. But I don't think we can put that name on the menu board."

"We'll just call it Bad Baby pie for short."

Alice nodded, and she was silent for a few seconds, before wrapping her arms around me.

"Bella….what are you going to do?"

I was silent.

"Tomorrow, I will go see Doctor Cullen, and make sure that this baby really exists. And if it does…"

What would I do with this baby? Could I kill an innocent baby? It was my fault. I couldn't punish this baby for my fault. It's my fault I married Mike. It's my fault he changed after I married him. It's my fault I let my guard down so he get could me drunk. It's my fault I let him sleep with me.

I couldn't take my fault out on this baby.

I sighed. This changed everything.

Will I ever be able to escape Mike?

I didn't realize I'd spoken it out loud, until Alice hugged me tighter, murmuring, "Of course you will, Bella. Of course you will."

I listened to the rain as it beat down on the overhang of the diner's porch. Alice and Rosalie were silent. It felt like they were mourning.

"When are you telling Mike?"

"Never. He will never know about this Baby. I'm going to get the hell out of here as quickly as I can, and hopefully I won't ever have to tell him that—"

Beeeep. Beeeep. Beeep. Beeep.

Mike. I felt a swell of dread as his car pulled up into the small parking lot.

"Get in," he called, and I swiftly complied.

It was blissfully silent for a minute, but I knew it wouldn't last. Mike didn't like silence. I wasn't disappointed.

"You don't look happy to see me. Ain't you happy to see me?"

"Yes, of course I'm happy to see you," I lied. "I brought you a slice of pie. Kick in the Pants pie." I sure wish I could kick you in the pants. Maybe take away your ability to have children. You aren't fit to be a father.

Though it's not like I'm a very fit to be a mother myself.

"You didn't give me a kiss."

He waited for a second, obviously expecting me to lean over and kiss him, but I hoped I wouldn't have to.

"Well? Give me a kiss."

I complied swiftly, leaning forward to press my lips to his for a brief second, only to pull away fractions later.

"So where's the money you made today?"

I pulled it out of my pocket, handing it to him.

"Not much, huh?"

"Slow day today."

Lie.

"Hm. Well if you have one more of them I don't think it'll be worth you working there anymore. I'd rather have you at home so you could make me pies all day long." He stopped to chuckle softly, as if he made a cute little joke.

I knew he was completely serious.

Things were silent for a few more minutes, before he started up again.

"You didn't ask me how my day went," he said.

"How was your day."

"Ask me like you mean it."

I fought to pull my lips into a grin, before turning to him and murmuring, "How was your day, Mike?"

He shrugged. "Eh, you know."

He was silent for a moment, and I thought I was going to roll my eyes before be continued. "Mr. Stanley was on my ass about Mortgages again. But I don't make bank policy. I told him that, he just doesn't listen to me—"

I Hate My Husband pie. You take bitter chocolate, and don't sweeten it. Make a pudding out of it, and then drown it in caramel.

"—Bella!"

"I—What?"

"You ain't listening to me!"

"Yes I am."

"No you're not. What'd I say?"

"You were bitching about Mr. Stanley."

"What were my exact words? And I don't bitch. It's beneath me."

"Well, I can't repeat your words verbatim, exactly—"

"You don't listen to me! It hurts my feelings! Now please just say you're sorry so I can let you out of the car so you can go make my dinner." I hadn't realized we'd been parked in front of the house. I must have really lost myself in that pie recipe.

I smiled, grinding my teeth behind my lips before responding, "I'm sorry, Mike, for not being able to repeat your words verbatim. That's something I should be able to do."

"…whenever I need it…" he prompted.

"Whenever you need it." I said, and I tried to make myself sound as sincere as possible. Maybe if I was a better wife I wouldn't have to lie to him all of the time.

He smiled, easily pleased, before moving his hand to rest on my thigh. "Well, alright then."

He moved to get out of the car, letting the lock pop out of its place on my side, and I opened the door to climb out as well.

I made my way silently to the kitchen. It didn't matter what he said to me, though, to make me feel stupid or low or inhuman. There was always my escape.

Baking was my true passion. I suppose if you looked at it from someone else's shoes, I looked like a very feminine woman. My husband took care of everything. To the outside eyes, it would seem as if I slept, breathed and lived to cook and feed my husband. I was just the weak woman my husband liked to fuck around with.

And most of the time that was how I felt, too. I tried to tell myself not to feel like that. That keeping that attitude would not make it any easier to escape. I had to remind myself that I was strong. Like my mother.

