A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. Almost done here! I'm trying to crank this out, so please forgive any delay in review replies. But I'm enjoying the heck out of them! :)
Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest are mine. So are all mistakes.
Chapter 8 – The Straw that Broke…Well, You Know How It Goes
It's a bit past eight p.m., two days before Nessie's sonogram appointment, where Edward, Tanya, and I will learn the sex of the baby so that we can finish planning the Gender Reveal Party of the year.
Honestly, I've warmed up to the idea of the party. I mean, it's a party. Also, I can let loose my passion for planning, cooking and baking to my heart's content, an activity which has always had the side benefit of being a soothing balm. What's more, the party will be in honor of Ness, Anthony, and their baby. What better party is there to plan?
And it has taken planning because I've had to get creative since pink and blue foods aren't the easiest to come by, and using food coloring kind of goes against my beliefs. Nevertheless, I've planned an entire menu – pink and blue deviled eggs dyed with beet juice and eggplant juice, pink and blue lemonade dyed with strawberries and blueberries, pink and blue Jell-O shots, pink and blue chocolate dipped pretzel rods, cake pops, cupcakes, etc. Of course, there will also be plenty of normal food: quiches and Seven-Layer nacho dips and mini lobster rolls, and…well, you get the idea. The crowning glory, at least culinary-wise, will be the cake.
I've sketched out the cake on my pad. It will be owl-themed, as will be much of the party decorations since my Ness has always had a fascination with owls. The round base on which the cake will be placed will be covered in white fondant. Around the side and in perfect pale green script frosting, I will spell out, 'Babies are a Hoot.' Hah!
Now, the bottom tier of the cake will be square-shaped, and also covered in fondant. But this tier will be decorated in a whimsical pattern I've designed on my sketch pad, with part of the pattern consisting of pink and white stripes. The top tier will be a round cake fitted on top of the square tier, covered in a soft, pastel green fondant which will match the words on the base. This tier will be encircled by small and darker green pieces of fondant cut into flowers. On the side of the round cake, I'll affix an edible tree with a chocolate trunk and white chocolate and green leaves, so that the entire effect of the top tier will resemble a garden. The cake toppers will be two hand-assembled marzipan owls, one pale blue and one pale pink, and both with big owl eyes.
"That looks amazing," Edward says, grinning proudly at the sketch book on my lap. "You're so damn talented, babe."
"Thank you," I smile, gratified by his admiration.
He and I are seated side by side on the sofa in front of our fireplace. The TV above the mantle is turned on, but neither of us is paying much attention as I finalize Nessie and Anthony's cake.
"So now, when we find out the baby's sex…you're going to dye the inside of the cake itself?"
"Yep," I say. "The cake itself will be homemade vanilla, but I'll dye it either pink or blue so that when Ness and Anthony cut into the cake, the baby's gender will be revealed."
Edward chuckles, shaking his head. "That's actually pretty cool."
"It is," I agree with a chuckle of my own. "I'm excited."
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me against his side. "The kids are going to love that cake, Bella."
"I hope so," I sigh.
I've put my all into this cake – my fears, my frustrations…as well as my excitement and joy.
Tanya and I have been in touch throughout the past couple of weeks. We've met a couple of times, once here and once in L.A., to compare and combine our thoughts and ideas. The décor she's planning is…amazing, expensive, and her right to indulge in. She wasn't thrilled about the Owl theme, or about the pale pink and blue color scheme, but it's what Nessie wants, and so she's dealt with it.
"Of course they're going to love it, babe," Edward murmurs close to my ear. "It's beautiful, it's sweet, and it combines all the stuff Nessie's into right now – owls and nature and chocolate."
We both chuckle.
"Boy, she seriously is liking sweets right now, isn't she?"
Edward laughs. But then, he moves in closer and skims his warm lips up and down the side of my face. It's distracting, ticklish, and…well, distracting.
"Hey, guess what?" he breathes, nipping my earlobe. "I like sweets, too."
"Edward stop," I laugh, attempting to remain focused because I still feel like there's something missing in the base of the cake, and I can't quite put a finger on it. "I've got to get this design complete, so I can buy any last minute ingredients tonight. We've got that meeting in L.A. tomorrow, and I might not have time to…oh, fuck it."
When he buries his face against my neck and his tongue darts against the base of my ear, lips wet and warm, I completely forget about the base of the cake. What base? What cake?
The sketch pad falls to the wood floors as I allow my husband to push me over the sofa, and I wrap my arms and legs around him.
"I'll help you shop tonight…" Edward murmurs against my mouth, his lips skimming lower as he lifts my shirt, "afterward…"
"After what?" I grin when his mouth leaves mine, a soft moan escaping me when he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks.
"After I've made you come."
My back arches, which presses my breast against Edward's mouth. He responds by opening wider and sucking on more skin.
"Edward…" I breathe as his hand disappears inside my sweats, and he pushes a finger in.
"Don't forget the market closes at eleven," I remind him in between moans, in between pushing his finger in deeper with one hand and pushing down his sweats with the other.
Edward chuckles. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, my love, but it's not even nine. I'll be done way before then."
