I have taken the bar exam and can now devote time to writing this story. I'm not going to promise weekly updates, but the updates will be more regular. We move along a little this chapter and have some ExB interaction. For those of you who have stuck with me, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review! Also, I have started a one-shot that has a bit of a twist ending. If you are a talented banner maker, I would love to post it with an awesome banner. Please PM me if you're interested and I will give you a brief rundown of the premise of the story.

Have a Little Faith

Chapter 3

My dad stood and extended his hand. "I'm Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and my son, Edward." We all nodded in greeting as Daddy took his seat..

"It's very nice to meet you all," Dr. Swan said as she walked around Dr. Gorenski's desk to pick up Momma's medical file. "I just wish it was under better circumstances. Before I get started, is there anything that you would like to ask me?"

Momma and Daddy looked at each other and a non-verbal conversation transpired in a matter of seconds. Momma nodded before Daddy said, "How old are you?"

It seemed like a valid question to me. We had been told that we would be meeting with a resident. This woman looked barely old enough to be starting medical school, much less have graduated and be well on her way to a career.

Dr. Swan smiled and said, "I'm thirty-five. I get that question a lot. I'm sure you get it too, Mrs. Cullen?"

My mother cocked her head to one side and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"If I didn't have your medical records at my disposal, with your date of birth prominently displayed, I would have never guessed that you were any older than forty-five... fifty at the most."

Momma's posture relaxed a bit and she smiled for the first time that day. "Thank you and please... call me Esme."

"Only if you will call me Bella. We will be working quite closely during this fight; we should be on a first name basis. Don't you agree?"

I caught myself nodding at this question although I wasn't sure who she was addressing. I had never seen a person who appeared so young have such a commanding presence in a room. I was in awe of her; I had only known her for five minutes and I had yet to speak a word to her.

"Is there anything else?" I again found myself responding my shaking my head no. "Well, then," she said as she slid her glasses from the top of her head down to the bridge of her nose, "the good news is that you are asymptomatic. We have found the cells in your blood, but other than that you show no other signs of the disease."

"That's what I kept telling Carlisle last night. I don't feel sick. I'm a little tired, but I'm in my sixties. Shouldn't I get tired more quickly now?"

"MCL is... different. The reason I believe that the mortality rate is so high is that most people don't know they have it until it's too late. By the time most people start showing symptoms, it has already spread throughout their body. No amount of chemotherapy can combat it then."

I finally found my voice and asked, "What are the symptoms?"

"MCL can cause what is called 'B-symptoms.' These symptoms often resemble the flu or mono, which is why most people are not diagnosed initially. If you had not had a previous history of cancer and had not been coming in for routine blood work, it may have never been diagnosed properly.

"In more advanced stages painless swelling in the neck, armpit, or groin will occur from enlargement of the lymph nodes. Oftentimes, more than one group of nodes is affected. It has also been found in the bone marrow, the stomach, the liver, and the spleen."

"How do we fight it? Can we fight it?" Daddy asked.

"We are most definitely going to fight it," Bella replied. "The first thing that I want to do is send you to M.D. Anderson for more tests. They have a study currently underway that I would like to get you in. I think you are an excellent candidate. It appears that we have caught it early and that will give us more time to devise a treatment schedule."

Daddy and Momma started another non-verbal conversation. When Momma turned to face Bella again, she asked, "What kind of tests?"

"They'll do a CT of the chest, the abdomen, the pelvic area; maybe a bone marrow biopsy and a lumbar puncture. Are you having any abdominal or gastrointestinal issues?"

"Like what?" Momma asked.

"Constipation, diarrhea, anything abnormal?"

"No, nothing at all abnormal."

"Then they will probably forgo the colonoscopy for now. They'll do a physical exam, paying particular attention to the node-bearing areas of your body, including the Waldever's ring."

"What is that?" I interrupted.

"The Waldever's ring?" I nodded. "It's the lymphoid tissue ring located in the pharynx and to the back of the oral cavity."

"I'm a lawyer. You're going to have to break that down a little more."

She smiled and lightly touched her throat. "Your adenoids and your tonsils. Um, where was I? Oh yeah, they'll look at the size of your liver and your spleen; those are the organs it favors. And of course more blood work."

"When do you want me to go?" Esme asked.

"Monday," Bella responded. My mother gasped with surprise. "I know that it seems sudden and that you've been hit with a lot of information today, but I really would like to get the diagnosis nailed down and get you approved for the study as quickly as possible."

"How are the other people in the study responding to treatment?" Carlisle asked.

Bella slid her glasses back on top of her head. "I'm not going to lie to you; some respond better than others."

"How much time do I have if I don't have treatment?"

"Six months... maybe a year... maybe longer. You're asymptomatic now, but you won't remain that way. It will start to grow and it will spread and when it does... it's fast. I've heard it called lymphoma on speed."

"How much time with the treatment?"

"One to three years... maybe more we don't know. We have a subject in the study now who has survived for three years. We have no other subject on which to base a more definite timeline. I don't want to give you false hope, because this disease is incurable, but I can tell you that we learn more the longer you live and the longer you live the more protocols we can try to keep you alive."

"If it were you, what would you do?" I asked.

"I'd have the treatment."

"Are you saying that so that she will and you can study her?"

"I know that you don't know me, but I ask that you trust that I would never manipulate a patient in that way. If it were me, and I was given the option of three years versus one... I'd take the three."

