"Do you have a name in mind for Maine?" I asked Edward as we left the dining room.

"I was thinking of going back to Masen. Esme and I were talking about being brother and sister again. Nothing has been decided beyond that."

"So I would be Mrs. Masen? Or do I pretend to be your younger sister?"

"Yes, you would be Mrs. Masen." He brushed my hair gently away from my face. "I think I need to sharpen my acting skills before I can convincingly play your brother."

"Your acting skills are fine," Rosalie commented as she walked by carrying a cherrywood armoire. "But Bella should be majoring in drama instead of studying sciences. She's still an awful liar."

"I'm working on it," I sighed.

Edward and I were heading upstairs to sort through the belongings in his former bedroom, when he was distracted by Carlisle, on the phone with the piano movers. Not that we really needed a piano mover, but Jasper thought carrying a grand piano in and out of a house by ourselves might be conspicuous. Edward urged me to go on upstairs without him, and hurried back to oversee the matter and make sure his favourite material possession was being treated with due care.

Alice was already in the room, folding my out of season clothes into an enormous trunk with blinding speed. She'd already cleared out the closet in my little cottage out back; my entire wardrobe was in the trunk. "I left you outfits for tomorrow and the next day, back in the cottage," she told me. "The red cotton dress is for tomorrow."

"Thanks. Alice, why don't you let me do that?"

"You know I don't trust you around clothing! Besides, I had new items to add."

"More new items?"

"Not many. I'm waiting until we get to Hanover to shop for your student wardrobe. But I did throw in a few new pieces of lingerie." She smiled sweetly.

I said nothing. Alice certainly had an uncanny knack for choosing unmentionables for me that would appeal to Edward. Not that he needed any encouragement in that department, but Alice's selections had sometimes made him resort to strong language. The garments rarely survived their first wearing, which was just fine with me. They died in a good cause.

But I wasn't going to tell Alice that, at least not right now, when the entire family could hear every word.

One of the adjustments I had to make in becoming a full-fledged Cullen was revising my concept of privacy. As a human, a private conversation was simple: you went into another room and closed the door, or even moved a few yards away from potential eavesdroppers, and your conversation was private. Such rules did not apply in a house full of vampires, who could practically hear a pin drop from anywhere in the house or yard. This changed the definition of private to include several sub-categories.

At one end of the spectrum was the genuinely private. Edward's and my honeymoon cottage, for example, was truly private because it was placed out of hearing range of the main house. This was a relief to me. We could engage in our usual honeymoon activities without worrying about being heard, and without either of us having to keep our voices down. Not to mention being able to talk openly, which also happened from time to time. Realizing we would eventually move back into the family home, we had practiced making love quietly, as I assumed the other three Cullen couples did. With vampire aptitude, it was amazingly easy to remain completely silent throughout, apart from whispers to each other that were so quiet they would not be heard by anyone else, regardless of hearing ability. This was reassuring for future purposes.

Any Cullen who wanted a truly private conversation had to place himself at a significant distance from the others.

Then there was privacy by consensus. It was a kind of unspoken agreement within the family: when something took place that was too intimate for the group at large to hear or observe, they simply...wouldn't hear it or observe it. They would look away, talk of other matters, focus on something else. This arrangement was almost essential for such a large group of adults (and one child) to live comfortably in close proximity.

Most of the time, though, it was understood that all conversations in that house were public domain. We had few secrets.

I did kind of enjoy the multi-level communication that went on in the house at times. With my vast new mind, it was child's play to hold a conversation on the third floor, while listening to another discussion taking place on the second floor and two more on the first, keeping track of all of them at once, and sometimes participating in two or more at a time. To think I'd once had trouble reading while the television was on.

As I spoke to Alice in the third floor bedroom, I could hear Edward discussing piano moving in the living room, Esme talking to Jacob as she gave Nessie crackers and juice in the kitchen, and Rosalie speaking brusquely into her cell phone as she swiftly sorted and packed items in her second floor bedroom.

"Well, if I'm not allowed to pack my own clothes, I'll pack Edward's," I said, starting to pull items from dresser drawers and add them to the trunk at blinding speed. I heard Nessie, finished with her snack, giggling as Uncle Emmett sang to her. It was a kind of lullaby from his human days.

What do we do with the baby-o? Emmett sang.
Every time the baby cry,
Stick my finger in the baby's eye!

I found the lyrics a little hostile, but they made Nessie laugh.

Every time the baby grin,
Feed my baby from a bottle of gin.
That's what we do with the baby-o!

More laughter. I found myself smiling as I worked.

"I'm glad to see you're not arguing about the upcoming shopping trip," Alice said gleefully.