My mother.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts from my mind as I donned the cooking apron, reaching for my cooking supplies as I went to make dinner. What did Mike want? I'd known Mike for enough years to guess what he wanted for dinner by how he acted. And tonight, especially, I would have to please him.

Spaghetti pie. You boil pasta and drown it with a rich marinara sauce in a flakey garlic bread crust, with thick juicy meatballs mixed in. Bake it all together.

I set to work, boiling the pasta in one pot, and taking out another one for the marinara, before immediately setting to work to cut the tomatoes, taking extra care not to hurt myself.

In no time the whole mouse smelled like an Italian restaurant, and I lowered the heat on the marinara to let it cook slowly while I set to work on the crust.

I took extra care to make sure that just the right amount of garlic was mixed in, kneading it, and rolling it out, before pressing it into the pan.

I could sense the spaghetti was almost at the right point where it was just the right amount of undercooked, so I made quick work of straining it, and tossing it into the crust, and then taking the marinara and pouring it over it, before tossing the meat balls in.

Perfect. I was just finishing pressing the crust along the top as I heard the oven beep.

I pulled down the door, placing the pie inside before shutting it.

This was the easy part. Mike was probably in the other room watching television. Now was the time I needed to really think. If I added the money I didn't give to Mike to the other money I'd hidden, I had about twelve hundred dollars. Not much, but enough to get me somewhere. If I could just ask Mike for some money, maybe if I pleased him enough to get a few hundred…tell him it's for a baking contest…

I got a glass, reaching for the sink to fill it up, desperate to quench my sudden thirst.

I need to set the table. I grabbed the plates, forks and knives from the cabinet and the drawers, before walking slowly to the living room to set it all up. Mike sat at the head of the table. I sat to his left.

He bought this table a few months after we'd gotten married and he moved into my mother's—newly mine—house. He didn't like the square sided table we already had, so he used some of my college fund money to buy a bigger, longer one, one with a head to sit at. I tried asking him why he did that, if we never had any guests over, but he just brushed my question away. It hurt a little bit, watching him buy that table with my mother's money, knowing I had no way to stop him.

"I smell dinner!" Mike called from the living room, and sure enough I could smell the pie. Almost done. I shook my thoughts away again, knowing it didn't do me any good to be so distracted tonight.

I took the pie from the oven, placing it on a pot holder on the table in front of his seat. Sensing it was time to eat, Mike sauntered in from the living room, sitting in his seat and smiling largely.

"Spaghetti pie?" He asked. I nodded.

"Bella, you sure know how to please me. Tell me you love me."

"I love you, Mikey." I said, and I tried my best to at least make it sound real.

He smiled. "It's been a while since you first called me Mikey. I like it."

Sometimes when he smiled, I could almost recall the reason why I first fell in love with him. He was so sweet at first. Always catering to me. Everything I wanted, he tried his hardest to make it happen. And when he smiled, he was so handsome that it made my heart flutter. But now I knew what was really behind that smile. Now it just made my stomach clench.

"Mmm…" I purred. "You look so handsome tonight, Mikey."

"Thank you, honey. And you pretty tonight, too. Maybe a bit tired, is all."

I could hear the inflection in his voice. Get more sleep at night, it said.

"Thanks, Mikey." I smiled. I hoped it looked real. "So…I was thinking that I want to borrow some money from you."

Mike froze, looking up at me as if I'd grown a second head before responding, "And my answer to that, of course, is no."

"There's a big pie bake-off in Jonesville in a few months, and I'd really like to go."

"And my answer to that, of course, is no."

His answer didn't surprise me. But that knowledge didn't stop the wave of claustrophobia I'd felt flash over me.

"The prize money is pretty good—"

The sound of Mike tossing his fork down onto his plate made me jump, cutting off my words. "Why do you want money so badly? I give you everything you need, don't I?"

"Absolutely." Lie.

"You want for nothing, don't you?"

"I want for nothing, Mike."

"Your pies ain't bad, but what's so important about that when you've got me to take care of?"

"That's a good point, Mike." I was silent after that, not wanting to push the envelope any more.

Mike chuckled, before picking his fork up again, and using it to take another bite of his pie.

The sinking feeling of claustrophobia pressed down on me a little bit more, and I tried my hardest to shake the thought that I would never escape this hell.

The whole house was silent as I slipped out of bed, walking into the living room. I'd already decided that I would put it underneath the couch cushion this time. After I was sure that it was safely tucked away, I quietly creeped back into the bedroom, slipping myself back into his arms. Reflexively I felt them tighten around me. I might have found it endearing a few years ago, if it wasn't for the fact that he whispered Mine. It sounded so sinister. My mind, almost as if on command began to shut down, wanting to obey Mike, if it meant getting away from him all that much sooner.