"Well, I guess we get to book a flight and a hotel room," Esme said, making her decision.

"So, you're going to do this?" I asked.

"I'm not done yet. I want to see my grandchildren."

"Momma, I'm not married. I'm not even dating anyone right now."

"That is precisely why I have to fight this. I have too much left to do to let this kill me so soon."

"I was hoping that you would agree to go," Bella said as she sighed with apparent relief. "Don't worry about booking flights or hotels. M.D. Anderson has use of a private plane. You can leave out of the Birmingham Airport on Monday morning. There is a hotel attached to the hospital that we use to accommodate patients and their families. I will set everything up for you and call you tomorrow with all the details.

"Do you have any questions for me now?" Bella asked.

We all looked at each other before Carlisle said, "Not right now. I think we're all just trying to process it. Can we call if we think of anything?"

"Of course," Bella said as she took a business card from the pocket of her lab coat. She slid her glasses back onto her nose and wrote a number on the back of the card. "If it's after hours, you can call me on my cell phone." She handed the card to my mother and pushed the glasses back up onto her head.

"Oh, we would never..." Momma started before Bella interrupted her.

"Believe me when I tell you that my work is my life. Your health and your concerns for your health are my priority. I insist that you feel free to call me at any time."

"She's not kidding," Dr. Gorenski said from behind us. "Bella practically lives at the hospital."

"May I ask you a question, Esme?"

"Sure," Momma said with a shrug.

"May I pray with you?"

I took a step back at this question. You see, I had been an agnostic for quite a few years... much to my parents chagrin. While Momma and Daddy were at church every Sunday no matter where they were, I hadn't set foot in a church since Jasper and Alice were married. I never prayed. I thought it a waste of time. There was no higher power guiding our lives... things just happened. That a doctor... an educated person... would believe in such things threw me for a loop.

My mother nodded and Bella walked around the desk. She knelt in front of their chairs and took my mother's hands in her own. She bowed her head and began to pray.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

"Dear Father, I come to You now, Your humble servant. I pray for You to be with Esme and her family. Give them strength to fight this scourge that has invaded her body. Give them comfort as they know that Your plan will be fulfilled. Touch them now and shine Your love down on them during this time. Father, I pray for You to be with me and to guide me. Use me as Your vessel, Lord. Give me the knowledge I need to lead Esme in her fight. These things we ask in the name of Your son, our savior, Jesus Christ. Amen."

As Bella prayed, I looked around the room. My head was the only one in the room not bowed. My eyes were the only eyes that were open. I was the only non-believer in the room.

Bella raised her head and opened her eyes. I don't know why, but she turned to me and our eyes locked. A small smile formed on her face. "I hope that will give you some measure of comfort."

"Um, yeah," I muttered. "Some." I nodded and looked away; embarrassed for the first time at my lack of faith.

We left the doctor's office and walked out into the lobby of the Bruno Cancer Center. I was just a scared as when I walked in, but for some reason I felt calmer. I didn't want to explode and scream obscenities at the air. I didn't want to scream and curse at the sky; asking why my angel of a mother... why her? It was a strange feeling for me.

I stuffed my hands in my trouser pockets and stared at my feet for a while. I finally noticed that no one was talking. I looked up to see my parents staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you okay?" Daddy asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"I'm fine. I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you."

"I don't have cancer. Worry about Momma," I replied. I kicked at one of the floor tiles and then turned for the door. "I want Niki's," I said over my shoulder. "I need veal."

They followed me to the restaurant. We were silent as we ate our meal. Finally, no longer able to stand it, my mother broke the silence.

"Edward, you have to talk to us about this. This is going to be a team effort. I want you on board. You can't shut us out and not expect us to worry. This isn't like you."

I looked up from my plate and saw my mother's brown eyes brimming with tears. "Please don't," I said with a groan. I sighed. "I'm scared, alright? I'm scared and I'm confused, and I'm... I don't know what I am." I gritted my teeth to fight back the tears that I felt forming behind my eyes. "I'm not ready... to lose you."

A single tear rolled down my mother's cheek. "I'm not ready to go. That's why I'm going fight this."

"But three years... that isn't enough time," I whispered.

"It's never enough time," Daddy said as he reached across the table to touch my arm. "Thirty years wouldn't be enough time and three years isn't guaranteed. We'll take what we can get and make the most of it."

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. "I wish it were me. I wish you didn't have to go through this again."

"No, Edward," Momma said as she got up and slide into the chair next to me. "I never want you to think like that. I would never wish this for you or anyone. I don't even wish it for myself, but it's a reality. I have cancer. I have a cancer that has no cure. It doesn't mean that I won't fight it for every second I have left. Every minute, every hour, every day that I live is another day that mantle-cell lymphoma can't take from me. The longer I live, the closer they get to a cure."

"How can you be so calm about it all?" I asked.

"I've given it to God," she replied. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Don't do that. I know that you don't believe. As much as I hate it, I accept it, but don't discount my faith."

I lowered my eyes to my lap. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't worry, son, It will all work out the way it's supposed to in the end," Daddy said as he stood. He started walking to the front door. Momma patted my hand and moved to follow him. It took me several seconds to compose myself enough to follow. Only then did I notice that the sneaky, old man had taken the check and paid for our dinner.