"Is there any point?"

She grinned at me. "None at all."

"I still don't get it, to tell the truth. You enjoy dressing me up more than you like dressing up yourself."

"It's more fun, because I can actually put you in the best fashion has to offer. My clothes have to be chosen from a very narrow range, or else made at home. Designers don't typically make clothes for my body type, in case you haven't noticed. I have to live vicariously through you."

"Oh!" I hadn't considered that aspect of it. Alice was so tiny and thin, children's wear would probably fit her best.

"I just wish my mystery creator had waited another year or so to change me. I might have grown a couple of inches. Not to mention maybe developed a proper bust." She sighed, holding up one of my camisoles wistfully before packing it in the trunk.

"You don't hear any complaints from me." Jasper's voice drifted up from the ground floor.

"True! And that's the main thing." She winked at me. "But it would be nice to be able to fill out a sweater for once."

"Aw, Alice - don't feel bad. You're so beautiful, and you know it's not only Jasper who thinks so. You look like queen of the fairies! Well," I amended, "ruthless dictator of the fairies, anyway."

Laughter could be heard from various points around the house.

"Thanks, Bella!" Alice laughed.

"You can thank me by cancelling the clothes shopping." She put her hands on her hips, giving me an exasperated look. "Honestly, Alice, I'm going to be a student. Most of them go to class in ripped jeans and tee shirts. If I'm supposed to blend in, shouldn't I be doing the same?"

"She's got you there, Alice," Emmett's laughing voice called out.

"But you're supposed to look better than the average student!" Alice protested.

Before I could respond, Jasper's voice rose through the floorboards. "Alice has a point, Bella."

"What?" I was surprised and annoyed. He'd always stayed out of our apparel wars until now.

"When you go to university, or anywhere out in public, you're not appearing as yourself, not any more. You're appearing as your cover story. It's like playing a role, and you have to wear the right costume for the part. Here in Forks, it made sense that you continued to dress the way Bella Swan always had, but that's a temporary situation. Wearing the clothes that you, the real Bella, would choose is not necessarily appropriate to your cover story."

"Well...yes, but why does my 'character' have to be a fashion plate? Why couldn't she be a slob?"

"In theory, she could; but it's usually better for all of us to look just a little more elite and polished than most, even a bit arrogant. It keeps people at a distance." I remembered the impression the Cullen 'kids' had made on most of the Forks High School students. "You don't want clothes that make you look like one of the gang, because you're not, and can't be. It may seem pretentious, but it's another thing that helps us live closely with humans."

One more thing I liked about Jasper: he always told me the truth, without sugar-coating it. He was right. I wasn't going to make friends at school; I was going to stay aloof. My friends, from now on, could come only from a few select sources. And from now on, I was Bella only with my family; everywhere else I was my alter ego. "That makes sense. Thanks, Jasper."

Alice stared at me. "Well, that was easy! So you're not going to give me trouble about your wardrobe from now on?"

"Not so fast, Alice." I heard Emmett snicker, and Nessie ask him what was funny.

"What now?"

"How about a compromise." She frowned at me. "Your first ever!" I could hear Edward laugh at that.

"What kind of compromise?"

"I'll give you free rein choosing my clothes, at least clothes I wear in public. Provided," I said, holding up a warning finger as she started to get excited, "that you stay within certain boundaries. Then you can dress me up to your heart's content, and I'll be 'in character' without feeling like a...a superhero in an adult comic book." There was snickering in the distance.

She looked at me suspiciously. "What boundaries?"

"Number one: I have to be reasonably covered up. Nothing low cut, skin tight, very short, or transparent." We'd gone through a lot of arguments on that score.

She sighed. "Honestly! You're a bigger prude than Edward!"

"Excuse me?" Edward said from downstairs.

"Take that back!" Emmett called out. "Nobody's a bigger prude than Edward!"

"Alice," Esme said quietly, "Bella's just modest. She can still be stylish within those limits, can't she?"

"Oh, I suppose so," Alice conceded. "But it's a waste of a good figure. What else?"

"Nothing too showy."

"Showy? When do I ever dress you showy?" she said indignantly.

"You know what I mean. Avoid the glitter, drama, really avant-garde styles. Simple clothes, okay?"

"Think of the Duchess of Cambridge," Rosalie suggested from one floor down. "Or the French president's wife."

"Coco Chanel," Esme suggested, her voice now seeming to come from the front yard. "Audrey Hepburn. Classics."

"Chic but understated," Rose agreed.

Alice was looking into space, mentally designing my personal fall line. "Maybe. Yes, I could work with that." She looked back at me. "Any more restrictions?"

"Just one, but it's non-negotiable. No high heels."