I never much cared for small cities.

Sometimes Forks felt like my own personal hell. I tried to tell myself that this was what Tanya wanted. Whatever Tanya wanted, it should make me happy as well. And Tanya wanted to settle down in a tiny city.

I always wondered how she could want to move to a small city, if it didn't have something to do with having a family.

I reminded myself that it didn't matter. Tanya didn't want kids. That was fine with me.

When I was younger, I used to imagine that I would marry some beautiful intelligent brunette, and we would have several children. This fantasy was probably fueled by the urge to have as much sex as possible as a teenager, and the fact that I was an only child and had always wanted brothers and sisters.

As I grew older, I realized that the one thing I'd really ever wanted was a girl. A baby girl.

A beautiful baby girl. And that she would grow up to have brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, just like her mother.

But instead, I had Tanya. And Tanya was wonderful. I realized as I grew older that love wasn't really something that just happened. There was no choir of angels when you meet the person that's right for you. You have to work for it. You have to work for your love.

Did I love Tanya?

I still wasn't sure. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. But I was engaged to her either way.

And either way, I was a doctor living in the oh-so-small town of Forks, Washington.

And I didn't really have anything against small towns. I just preferred living in big ones. Like the one I grew up in. Forks was truly tiny, though. The population was little over a few thousand, and there weren't really any places to go for recreation. There was a single diner in down, Jake's Pie Diner, but other than that if you wanted to go out to eat, or go somewhere fun, you had to leave town.

I wondered how Tanya preferred this over Chicago, but that was her choice. She happened to have a dream. And it happened to be the wrong half of the dream that happened to be opposite of my own.

But that didn't matter. I was happy with her. She loved me, and I'm sure if I gave it time, I would love her too.

I was surprised when Carlisle just quit so suddenly. I thought it might have had something to do with Esme, the abused pregnant woman he'd been treating. From what I understood her husband was just released from prison, and though he'd never told me about it, I had a feeling they were seeing each other. I figured he wanted to take care of her and protect her in case something happened.

Other than that, the morning was a pretty boring one. I hadn't expected anything interesting to happen in such a small city.

"Here you go honey, just take off your clothes and put on this robe and the doctor will be in to see you in a minute."

I spent a few minutes checking over her chart, before finally entering the examination room.

I don't believe anything could have prepared me for Bella Swan.

It was almost as if she'd walked right out my fantasies. For a moment I thought I heard singing, but I realized with almost sick humor that it the clinic radio playing an old classical piece titled "Choir of Angels" for atmosphere in the background.

She had deep brown eyes and the most beautiful chocolate brown hair I'd ever seen. It looked so soft. My fingertips tingled in the anticipation of running my hands through it. Greedily, my eyes took in every detail of her face. They got stuck on her lips.

I was stunned for several long seconds, before I finally managed to pull my eyes away from to her to train them on her chart.

"Bella Swan?" I struggled to keep my voice steady.

"Are you a new nurse?"

At the sound of her voice my head had to snap up again. It was smooth, and soft and…the single most erotic thing I'd ever heard in my entire life. With horror, I could feel myself becoming aroused. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn't I control myself?

I looked up again, before finally realizing she'd been holding a pie.

"No, I'm your doctor…Is that pie for me?" I asked, still in shock. I shifted uncomfortably, balling my hand into a fist and putting it in my pocket. I hoped dearly that she wouldn't notice my sudden change in composure.

"No, you are not my doctor. My Doctor is Carlisle. This pie is for him, it's Cherry pie, his favorite."

I swallowed loudly, realizing with more sick humor that Cherry happened to be my favorite.

"He's, uh, recently retired…he—he just quit this morning. It was sudden. We didn't have time to call anyone."

"But Dr. Cullen delivered me! He's been my doctor for my entire life! I really liked and trusted him!"

"Well…maybe with time you could come to really like and trust me?"

The words slipped out before I could control them, and I hoped that she thought I meant them in the same way she did.

"I've never even seen you before."

"Yes, erm, I just moved here. Long story short, this is still Dr. Cullen's practice, I'm the junior doctor on staff…I just moved here from Chicago…Dr. Cullen had a class over the summer and I—sorry, I'm getting off topic."

I mentally berated myself. There was just something about her that made me want to tell her everything about myself.

"Anyway, it's nice to meet you," I said, taking my hand out of my pocket to shake her hand.

"What's your name again?"

