"Bella? Bella?" My mother's panicked voice cut through my carefully placed indifference. I had to bring myself out of the trance-like, almost comatose state I was in. I had set up a shield around myself, hoping to block out everything that was about to happen. But it hadn't happened – my mind was slowly adjusting to the fact that my mom, not Stephen, had opened the kitchen door, and was now yelling for me in panic. To avoid frightening her further, I forced my face to carry a smile, although the weight of it nearly brought me to my knees.
"In here, Mom," I called. "In my room." I opened the door quietly, stepping into the hallway. It was confusing to me – the house was just the same: organized, quiet, my mother's voice chattering away, the sound of grocery bags crunching as she bustled through the kitchen I closed my eyes in relief. I was going to be okay. I was fine.
My eyes snapped open. Who said I was going to be okay? Who said that Stephen was going to just give up? Just because my mom was home...that didn't mean anything. What could Renée do? My breath hitched as the next realization came into my mind: Renée was in danger. If Stephen came while she was home, there was nothing to stop him from killing her. I slipped down the hallway and through the front door, spotting the package at the side of the porch. I grabbed the box and rushed it inside.
After kissing Renée on the cheek, asking her how her day was, - "spectacular" – and helping her put the groceries away, I retreated into my bedroom.
There was another note, another rose.
'It's all right. I can wait.'
Ж
Over dinner – spaghetti and spicy Italian sausage meat sauce – Renée was unusually quiet. When I asked her about it, she merely shook her head, unwilling to divulge. Seconds later, she bit her lip – what my mother always does when she's itching to speak.
I sighed. "What is it, Mom?"
She hesitated, then rushed forward. "Bella, darling, don't be mad, but you know the man I've been dating?" She waited for my assent.
I nodded. "Phil." He was a nice enough man, but was too young for her. I didn't see him much because they spent so much time out of the house – Renée thought this would help me to accept their relationship more quickly. She tried to blow it off, saying that it was just a phase, that he wasn't really that important to her, but I knew differently. Sometimes I thought I knew her better than she did herself. Renée was like me in one respect, at least: we were both horrible liars. She was infatuated with Phil, and as much as I hated to admit it, he with her.
I prodded her onwards.
"He asked me to marry him."
The world seemed to stop. I thought it unfair that I just narrowly escaped a dangerous, life-changing situation, only to be confronted with something like this. True, to most people, it may not seem like that much of an issue. It could be quickly recovered from, in comparison to what I thought I had been about to go through just hours ago. To me, though, it was a blow like no other during an already stress-filled period of my life.
My mind argued with me. It's not an added blow – it solves all my problems! Quickly, I accepted this. And then, my heart and mind ever pugnacious, I fought back. I cannot leave her.
But she's not in danger, my mind retorted. She and Phil will be in an entirely different state. Stephen can't blame her for this one – it's me he wants anyway. He can't destroy his only leverage. Especially when it won't get him anything.
Despite my heart's strongest arguments, attempting to protect my mother at all costs, my heart and mind were in agreement that it would be more dangerous to stay with my mother and soon-to-be stepfather. More dangerous for all of us - my family because of the immediate exposure brought on by my presence, and me because of my worry for Renee.
So I responded to her as best I could. "Wow, Mom!" I gasped, trying hard not to choke on the lettuce I had been stuffing into my mouth. "That's great!"
She smiled happily, her eyes sparkling with child-like wonder. "I know, isn't it? The way he asked me was so romantic, with the traditional down-on-one-knee proposal," and I smiled and nodded, made little comments here and there, and awwwwed in all the right places. My mother was like a child: very open with all of her thoughts and emotions, wild with excitement, and easily pleased. She was protective of me, of course, but I had always been the one to take care of her, rather than the usual opposite.
Phil, consequently, was more of an introvert than my mom could ever be. He was more of a careful thinker, so Renee was a bit of a mystery to him. What made me trust him was that he would just sit to the side as her mother talked about her day, with that same happiness in her eyes, watching her. From the intense look he had on each time this happened, he could watch her for his entire life and be happy. If a man can show that much interest in a woman, he was worth it. So my congratulations and my happiness for my mom was completely real.