I drove Momma and Daddy to the airport the following Monday morning. None of us had ever been on a private plane before. We had no idea what the protocols for it were. How do you check in? Is it different than a commercial airline? In truth, it was much different. We didn't go to the main terminal. We turned onto a road about two miles from the main terminal and went to a different, smaller airfield.

A security guard at the gate stopped us and checked our identification. He matched it to the names on a list he had and directed us to drive until we got to the runway marked 'B'. As we approached the runway, I noticed that the airplane sitting on the runway was emblazoned with the words 'Dean Foods' in large navy blue and dark green letters. This was somewhat confusing.

A man was standing at the foot of a set of stairs that led to the open door of the plane. He wasn't dressed as I thought a pilot would be dressed which just added to my confusion. I got out of the car and stood looking over the top of it waiting for instructions from Daddy. I was thinking that we may be at the wrong place.

The man approached our car and said, "Are you the Cullens?"

"Um, yeah," my daddy said with a furrowed brow. "I'm Carlisle and this is Esme." He gestured to Momma as she slowly got out of the front passenger seat. "I don't know if we're in the right place."

"Oh, you're in the right place," the man said cheerfully. "I'm Eric and I'll be your attendant for the flight to Texas."

I was staring at the words printed on the side of the plane when Eric spoke again. "Dean Foods donates the use of its corporate jet, as do many other Texas based companies, to M.D. Anderson. I assume that it's a tax write-off or something. I can assure you that you are in the right place and that we will get you to the hospital; or at least to Love Field. I think you'll probably want to take a car to the hospital," he said with a chuckle. "Can I help you with your bags?"

I walked around to the trunk and started to remove the suitcases. Eric joined me and picked up the smallest one of the bunch. He smiled at me and said, "I thought there were only two Cullens today, but," he lowered his chin and looked at me through his lashes, "I think I can make room for one more."

I said, in what I hoped was my most masculine voice, "That won't be necessary. I'm only providing the taxi service today."

"Hmm, pity," he said as his eyes swept from my head to my feet. He turned and started for the stairs. I sighed and shook my head as I followed with the larger cases. That was not the first time that I had been flirted with by a man, nor would it be the last.

I followed Eric to the back of the plane and placed the bags in the area he indicated. While he secured them in place, I looked around. The plane wasn't what I expected. I guess I'd seen too many movies with replicated interiors of Air Force One. I also noticed that there wasn't a stripper pole like in Iron Man. The plane was actually smaller than I thought it would be. We were standing in what was obviously a small cargo area. We had walked through what appeared to be a small kitchenette. I looked back into the fuselage and saw that there were eight seats on the right and four seats on the left with the aisle running through the middle. In truth, it looked like a miniature commercial airline plane. It wasn't fancy; it was functional.

Momma and Daddy had entered the plane and were also looking around. Momma hates to fly. She's never been comfortable with it. When I was a senior in high school, I had the opportunity to go to New York with the Future Business Leaders of America. Momma chaperoned. We, of course, flew. She held my hand and rubbed my thumbnail with her thumb until it was shining like I had polished it. When I turned and saw the death grip she had on Daddy's arm and hand I couldn't help by smirk. He was going to have one shiny thumbnail when they got home.

"Well," Eric started, "the pilot is almost done with the pre-flight and we've gotten word from the tower. We'll be getting ready to take off in about five minutes. So, unless you've changed your mind and want to go with us, I think it's time for the 'see ya laters'." With a little hop, he glided to the front of the plane and entered the cockpit.

I pulled Momma into a hug and noticed that she was trembling slightly. "It'll be okay," I reminded her. "More people die in car accidents than plane crashes."

"Please don't say 'die' and 'plane crash' in the same sentence while I'm on a plane ever again," she said. I chuckled and shook my head.

"Call me when you get there." I waved to them one last time before exiting the plane.

A few hours later, Daddy called to let me know that they had made it and were checked into the hotel. I asked him about his thumbnail and he said that it was shining like a diamond. I heard Momma tell him to shut it before we both started laughing. They promised to call the next day to let me know how it was going.

I had to be at the courthouse the next day. I sometimes assist Jasper on divorce cases, especially when there is a lot of real property involved. He had one of those and it was not going well. Mediation had not been successful; therefore, it was going to court. I was his co-counsel.

After much arguing back and forth, the judge finally concluded what we knew all along... the wife was being unreasonably vindictive. Don't get me wrong. The guy she was divorcing, our client, was an asshole, but she couldn't take it all. Alabama is a community property/no fault state. Yes, he cheated, but that still didn't entitle her to every single property, every car, all the money, and everything else of value. Then again, all that would have been moot with a halfway decent pre-nup.

In the end, the judge told us to get together and write up a fair and equal (emphasis on the equal) property settlement and submit it to him by the end of the next week. Jasper scheduled a meeting with the opposing counsel for that Friday and we left the courthouse in time for lunch.

We decided to grab a bite at Taziki's; a Greek restaurant on 18th Street. We had ordered and taken our seats, when Dr. Swan walked in. For some reason that I couldn't explain at the time, I stood when I saw her come through the door. Jasper looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said, "Dude, you okay?"

"What?" I asked as I looked down at him.

"Why are you standing?" he asked.

I sat back down and mumbled, "I know that woman."

Jasper turned and asked, "Which one?"