"Bella! That's just..."

"Absolutely non-negotiable," I said firmly.

"What do you have against high heels?"

"First of all, they're bad for you."

"They're not bad for you. Your feet are indestructible."

"But other women's aren't, and I don't want to set a bad example. Especially if you're going to make me a fashion icon for others to emulate."

More snickers from downstairs.

"Secondly, I just don't like them." They made me feel a little slutty, frankly, but I didn't want to get into that, since Alice and Rosalie both wore them regularly.

"They would add height," she argued, although she seemed ready to give in. "You're very short."

"I'm taller than you are," I pointed out. She stuck her tongue out at me. "Do we have an agreement?"

Alice sighed deeply. "Fine. Consider it a deal." We shook hands solemnly. "Do those restrictions apply to lingerie too, by the way?"

"Um, no." General hilarity could be heard from all stations.

I'd packed Edward's clothes, Nessie's clothes, my small but select collection of jewelry, and any other odds and ends that belonged to that bedroom. I finished by folding the bedspread and sheets into the trunk, and closed the lid. "This dresser's going with us, but I assume you're leaving the bed," Alice commented. The Cullens typically left some of their furniture behind for charity pickup, and bought new items on arrival.

The bed was a gigantic expanse of mattress with a frame and canopy of delicate vines and flowers made of finely wrought metal. Edward had bought it for me to use the first time I'd slept at the Cullen house. It had grown on me a bit, but it was still the most immoderate piece of furniture I had ever seen.

"No, actually. I was hoping to put this bed in our new house in Hanover."

"This bed? It's so huge. I thought you'd want a smaller one, like the one in the cottage."

"I'm attached to this one. Edward bought it especially for me." Back when I still used a bed for sleeping.

"Oh, okay." She had a little twinkle in her eye, but said nothing more. "Help me take the frame apart." We had it dismantled and carried down the stairs and into the van in minutes. Alice went off to help Jasper pack the things in their room, while Edward, his piano's safety ensured, joined me to box up his immense music collection and stereo equipment. We carried the cartons through the rapidly emptying house.

"It feels funny to see the house like this," I commented.

Esme was lovingly wrapping the antique "dining" table in furniture pads before carting it outside. "I know. At first, I felt sad to leave places I'd been happy in. But now, I just feel like we take our home with us. It's the family that counts, not the building."

"Yes, that's true." I smiled at her. "I thought you'd feel worse about it. You put so much of yourself into this house."

"But I get a chance to do it all again with a new place." She smiled, her dimples showing. "Are you really upset about leaving?"

"No, not at all." She tilted her head and looked at me more closely, and Edward did the same, glancing over at Jasper as though asking for a polygraph report. No, there were not many secrets in this family. "It just reminded me a little bit of seeing the house empty the last time," I confessed. "After you all moved away."

Esme nodded and gave my hand a squeeze. "That was a bad time for all of us. But at least it can never happen again. Where we go, you go."

"Absolutely." Edward put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer a moment. I looked up at him, and my trace of gloom disappeared. "Enough. Back to work."

He grinned and helped me wrap and carry out the few paintings that were still remaining on the walls.

Less than an hour later we were finished for the day. The huge living area was filled with rolled carpets, disassembled beds, appliances and furniture which was being left behind, waiting to be picked up the next day by a local charity. It was amazing how fast a job like this went with nine paranormal beings working as a team.

Rosalie brought Nessie in from the garden. "She's hungry, and isn't too keen on human food at the moment."

Edward picked her up. "Nessie, we've talked about this. There's not enough time to hunt tonight, and you know you're going to have to eat regular food while we're driving to our new house tomorrow."

She sighed dramatically, and rested her head sadly against his shoulder. I could practically see him melt, and I caught his eye to make sure he wasn't about to concede. "Jacob's going to have dinner soon. Would you like to eat with him?" She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then raised her head and nodded.

Jacob, taking the hint, headed for the kitchen, where he microwaved frozen lasagna while I made a salad. Nessie arranged the cucumber slices on the top in a spiral design. "She's going to be an artist," Jacob told me. "She makes patterns with everything. And look at the drawings she does."

"That's what Edward thinks, too."

Encouraged by Jacob, Nessie ate a reasonable amount of dinner and even accepted a small glass of milk. She reached over and placed her hand on Jacob's forearm.

"We can hunt again after you're all moved into your new house, Ness. You'll have to stick to food until then."

She made a face, but didn't argue.

After dinner, Rosalie offered to give Nessie her bath and get her ready for bed. It was a favourite ritual of mine as well, but I tried not to be too possessive about my daughter. Rose carried Renesmee off, talking softly to her as she went. I turned back toward the kitchen, offering to help Jacob clean up.