I only had one regret: that I would leave. But at least this way, with them getting married, I would have left anyway. I did not feel quite as guilty as I know I would have if I left my mom all alone in the house. There was a sense of completion to this, of finality. But for both of us, and in many ways, that was also the start of something completely different. A chance to start over, for Renee. She was getting married again, and I knew she would try her darndest to make this marriage work. I had no doubts for her and Phil - they were beautiful together. She could raise her next child more responsibly; this I thought with a pang in my heart, because that's when I realized I might not always be her only little girl.
With an inward sigh, I let go of my only-child hold on her. It was only her prerogative to have more children with the man she was in love with, especially once her daughter had left to live with her ex-husband.
Charlie. That was a name I thought of a lot, but only for short periods of time. I didn't really know much about him, other than what I learned from the month I spent with him every year. He was nice enough, but he was as vocal about his thoughts and emotions as I was. Living with him wouldn't be bad, not at all, but Forks...living in a town that small after spending my life in Phoenix would be a challenge. Worse than that, it would be torture.
But it was an escape. And that's what I needed.
"I'm so glad that Phil understands about my hesitancy on wedding-planning, after already having done it once before. We're going to do a straightforward wedding, not too much time to plan. Next Sunday at the local parish. I'm thinking about Sarah's place for a dress. Same color as last time, but an all-new décor theme. What do you think?"
"Definitely white again, but I'm stumped on the décor. Probably the traditional flowers..."
"Yes, flowers give off a certain vibe, don't you think? Do you want to go with roses, or lilies? Or-" And I was sucked into marriage preparations.
Tomorrow, I promised myself. I'll tell her tomorrow. I'll have to leave as soon as they're married.
And as much as I hated having to leave my mom, my best friend, my everything, I knew I had to. To save both of us. And that's what was truly important she would be happy with Phil, and I would be...well, not happy in Forks, but alive, at least. And with my father.
I was determined that my plan would work that I could get away and he wouldn't bother coming after me. And like my mom says, once I set my mind to something, it's impossible to stop me.
Thus decided, I chatted with my mother about wedding plans, though inside I was planning to break her heart.
-
"Come back whenever you want to," Renee commanded, though her voice belonged to anyone but a person of authority. "I'll make sure you have fun, safe stay with us. Stay a week or two." My mother began to have a desperate look in her eyes. "In fact, stay for a few months or more." She was beseeching me, pleading. Don't go, her eyes asked. Don't go.
But it wasn't safe for either of us to be there. My plan took me the closest I could get to a happy ending – saving my mother and myself from an unknown fate brought upon us by an insane stalker.
Shouldn't that be the only happy ending anyone needs?
It was with this thought that I got on the plane headed for SeaTac, Washington.
My eyes closed, and I thought of my mother. How much I would miss her for the next...I didn't even know how long my self-inflicted exile would last. I already missed her – her constant smile, young and meaningful. Her warm hugs, her adventurous food. That was my mother – always taking risks. Always wanting the best for others. I guess I inherited that from her. But in this case, the best I could give wasn't the ideal situation. I couldn't give her any more than her life. I had to take her only daughter away to save her.
I wrenched my thoughts away and geared them toward my father. I was much more like Charlie than my mother – quiet, reserved, but always paying attention. Organized and unwilling to let things change. Obviously, Fate was denying my wishes. Forks would be an interesting place to live. I had counted the number of stoplights several years ago – I know there were less than ten. That's including the outskirts of the town, which are basically the entire town. There's one grocery store and a small inn. Those are okay things to live with, even though I'm from Phoenix. In a city that big, sometimes you wish for a release into a smaller corner of the world.
The things I really wasn't looking forward to were really green and really wet. Nothing was what it should be in Forks – that is, brown and dry. Instead, everything was green – the trees, the grass, the moss between sidewalk cracks. Probably due to heavy rainfall. So while the green of Forks might have been beautiful to me at one point, they lost their chance when rain was added to the small town.
I had never had many friends in the first place, so that wasn't something I was worried about. I was just worried...so worried...
Just before I drifted off to sleep, head resting against the frosted window pane of the airplane, the picture of soft black roses filled my vision.
As I slept, I dreamed.