"Um, the one standing at the take-out counter." I hadn't seen Dr. Swan since the day that she prayed with my parents in Dr. Gorenski's office, but that didn't mean that she had left my mind. I had found myself thinking about her more than I wanted to admit. She intrigued me. She was different. Most doctors that I had encountered thought that they were God and I had certainly never seen one pray to God. She was also so confident; she commanded the room. I found this fascinating.

Jasper turned back to me and said, "Nice. She's hot."

"What?"

"She's really good-looking. Did you date her?"

"No," I said, taken slightly aback. "She's one of Momma's doctors."

He turned to look at her again. "She's a doctor? She doesn't look old enough."

"She's thirty-five," I mumbled, still staring at her.

Jasper smirks and said, "An older woman... niiiiice."

"Fucking shut up," I said as I finally looked back at him. "It's not like that."

"Then why are you blushing."

"I'm not blushing."

"Okay," Jasper said with a dismissive shrug. "You do realize that she'll have to walk past us to get out the door, right?"

"So," I said with a shrug. "She walked past us to get in and she didn't recognize me."

"You were at her back. She'll actually see you when she leaves."

"Again… so? I've only seen her once before today. She barely paid attention to me then. She won't recognize me," I said as I took a bite of roasted potato.

"Yeah, like you're so forgettable," Jasper said, putting a chip in his mouth.

I rolled my eyes and continued to eat my food. I had just taken a bite of my chicken roll-up when Dr. Swan started walking toward the door. I looked up and our eyes met. She paused a few steps from our table and cocked her head to one side. I watched as the recognition lit up her eyes. She smiled and walked to our table.

"You're Esme Cullen's son, right?" she asked.

I hurriedly tried to swallow my food without choking. "Um, yes, I am. And you're Dr. Swan."

"I thought that was you," she said cheerily. "How is your mother?"

"Don't you know?" I asked, more than a little confused.

Dr. Swan laughed and said, "I've seen her test results, yes, but I want to know how she is… and your father."

"Oh, they're fine. Momma says that she feels like a pincushion and isn't looking forward to the lumbar puncture, but they're doing well." Jasper kicked me hard under the table.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Dr. Swan said with a smile. "Did you get a sudden, sharp pain in your shin?"

"It's nothing compared to sharp pain in my a… neck," I said as I glared at Jasper. "Dr. Swan, this is my associate, Jasper Whitlock."

Jasper turned and extended his hand. "Don't let him fool ya. I'm more than an associate. We're practically brothers. "

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jasper. Please call me Bella. You too… um, Edward, right?"

"Yeah, it's Edward."

"I'll let you get back to your lunches. It was nice seeing you again."

"Yes, you too." I watched her walk out the door.

"Um hmmm," Jasper said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"'It's not like that.'"

I can't say that there was much of anything good that came out of my relationship with Tanya, but one thing stayed with me… her soap. She used this particular type of Dead Sea Minerals soap and I had fallen in love with it. It left me feeling squeaky clean. No joke… I actually squeaked. The only problem was that I could only find it at this one kiosk in the Brookwood Mall.

Being a normal, heterosexual male, I hate the Mall. Any mall is Hell. I know that loving a soap makes me sound very metrosexual, but I swear that it's my only metro quirk. I don't shop. I don't go into stores and look around. I treat stores and shopping like battlefields and missions. I make detailed plans of attack… lists. I get in and get out. The quicker the better.

Such was the plan the Thursday of the week that Momma and Daddy were in Texas. I needed soap. The kiosk was on the Belk end of the Mall. I parked in the deck on that end and walked as quickly as possible to the escalator in Belk. I rode to the second floor. I practically sprinted through Belk. I made it to the kiosk and asked for three bars of my precious soap… a six months supply.

I paid for my purchase and turned back toward Belk. That's when I saw her. Dr. Swan was walking right toward me. Her head was down so she didn't immediately see me. I froze. I didn't know what to do. Fate made my mind up for me when Dr. Swan looked up and our eyes locked. She smiled and I felt my face flush, although I had no idea why I would be blushing.

"Edward Cullen," she said as she approached me. "We really have to stop meeting like this. People will talk."

"Wha… pardon me?"

"I was making a joke."

"Oh, yeah," I stuttered. "Funny."

"Yeah, obviously," she said and her smile faltered.

"No really, it was funny. I just wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I come here once a month to get a pedicure." She pointed down to her feet. "What do you think?"

"I think that I would never have pegged you for a red toenails kind of girl."

"It's called 'Dear Santa.'" I must have smirked a little because she said, "Hey, I didn't name it; I just read the bottom of the bottle. So, what are you doing here?"

"Buying soap," I said as I held up my bag.

She looked confused before she said, "Isn't that something you would get at Wal-Mart?"

"Not this kind. Trust me… I tried." She raised an eyebrow, so before she could ask, I said, "It's a long story… don't ask."

"How much does mall soap cost?"

I half-smiled in embarrassment as I confessed the absurdity of my addiction to this soap. "Ten bucks." I reached up with my right hand and began rubbing the back of my neck as I waited for the normal disbelief response.

"Per bar?" she asked.

"Um, yeah."

"Must be good soap."

"You have no idea." To this day I'm wondering what part on my brain was controlling my mouth when I asked her, "Have you eaten dinner?"

"No, not yet. That's where I was going. I was headed for the Food Court."

"Do you mind if I join you?"

She hesitated a moment, which made me totally regret letting this mystery part of my brain retain control of my mouth. I was about to tell her to forget it and be on my way when she said, "Sure, why not."

