Chapter Three

Previously:

After about thirty-eight minutes, Felix turned into driveway of one of the grey houses.

Only Aro and I stepped out of the car, which made the size of the party even more confusing. We walked to the front door (which was made of wood, not stone) and Aro seized the black knocker and banged it. I heard hurried footsteps make their way to the door and after a few moments where the person flustered with the lock and key, the door opened.

In the frame stood a man in his late thirties and brown hair with a hint of grey. His face was strained when he saw who was at the door but surprised when he saw me.

"Hello George," Aro said, smiling, in his gentle voice that persuaded all

"Aro," the man, George, said in a voice that matched his facial expression

"As promised, I have brought someone to help," Aro gestured to me which made George's eyebrows shoot up.

"Come in then," he said politely and stepped aside to let us in.

I walked through a short hallway of white walls and a painting of a harbour. It ended in an arch, which opened up into a kitchen, lounge room and dining room. I liked open plan houses. The kitchen was to the left of the house (if you stood out the front) with the dining room opposite below. The lounge was to the right of the house, a little further away from the kitchen than the dining room. I saw another passageway at the end of the room, which I presumed led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. George took us to the lounge room and seated us on the white leather couches.

"Coffee?" he asked, still flustered

"Not for me," Aro replied

George turned to me, "And you Miss-?'

"Renesmee. Renesmee Cullen," I answered feeling like a female version of James Bond, "Yes please."

He nodded distracted, and walked quickly over to the kitchen and a coffee machine. His removal let me survey the room further. The walls were white, with a deep blue wall at the end of the room. The lounge room had armchairs that matched the couches and a plasma television placed on a marble counter. In the middle was a dark red coffee table. Italians liked coffee. I turned my head to the dining room, which consisted of a table and chairs. The table was a rectangle (no kidding, but it could have been circular) with eight matching chairs of mahogany wood. Like mom's hair. There goes the emotionless beast again, thinking of home without pain.

George returned with the coffee and I sipped it, grateful they liked their coffee hot in Volterra. Coffee was disgusting cold. I liked heat.

Aro wasted no time, "As I said before, I have brought Renesmee here to assist you,"

George nodded. I nodded. Aro nodded. I laughed. George looked at me weirdly. Aro ignored me. I sighed.

"So, what do I have to do?" I asked trying to break the silence

"I have to work," George began nervously, "I need you to keep an eye on the kids. I've got a three year old, sixteen year old and seventeen year old," he dug out his wallet and showed me pictures of three very attractive children. The woman, who they resembled, was present in one photo and I assumed she was the one 'attacked'.

"Ok, babysitting. Anything else?" I avoid the topic of the age gaps

George looked embarrassed, "I can't cook very well and as I'm not here most of the time, the house cleaning is often left to the children."

I nodded enthusiastically trying to ease his pain, "No problem. When do I start?"

Aro laughed quietly and after a minute George joined him and I sat there, feeling perplexed.

"It seems I must leave you now, George," Aro announced suddenly, standing up.

"Yes of course, I don't want to keep you," George stood as well and led Aro to the door.

I trailed after him, with nothing better to do, figuring I might earn some brownie points if I was polite. Brownie points for what, I did not know.

Aro shook George's hand and when Aro withdrew, I saw George give a tiny shiver. Must be the cold.

"Renesmee," he said once and if he had been wearing a hat, I bet he would have touched it, and turned and walked out the door.

We stood at the doorway and watched the black limo dive off.

"Well," I said, another silence breaker.

George ran a hand threw his hair and glanced at the leather watch on his wrist. His eyebrows had the tendency to shoot up into his hairline when surprised.

"I'm afraid I can only give you a basic tour before I have to leave," he apologised while walking back into the main room quickly.

"That's okay," I told him

"As you can tell this is the dining area (he pointed to each section in turn), lounge room and kitchen. Basic appliances, here, nothing too hard to use" he walked in to the kitchen, "Coffee machine is pretty easy to use y-."

I cut him off, "I have a similar one at home,"

"Oh, okay. That makes things a lot easier," he admitted

I smiled at him, I actually wanted to laugh, George was so anxious all the time. I followed (being sheep today) him to the end passage but were greeted with an expected person coming out of it.

The first time I saw Gabriella James I thought she was drunk. A small figure came out of the hall, laughing to herself. First, she wasn't in school (as it was Tuesday or something like that), had bed hair and looked drained. I saw her shoot me a confused look before laughing again.

"Okay. Yeah, no kidding. Okay. Yep," and talking to herself too, "Anyway, gotta go Stace. Ok see ya soon. Bye,"

Oh, now I saw the little silver cell phone pressed to her ear.

"Gabby, what are you doing here?" George asked looking flustered, while pressing buttons of the blackberry that he took from his pocket during my observations.

"I have a cold, father," she said, Captain Obvious, as she coughed through the sentence

"Stand on your head for half an hour," I offered, "Gets rid of blocked noses."

"Yeah, right," Gabby rolled her eyes at me, "And may I ask who are you?"

She also had attitude problems.

"This is Renesmee," George said, still distracted, "She's going to help around the house."

"Like a maid?"

"No more like a foster mother," I intervened, curious for her reaction.

I saw her eyebrows shoot up, like her fathers did, "But you're like ten!"

"I'm nineteen," I lied quickly, hoping I could pass for it.