"Edward. Edward Masen."

"Bella. Bella Newton."

"It says here that your last name is Swan."

"Well, yes. My maiden name is Swan. I got married years ago. That file is probably as old as I am."

My eyes darted to her hands, and that was when I noticed her wedding ring. I felt a wave of disappointment crash over me, and I struggled to fight it off. Of course she was married. She had to be the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen before in my life. Her wedding ring was simple. It looked plain, and inexpensive. If she was my wife I certainly wouldn't have settled for something so plain. The ring I would have gotten her would have to be every bit as beautiful as she was.

"I see," I said. I fought to keep my voice even.

"Well, what seems to be the problem?"

"I seem to be pregnant."

This day just kept getting better.

"Good!" I said, and I tried to sound happy for her. "Good for you! Congratulations!"

"Thanks, but I don't want this baby."

Again, I froze as she threw me for yet another loop. Everything she said seemed to surprise me in one way or another. "Oh…well, we, uh don't perform—"

"No. I'm keeping it, I'm just saying that I'm not as happy about it as everyone else might be. If you could please be sensitive to that, I would really appreciate it."

"Of course. Well, then. We need to do a blood test to make sure you're really pregnant, and to check for diseases, hormone levels and stuff like that."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Alright. Well, the nurse will be right in so don't go anywhere," I said, as I turned around to leave to the door.

"Nowhere to go," she murmured, but it was so quiet I wasn't sure If I'd just imagined it or not.

I was quietly panicking in my office, waiting for Bella to enter. Soon I heard a soft knock on the door, and in she walked. Beautiful and quiet.

"Hi, Bella. Have a seat."

I hadn't really realized how messy my office was until she was in it. I felt embarrassed. Was she a neat person? Would she think I was a slob?

"The seat is, um, covered with files, but you can just shove those onto the floor."

She hesitated. I sighed. She probably was a neat person. She probably thought I was some kind of pig.

"Go ahead. Don't worry." I tried to smile to reassure her.

She carefully pushed the folders onto the floor, making sure that they wouldn't open and dump their contents everywhere. She seemed so cautious of everything. So cautious of me.

"Okay, I'm going to give you this pie now, Dr. Masen."

"Oh…thank you." I must have seemed too eager when I reached forward to take the pie from her, because she flinched back. The action was so minute that I almost didn't notice it, but I felt foolish because of it. Why can't I just be calm and collected around her?

I took the pie from her hands, and when her skin brushed mine I felt the static charge shock me. My whole body shivered because of it, and I found myself becoming ever more aroused.

I sat down in my chair, in the hopes of hiding it. I cleared my throat, but somehow my voice was still a few bit higher than normal. I felt mortified.

"Well….un-congratulations, you're definitely having a baby."

"Un-thank you."

"So for the next eight months, if you need me, I'm right here. Please don't hesitate to call…" for anything. Any reason at all. "We'll be doing some tests, all of which I'll warn you about beforehand. And I'm going to give you a prescription for pre-natal vitamins. Do you have any questions for me?"

"What kind of questions?"

I groaned softly. Why did her voice have to be so…?

"I-I don't know," I stuttered. "Diet do's and don'ts, exercise…sex…."

"I don't really do much of either of those. So no. No questions."

"Any diet concerns?"

"Not really. I just eat healthy, right?"

"Eat healthy. Avoid certain fish, and cheeses. Ask Rebecca on your way out and she'll give you a sheet of general rules of pregnancies. Here's your prescription for the pre-natal vitamins."

I fumbled with it, handing it over and it fell out of hands twice before I actually managed to get it into hers. If she didn't notice how nervous I was, she'd have to have been blind.

"It was nice meeting you, Bella. I want to see you again in about three weeks." Or tonight. Perhaps over dinner and—

I watched as Bella nodded slowly, taking in all of the information, before mumbling her goodbye and leaving the way she came in.

I was lost for the whole day. All I could think about was how she probably thought I was crazy. And how she probably thought I was some kind of nervous freak.

And how I was engaged to Tanya. And how Bella was married. To some lucky bastard named Newton.

I hadn't really witnessed much jealousy before in my life. It surprised me when I recognized it. I'd never been more envious of a man before in my entire life. Whoever this Newton man was, he didn't deserve Bella.

Then again, I probably didn't deserve her on my best day.

That was probably the longest author's note you'll ever read from me. If you skipped over it, please go back and read it. It's all critical background information.

Disregarding the author's note, this chapter is 4,088 words long.

I don't expect this fanfiction to be a very long one. Maybe a few chapters.