"You really don't mind?"

"If I didn't want your company, I would have told you 'yes, I mind,'" she said matter-of-factly. She took a few steps toward the middle of the mall and then turned back to where I was rooted. "Well?"

"Okay," I said a little too enthusiastically. I fell in step with her as we walked through my own personal Hell, which was strangely not as hellish that day. As we approached the Food Court, I realized that I had never been this far into the Brookwood Mall before and had no idea what I wanted to eat. In truth, there weren't too many choices. I could get Chinese, if I wanted subpar, preprepared, overcooked sesame chicken. Something called a 'McAlister's Express' was my next choice... tempting. Something that I thought might be Japanese food, but I wasn't sure, was next. Of course, there was a Sbarro. Every mall in the country had a Sbarro. It was as constant as Chick-fil-A, which, not surprisingly, was to my left. There was a Bar-b-que place that looked closed and a Charley's Subs as well. None of the choices leapt out and screamed 'eat me'.

I was standing there trying to decide what would give me the less severe case of indigestion, when I felt Dr. Swan's hand on my wrist.

"C'mon," she said as she started pulling me toward the Chick-fil-A. I remember thinking that a chicken sandwich would be good. I was still thinking that as she walked past the 'stand,' for lack of better word, and stopped in front of Charley's Subs. A girl was standing there with a tray of samples. Dr. Swan took one off the plate and popped it in her mouth. She then motioned for me to do the same.

I picked up the tidbit of sandwich and looked at it. I opened it to see what it was. It looked like chicken and maybe cheese. I was still eyeballing it when Dr. Swan said, with much exasperation, "Just eat it."

"What is it?" I asked.

The girl holding the sample said, "Chicken California."

I was opening my mouth to ask what exactly Chicken California entailed, when Dr. Swan said again, "Would you just eat it? It's good. I get it every time I come here. I would never poison you. Eat it."

I slowly took a small bite out of the sample. I had to admit it was good. I popped the rest in my mouth and smiled. "Not bad."

Dr. Swan turned to the man behind the counter and said, "Two Chicken Californias, an order of bacon/cheese fries, a Sierra Mist, and a..." She turned to me and raised her eyebrows.

"Diet Pepsi," I replied.

"And a Diet Pepsi," she said, finishing the order. She reached into her purse and this time I grabbed her wrist.

"I don't think so. I kind of invited myself. This one is on me." I took out my wallet and handed over my debit card.

"Thanks, Edward. I appreciate it. Now I really hope that you like this sandwich, so I don't feel bad that you paid for it."

"I'm sure I'll love it," I said as I smiled down at her. I suddenly had the strangest sensation in my chest. The only way to describe it is to call it a flutter. My goddamn chest fluttered when I looked at her! It made my face redden and I had to quickly look away.

I started paying way too much attention to the guy making our food. I watched him grill the chicken, toast the buns, add the cheese, and dice it all together before he slid it onto the buns. He then slathered the whole thing in ranch salad dressing. Dr. Swan had him add lettuce to her sandwich, but I left mine plain. He then covered a heaping plate of French fries with melted cheese and bacon bits.

I took the tray of food from the counter and followed Dr. Swan to a table by the railing. As I sat the tray on the table, I looked up and we made eye contact. That fluttering happened again and I furrowed my brow in confusion. I didn't understand this reaction to looking at her. She smiled a little half-smile, half-smirk at me and sat down.

She took her sandwich off the tray and took a large bite. I watched as her eyes rolled back in her head.

I laughed, causing her to look at me. "Anything that elicits that type of reaction has to be good."

"It's fabulous," she sighed. She then reached across the table to snag a cheese covered fry. "These are fabulous too. I never finish a whole order, so I only got the one for us to share. They are absolutely divine."

I took a fry from the plate and popped it in my mouth. "Oh, good God," I moaned. "You're right." They were divine. I completely forgot about the sandwich for a minute as I quickly devoured three more cheese covered pieces of heaven. I finally took a bite of my sandwich and had to agree with her assessment... it was fabulous.

We quietly continued to enjoy the surprisingly delicious food. I would occasionally steal a glance at her to see if I got the fluttering feeling again. She caught me looking at her a couple of times and smiled... that's when the flutter happened. I didn't understand it. It was a weird reaction to making eye contact with someone and one I'd never had before. I didn't really know what to make of it.

I watched as the devouring of her meal slowed and she began to have a sated look on her face. She finally placed the last little bit of her sandwich down and pushed the plate away. "Oh, I'm stuffed," she moaned.

"You can't be 'stuffed,'" I teased. "There are still fries left on the plate."

"You're on your own," she said as she pushed them closer to me.

"Nuh, uh. You ordered them; you made me love them; you have to finish them."

"That makes no sense, whatsoever."

"I can't do it alone," I said as I pushed the plate back toward her. "At least eat a few more."

"Seriously... I can't. I'll pop... I swear," she said as she again pushed the plate in my direction.

"C'mon, Dr. Swan. Can you tell me of at least one medical case where someone has 'popped' from overeating?"

"Why do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?" I was more than a little confused. I thought we were joking around; teasing each other. She seemed so serious when she asked me that question.

"Why do you call me 'Dr. Swan'?"

"Well, that's... who you are," I said, still confused.