"Yeah and I'm ten foot," she quickly held up her hand as I was about to respond, "But I don't care, as long as you don't go all evil stepmother like. Even better, just don't go maternal."

Blunt too. George then cursed loudly (and Gabby called out "Children present" but I bet she uses worse).

"I have to go. My funds are about to be cancelled," he explained while grabbing a black briefcase off the table, "I'm sorry to leave you here Renesmee, but I'm sure Gabriella will fill you in."

"Oh thanks," Gabby muttered, soft enough that only my super-powered ears could hear.

"That's okay," I called but he had already left. Must be important.

"So," I said drumming my fingers on the kitchen counter.

Gabby sat on the dining table and swung her legs. I sighed in relief that sitting on tables wasn't out of bounds; it was a habit since birth. I propped myself onto the kitchen counter. Hating awkward silences, I had to break it.

"What time do you other siblings get here?"

"Didn't dad tell you their names?" she asked bored

"No, he just showed me pictures," now that I thought about it, I hardly new anything about the people I had to 'babysit'.

"Well the baby's David and my brother is brother. David's a boy, obviously, and he is at child care. My brother is at school and will arrive in about five minutes,"

"Oh okay. Do I need to pick up David or your other brother?" I was desperate to get this right.

I have no idea why. Oh yeah, maybe because people's lives now depend on me. Well, not quite but almost. I had this sudden rush of realisation. This is kind of, what it felt like to be a mom, without the confusion of who the children actually were.

"Yeah, at four. And I like your name, other brother. He walks; the school is like five minutes away if you cut through the bush,"

"The bush!" I yelled, I was used to telling humans to avoid it

"Calm down woman. Everyone goes through it, there are tracks all through it," Gabby seemed to have eye rolling in her non-speaking vocabulary list.

"Oh okay. Sorry for freaking out, but where I came from it wasn't safe in the woods,"

"Uh huh," I could tell I had lost her interest as she was texting on her phone

I glanced at the clock, three thirty; I suppose I should find out where this day care was.

"Do you happen to know where the place is?" I felt like a tourist

Without looking up Gabby replied, "Directions on the refrigerator,"

"Thanks," I mumbled, already pulling the magnet off the fridge

I looked at the words and realised I had no sense of direction here. I didn't even know what street I was on.

"Gabby, we need a taxi," I announced miserably

"Why?" at least this time I sparked some sign of life from her

"I've never been here before,"

"Everything is on the main road, duh,"

"No I mean, like never been to Italy before,"

She turned to face me surprised, "I forgot you had an accent. American hey?"

"Yeah. Aren't you?"

Gabby nodded again, "I was born there. We are not Italian at all."

"You don't happen to know where it is?"

"I'll come with you," she offered jumping off the table

It seemed my character analysis of Gabby was slightly wrong. She was lifefull (instead of lifeless) when she chose. But wasn't anyone lifefull when they chose. The way my brain worked would never be explained. It was like a mathematical expression, in a test that someone got wrong, but the marker didn't know how that someone got the answer they did. And the someone died or something and you couldn't ask them how.

"Thanks," today was full of thanks and ohs and yeahs and sorrys

Gabby walked to the front hall and to a light brown table I had missed. There was a glass bowl and in it were hundreds of keys. Okay, there were twelve but it's a figure of speech. Oh dear, I'm arguing with myself. Pathetic.

Gabby pulled out car keys, "I'll drive today and you can watch, then tomorrow you'll know where to go,"

I nodded, glad that I had supersonic memory. She strode out the door and turned right into a garage that was about half the size of the one at home. I guessed that meant theirs was big. Here we go with the theirs and ours, this lack of pain towards home was getting annoying. There were times when you wished you were normal. I wasn't the ours anymore but the theirs. If that makes sense.

Gabby was already in the car by the time I had finished looking around. The garage was plain red brick, with another small car and the end. The space in the middle, I figured, must have been for George's car.

I opened the door to the people mover (there had to be twenty seats in there) and slid into the passenger seat. I buckled up and waited for Gabby and her human reflexes, to get going.

She raced out of the driveway and down the road. I winced every time we exceeded the speed limit on the busy roads. It wasn't that the speed was unusual, vampires and werewolves like to drive fast. Running was a lot faster than driving too. It was the fact that she didn't have super senses. It would be all too easy to crash, lose control of a way to fast moving car. I decided to do the driving, starting from the tomorrow.

I noted the landmarks and roads needed to get to the childcare place. We got there just over half past. That speeding was a good thing in some ways.

It was the customary red brick, an elongated one-storey building. The car park was small and barely full, so I guessed that we had come at the quiet time or it just wasn't that popular. The people mover didn't seem out of place either.

Gabby pulled a laminated card out from one of the many slots in the car.

"Here, this is the license. Lets you take the kid out, makes sure you're not a stranger,"

I nodded and accepted the card I slid out of the car and made for the door entitled entry.

I heard the automatic window wind down, but didn't turn until I heard Gabby speak.

"You need to sign at the front desk every time you come and leave. David's in the second blue door on the left,"

"Okay, thanks," I told her and turned back to the entrance.

When I stepped into the brightly lit room, I wasn't expecting to find what I did.

No way in hell. Well, maybe no way in Volturi land, it's practically the same thing.

Sorry for the mini cliffhanger, the chapter was turning into a short story and I needed to end it. I'll just say I'm being professional or something. That really didn't make sense so I'm just going to shut up now.