"Should I throw out the leftovers?" he asked.

"Might as well. Nobody here's going to eat them."

He gave me a slightly evil grin. "What about you?"

"Ha!"

"Seriously. You used to love lasagna."

"Used to being the key phrase."

"Have you even eaten food since...?"

"No." I looked at the remains of the lasagna. The smell wasn't horrible, but it wasn't remotely appetizing, either. I didn't like to think about putting it in my mouth; it just felt wrong.

"Maybe you should give it a try." I made a face. "Come on! Don't you have to eat sometimes, just to keep up appearances? You should get in some practice."

"Well..." I saw Emmett leaning against the doorway, watching with interest. He gave me a thumbs up sign. I got myself a fork, cut off a good sized chunk of lasagna, and looked at it, trying to recall how this went. I held my breath and stuffed it into my mouth.

The revulsion was immediate, but I began determinedly chewing away, sure it would all come back to me. It didn't. Three seconds later, I threw the fork aside and bolted for the kitchen trash can, spitting the food out as quickly as I could. "Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!" I could hear Emmett and Jacob howling with laughter as I ran to the sink and hastily rinsed my mouth out. "Ew! That's disgusting! Stop laughing, you morons!" They only laughed harder

I straightened up to find Edward standing in the kitchen doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and amusement. Carlisle appeared behind him and took in the scene.

"Bella tried to eat food!" Emmett told him, still chortling away.

"So I heard," Carlisle said mildly. "It can take some practice."

"Ugh!"

He grinned at me sympathetically. "Start with dry foods, in very small pieces, and gradually work your way up to things like lasagna," he advised.

"Thanks." I looked at Edward. "I'm so sorry I dared you to eat pizza!"

He finally let himself laugh. "I forgive you."

"Go for a second try, Bella," Jacob urged. "Come on, that was just a practice swing."

I gave him a dirty look. "I'm throwing the rest of this away." I started clearing the counter. "And don't mention this to Nessie, all right? It's hard enough getting her to eat." I cleared away the unpleasant remains and prepared to join the others, who were sitting on the floor in the now-empty dining room, reading and talking.

"Tell me what you thought of the food, Bella," Carlisle asked. I looked at him in surprise. "Not in English."

"Oh!" Language pop quiz. It came when you least expected it. "Cibus est horrendus." Jacob rolled his eyes.

"Quid ergo?"

"Alimentum mihi non placet. Odiosum est mihi." Food doesn't please me. It disgusts me. If that wasn't clear already.

"Cur manducare?" he asked. Why did you eat it?

"Um...versipellis tentaverunt me et comedi." The werewolf tempted me, and I did eat. I thought he'd appreciate that one.

"Optimum!" He and Edward both laughed.

"I still can't believe you picked Latin," Jacob grumbled, sitting cross legged against the dining room wall. "Why learn a language nobody speaks? It's kind of anti-social."

I'd heard nothing but complaints from Jake since I made the selection. All the Cullens knew multiple languages, and it was suggested that learning a new language would be a good pastime until Nessie was a little older and I was ready for university. I'd chosen Latin, explaining that it would be helpful to someone majoring in biology, as I intended to. Carlisle, who had been familiar with Latin since his youth, gladly coached me, and I was astonished at how easy it was to become fluent in a new language when you have perfect recall.

The tutoring had improved my relationship with Carlisle as well. I'd always liked and admired Carlisle, but while the rest of the Cullens had also been fun and easy companions, I'd been a little in awe of Carlisle. I now found that he both had a sense of humour, if a slightly dry one, and was good to talk to. To Carlisle, there was no such thing as an unworthy topic if it was approached honestly and with an inquiring mind, and he happily discussed anything from science and philosophy - kindly bringing the subject down to my level as needed - to popular culture, feminism, the ethics of infant beauty pageants, and on one memorable occasion the problematic physics behind allowing Superman to fly.

I was revelling in it all. Like Marvin the Robot, I now had a brain the size of a planet. I was enjoying my new, expanded brain almost as much as my new, faster, more graceful body. I hoped to master the various Romance languages before moving on to Greek. From there, wherever my interests took me. And studying science at Dartmouth no longer worried me in the slightest.

We all gathered in a circle, sitting on the hard floorboards but perfectly comfortable. Rosalie brought Nessie back from her bath, dressed in pyjamas and looking adorable. I took her onto my lap and stroked her damp hair as she proceeded to show me images from her day, occasionally agreeing to answer questions from the family by speaking out loud. In spite of the upheaval of the familiar house, I felt peaceful and very much at home, and I hoped my little girl felt the same.