"No, I'm Bella. What I do for a living is 'doctor' and my surname is Swan, but I am Bella. It would be like me calling you 'Attorney Cullen' every time I addressed you. I'm not your doctor and even if I were, I would want you to call me Bella."

As she spoke, my heart started doing the flutter thing again. I had never met a woman quite like her. She was smart and funny and so confident. I could feel my mouth begin to twitch into a smirk as she berated me. Usually, I would have hated being reprimanded like this; it would have embarrassed me, but not this time. It just made her more intriguing to me.

"Okay, Bella it is. I didn't mean to offend," I said as I fought to keep for smiling at her like an idiot.

"Thank you. And no... there are no documented cases that I know of, but I could be the first." She crossed her arms and scowled at me as I began to laugh. "And obviously, you would have no sympathy. You'd just sit there and laugh." This sent me over the edge into hysterics. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and doubled over.

"Are you okay?" she asked through her own laughter.

"You're a nut," I said, gasping for air.

"And you're insane," she replied.

"Well... yeah, I am a little. I think it's a job requirement." I paused and looked at her, causing the fluttering again. "I'm having a really good time."

"You sound surprised."

"I don't usually have that great of a time in the mall, but I am tonight. Thank you."

"I'm having a good time too. I don't know that many people yet, so it's nice to have company for dinner. So, thank you, Edward... for having dinner with me."

"How long have you been living in Birmingham?"

"Only four months. I rent an apartment at Stonegate. I've met a couple of my neighbors, but I spend so much time at the hospital that I haven't made any friends really."

"And you lived in Houston before?"

"Yes, but I was in Palo Alto before that and Tempe before that. I'm from Phoenix, Arizona originally. What about you? Have you always lived in Alabama?"

"Yep," I said as I popped another fry into my mouth. I was bordering on uncomfortable, I was so full of food, but they really were irresistible. "I grew up in Gadsden, went to Tuscaloosa for college and law school, and then moved here when I got the job at Najjar. I'm an Alabama boy; born and raised."

"Never wanted to go anywhere else?" she asked.

I shrugged and said, "I don't know. I've never really given it much thought. My family is here and my friends are here. I have a good job. I have a nice home. I have a good life here. What about you? Why Alabama?"

"It was a good opportunity. I've always lived in the West. I thought that it would be a good experience to try something new. I had other offers up North, but I don't think that I would enjoy the climate. I have thin blood and thinner skin," she said with a laugh. "Alabama seemed like a good choice. The Bruno Center is highly respected and they work very closely with Anderson."

"I'm sure that you miss your family though and your friends."

"It's just my dad. I do miss him, but he supports my decision to explore my options."

"You don't miss your mother?"

"My mom passed away when I was fourteen."

I felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"How could you?" she said with a smile. "It's okay… really. She's the reason I became a doctor. She had cancer."

"Was it…?" I asked, thinking that her mother might have had MCL too.

"No, it was pancreatic. It was too far advanced by the time they caught it for anything to be done. Usually, if you catch pancreatic cancer early, it's treatable, but in advanced stages… it's as deadly as MCL. It's just as hard to diagnose too. My dad and I watched her just… waste away. I knew then that I didn't want other families to have to go through that if I could help it. So, I started studying more and worked my rear end off to get the best grades possible. Dad could never have afforded to pay for college without my help and I knew it. I got scholarships to pay for my entire undergrad at ASU and student loans for medical school. I'm still paying those suckers off!" she said with a chuckle.

"I got lucky with the internship at Anderson. They are doing great things there. Many of the most effective treatments that we use today were developed from research done in Houston, Texas."

"Then why not stay?"

"I was an intern. It was never meant to be a permanent position. I had to move on to a residency. This job became available and I took it. It's as simple as that.

"What about you? Why a lawyer?"

"My uncle and my aunt are attorneys. You'd have to know my Uncle Emmett to understand, but I've always looked up to him. I guess I wanted to be him."

"I bet he's proud of you."

"I guess. He and Aunt Ro are criminal defense attorneys and... well... I'm not."

"What do you do?"

"It's really boring," I said as I rubbed the back of my neck. I don't know why, but I was slightly embarrassed. "It's very unglamorous."

"What?" she asked with a confused smile.

"I'm... a patent lawyer. I help people get patents with the U.S. government." I nodded my head and smiled sheepishly. "It's very boring."

"I bet you see some really interesting inventions," she said. "That doesn't sound boring."

"Do it for a few years. Anyway, it's not nearly as interesting as being a doctor... saving lives. That's glamorous."

"Do it for a few years," she said with a laugh. The mall public address system suddenly announced that the mall would be closing in fifteen minutes. I looked down at my watch and, sure enough, it was fifteen minutes until nine.

"Wow, I didn't realize it had gotten so late," Bella said as she started cleaning up our mess.

"Let me get that," I said. I took the tray to the garbage and disposed of our trash. I got back to the table to Bella digging around in her bag. "I had fun tonight."

"I did too, Edward. Thanks for the company." She located her keys and jangled them in front of her face in triumph.

"Do you think... I mean... I'd like to... you know... maybe... do this again," I stuttered out like an idiot.

"I don't know, Edward. That may not be such a great idea."

"Oh. Well, okay. Um, thanks... for dinner and the conversation."

"Okay, now I've hurt your feelings and that wasn't my intention. It's not that I didn't have a good time tonight... I did. But, Edward, I'm one of your mother's doctors. I'm sure that there is some ethical issue involved with going out with you. That's why I don't think it's a good idea. It's not that I don't find you attractive, because I do, but it's bad timing. Please tell me you understand."

"I do." And I did. That didn't mean I had to like it. "You're right. At least let me walk you to your car." I walked Bella to her car and waved to her as she drove out of the deck. She may have said no to a date, but if we ran into each other again... who knows. I vowed to need soap again next month.

Momma and Daddy returned from Texas a couple of days after my non-date with Bella. I didn't mention it to them. After all, it wasn't really anything. Right?

Momma had been poked and prodded incessantly. She'd had blood work, a lumbar puncture, and a bone marrow biopsy. Daddy said that she'd endured it all without complaint, which was typical Momma. She never seemed to complain. The MCL was of course in her blood, but they also found it in her bone marrow. This was a bit disturbing for the doctors since they couldn't find it in any of her lymph bearing areas. Leave it to Momma to be atypical.

Momma had been accepted into the research study, so the doctors wanted to start treatment right away. Momma had other ideas. The holidays were right around the corner and Momma didn't want to be sick from the chemo through the holidays. Her reasoning was that she felt great at the moment, the cancer wasn't in any of her lymph nodes, and it was her body and her decision. No one was happy about it, but she was right. It was her decision. So, the doctors, including Bella, reluctantly agreed to wait until the first of the year... with some conditions. Momma had a standing appointment with Bella every Monday until the treatments started in Houston in January.

Momma's decision made for an interesting Thanksgiving. Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Emmett have a massive house. So, it has become the family gathering place. Every holiday is spent at their house. Aunt Ro goes all out in the decorating department. Thanksgiving is no exception. We have a relatively small family. It's usually just Aunt Ro, Uncle Em, Alice, Jasper, Momma, Daddy, and me, but that doesn't faze my aunt. She has the whole thing catered. There's always too much food.

Thanksgiving 2008 was no exception. I walked in behind Momma and Daddy and instantly smelled the turkey. There's always a ham as well, so Momma made a pineapple casserole, which is really the only thing I would eat if given the choice. We made our way into the kitchen where Rosalie was busy pointing out where everything was to go to the caterer. I'm sure that the poor woman would much rather have been home with her own family, but I was also sure that Rosalie was paying her handsomely for her time. Regardless, I stepped in to help.

"Here, let me. Ro, let the woman go home. We're here and there are more than enough hands to put the food out." I turned to the caterer and said, "Happy Thanksgiving. Go home."

The woman glanced around me to Rosalie.

Rosalie let out a sigh and said, "He's right. Thank you so much for all your work. Please go home." She reached into her purse and handed the woman a very thick envelope that I assumed contained a large amount of cash.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cullen, thank you so much. I hope ya'll enjoy it all. Happy Thanksgivin'." She left quickly through the back door.

I turned to Rosalie and said, "Where to?"

We finished putting out the food and took our places at the table. Just like every year, Rosalie insisted that we join hands to pray and give thanks for all our blessing. I joined hands just so I didn't rock the boat, but as usual I left the praying to the others.

Emmett started the prayer. "Our Heavenly Father, we thank you for this day and the bounty before us. Thank you for all the blessings that you have bestowed on this family. We ask, although we know we are unworthy to ask you for anything, that you look down on Esme and be with her through her battle with this cancer. We leave it with you, for you have a plan for all of us and we know that you have a plan for Esme. In the name of your son, our savior, Jesus Christ, amen."

A chorus of 'Amen' followed before we all began passing plates around. After our plates had been made and everyone had started to eat, the shit hit the fan.

"When do you leave for Texas, Ez?" Rosalie asked.

"January fourth," Momma answered as she took a bite of turkey.

"January fourth?" Momma nodded. "Why so long? Why not next week?"

"I don't want to be sick through the holidays."

"Esme, this could kill you! You can't postpone treatment just because you don't want to be sick during Christmas. Your health is too important. You have to go next week."

"I leave January fourth," Momma said calmly as she placed her fork on the table. "End of discussion."

Daddy and I know what a calm Esme means. We both angled our bodies away from the two women at the end of the table.

"Hell, no, it is not the end of the discussion," Aunt Rosalie practically yelled. "Have you thought about the rest of us, Esme. What do you think losing you would do to us?"

"It's my body," Momma said calmly as she wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin, "and my decision. I expect my family to respect that."

"You expect me to respect you putting your life in danger?"

"Rosalie," Uncle Emmett said as he stood from his place at the head of the table.

"Don't," she said as she glared at him.

""Let's not talk about this right now, Rosalie." We all knew that when the two of them reverted to full names that it was go time. They were both mad and it was obviously simmering at the surface for both of them.

Rosalie stood from her place at the end of the table. "I love you, Esme. You are my sister. I can't lose you. You have made a bad decision. You need to leave as soon as possible and start the treatments. You need to leave next week."

"No."

"Esme..."

"Enough!" Momma yelled as she stood. "It is my decision! I have none of the typical symptoms. If you'd bothered to ask I would have explained all that to you. But, no, not Rosalie. You just had to have it your way. This isn't about you or anyone else in this room. It's about me. It's my life and my choice. The doctors have agreed to it. This is truly the end of the discussion." She threw her napkin down onto the table and stomped out of the room.

I looked around the room at the stunned expressions that I knew mirrored my own. I didn't know what to say or what to do. Daddy stood up and started to follow Momma from the room.

"Carlisle?" Rosalie said.

"It's in her blood and her bone marrow, but it isn't in any of her lymph bearing areas. It also doesn't seem to be in her stomach, pancreas, liver or colon. Right now she has it but she's asymptomatic and healthy. The doctors would prefer that she start treatment immediately, but they don't think that it will hurt anything to wait seven weeks. She will be monitored here at Bruno weekly."

"I didn't know," Rosalie said as she lowered her head.

"You didn't ask," Daddy said as he turned to find Momma.

Rosalie slowly sat in her seat. She turned to me and said, "I'm sorry."

I nodded and said, "I know. For what it's worth, I agree with you. I wish that she would reconsider and go next week too. She's just so stubborn. She's made up her mind and nothing, except made symptoms suddenly showing up, will change it."

"So, she's really healthy, but has cancer?" Alice asked.

"Apparently," I replied. "That's why this type is so difficult to diagnose. If she hadn't gone in for her check-up, it probably wouldn't have been found until it was too late."

"There are people in the world that have this and don't know?" Alice said with a look of almost horror on her face.

"Yes. Only about six percent of the people diagnosed with lymphoma have this type and most don't live very long after being diagnosed."

"Wow," she said. "I'd never even heard of it until Aunt Ez got it. You never hear about it in the media. I've never even heard of a charity that funds its research."

"I know. They treat it like a dirty little secret."

"Do you think that Aunt Ez would let the station do a story about her and this cancer? We could get the word out. Maybe get funding for more research."

"I don't know," I replied. "You'd have to ask her."

"Ask me what?" Momma said as she and Daddy came back into the dining room.

"Ez?" Rosalie said as she stood and started around the table.

Momma held up her hand stopping Rosalie in her tracks. "Let it go, Ro. We can talk about it later." She took her seat and turned to Alice. "What did you want to ask me, dear?"

"Well, I'd never heard of mantle cell lymphoma until you were diagnosed. I don't think that anyone has really heard of it. So, I was thinking... if we did a story on you and your treatment we could maybe get the word out. You know... maybe get it more funding for research. What do you think?"

"I don't know, Alice. I've never been on camera before. I don't know that I would be very comfortable."

"Please, Aunt Ez. We need to get the word out. We could do a whole series on it. We could follow your treatment and everything. Please at least think about it."

"Okay," she acquiesced, "I'll think about it."

We finished our meal in relative peace. The tension in the air was still high. Everyone noticed that not long after the dishes were deposited in the kitchen, Momma and Aunt Ro went upstairs and didn't come down for a long time. When we did finally see them again, they were in the kitchen washing the dishes and laughing like nothing had happened.

Momma started her weekly check-ups with Bella the Monday after Thanksgiving. For three weeks, Daddy would drive her to Birmingham from Gadsden for her one hour 'visit' with Bella. But then, on the Sunday of week four, I got a phone call from Daddy.

"Edward, I hate to bother you, but I have a problem."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Maggie at the clinic in Fort Payne has a family emergency out of state and they need me to come in tomorrow to fill-in. Your momma's appointment with Bella is tomorrow. Could you take her?"

"Let me check my calendar." I walked to my home office and opened my book. "I have a thing in the afternoon that I can postpone until Tuesday. What time is her appointment?"

"It's at two."

"Yeah, I can do it. I'll make the call first thing in the morning to move this appointment to Tuesday and be there to pick her up at ten. Is that too late?"

"Ten is fine, honey," Momma yelled from the background causing my eyes to roll.

"Can you eat before the appointment?"

"I suppose," she replied.

"Then we'll get some lunch and then go see Bella. How does that sound?"

"It sounds wonderful! I can't wait to see you, baby."

"See you tomorrow," I said as I disconnected the call.

I picked Momma up a little after ten and started back to Birmingham. We stopped at the Taziki's in Mountain Brook for lunch before going to the Bruno Center for her appointment. At ten minutes past two, the nurse came into the waiting area for Momma.

"Do I go back with you?" I asked as she was walking to the door.

"No need. You can wait here. Someone will come get you if I need you."

"I'll be here then," I said with a smile. I sat back down and took out my Blackberry to check my messages.

About an hour later Momma and Bella walked out into the waiting room. I was surprised to see Bella, but I was even more surprised that when she looked at me and smiled I got that flutter in my chest again.

"Edward, hi!" she said enthusiastically. "Your mother said that you were out her and I just had to step out to say hi. How have you been?"

"I've been good. What about you?"

"I'm okay."

"You didn't tell me that you and Bella had dinner while I was in Texas." Momma not so gently punched my shoulder.

"We just kind of ran into each other," I said as I rubbed my arm.

"Edward took pity on me, I think," Bella explained.

"I think it was the other way around," I joked. "It was really good to see you again, Bella.

She extended her hand to me and I didn't hesitate to take it. The sensation that ran up my arm was intense and it left me momentarily speechless. "Um, yeah," Bella said as her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "It was great to see you too."

I reluctantly withdrew my hand and smiled weakly at Bella. Momma and I turned for the door.

Suddenly, Bella said, "Oh, Edward, I found that soap you love for $7.34 a bar on Amazon... with free shipping."

"Oh, well, thanks," I said with a huge smile. With that one comment I knew. Bella Swan was thinking about me just as much as I was thinking about her.