When the doorbell rings, we freeze and meet one another's gaze, both of us wide-eyed and waiting, hoping it won't ring again.
It rings again.
"Fuck," Edward spits, slowly climbing off of me and picking up his pants, while I readjust my clothing as well.
"Probably the kids," I chuckle.
"Damn kids," he mutters as he adjusts his hard-on, rearranges the cushions, and picks up my sketch pad.
"The good thing is they have their own house now," I say as the doorbell rings again, and I make my way toward the door. "And they'll eventually be gone, and we can continue exactly where we left off."
"Yeah, but don't forget the market closes at eleven," he teases me as I open the door.
Our mutual laughter dies as I open the door, and my grin completely evaporates when I take in the fear in Alice's expression.
"Alice, babe, what is it?" My voice shakes as I take her hand and gently tug her inside. She appears completely lost.
As I shut the door behind her, I hear Edward approaching swiftly before he stands next to me.
"Al, you want to sit, hon?"
She shakes her head.
Her usually gorgeous blond locks are a disarray around her pale complexion, her blue eyes glassy. She's shaking, dressed in cigarette pants and a wrinkled, stained white blouse. I vaguely realize the stain looks like Baby Peas in Sweet Vermont Cheddar – this week's TufBaby creation.
"Please, come sit down, my love," I plead, taking her hand again. But she pulls it out of my grip.
When she swallows and finally replies, her voice quivers.
"I'm fine. I'm fine."
As Edward and I wait, because there's nothing else we can do, he reaches between us and threads his fingers through mine.
Alice draws in a deep breath. "Jasper had a routine prostate exam a couple of days ago; you know, because of his dad's past history."
As soon as those words pour out of her, all blood drains and pools to my feet. My throat constricts painfully, and the hand not in Edward's grip presses against my chest. The only thing that prevents me from falling apart is knowing that she needs me to be strong right now, not to make things harder.
"They called a short while ago and said…they found abnormalities. He's been scheduled for a biopsy early tomorrow."
"Al…" I breathe, reaching for her again. This time she allows me to pull her into my arms. But she doesn't cry, and neither do I. She and I…we've both been here before, but on opposite sides. And through some mutual, unspoken agreement, we won't give into despair. Just as we didn't then.
But we hold one another tightly, as tightly as we can.
See, Alice and I are sisters. Our first bond developed in college, when she was the first one to whom I opened up about my own heartbreaks…about Edward…and the baby. We were both thrilled when I met and fell in love with her brother, Sam, and we became real sisters when Sam and I married. She was my encourager and my part-time caretaker when I became pregnant with Nessie, and she became my daughter's godmother when I happily gave birth to a healthy baby. She was my rock when Sam passed away. And as hard as it must've been at first for her, she was again my biggest encourager when Edward and I found another once again. Through Edward's and my love, she found her love at forty-two. She became a mom at forty-three, and in a way, she made Edward and I parents once again, by making us Sammy's godparents.
No matter what, Alice will always be my sister.
With a deep breath, she pulls away and smiles weakly. "I hate to do this because I know we have that meeting in L.A. tomorrow, but I'd like to go with him."
"Al, of course," Edward says. "Don't even…don't even think about the meeting."
"Thanks," she nods, and then she chuckles emptily and looks at me. "But I need another favor. Do you think you can watch Sammy for us tomorrow? I don't know how long it'll-"
"Of course," I say, just like Edward just said, and I squeeze her hand the way Edward squeezed mine.
"Thanks," she repeats. "I might have to bring her really early though because the biopsy is scheduled-"
"Ally, why don't you just bring her over tonight, then?" I suggest. "That way, you and Jasper can have a quiet evening to yourselves, and get everything together in the morning without having to worry about early-morning hiccups?"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course we're sure," Edward offers once again. "We love that baby, Al. You know that."
She nods, that weak smile making another appearance. "I do know that. Thanks, guys."
When she leaves to pick up Sammy and bring her over, Edward wraps me in his arms. My mind swims in bewilderment. Thoughts of Jasper and Ally mix and mingle with memories of Sam and me. Worse than all that, there's a fear niggling at the outer edges of my mind, a fear which has been present in the back of my mind since the moment I acknowledged to myself how much I still loved Edward. It's a fear I suppose everyone with a significant other keeps hidden in the back of their minds, and it's only those of us who've once lost a significant other which are ever forced to face it. And it's a fear those of us who've lost a significant other bury even deeper because we know the devastation that fear can bring.
I can't allow myself the slightest acknowledgment of that fear because I have to remain strong.
"Are you okay?" Edward murmurs in my ear.
He knows. Of course, he knows. I've told him everything.
I draw in a deep breath and look up at him. "I will be."
OOOOOOOOOO
When Al and Jasper drop off Sammy later that evening, Edward and Jasper disappear into the backyard for a bit. Edward and I haven't had much of a chance to talk, much less process everything because we've been getting ready for Sammy's sleepover.
Despite the possible devastation awaiting us, I chuckle when they arrive because seriously, all the shit one must travel with when one has a toddler. It's crazy. Al and I set up everything while Edward and Jasper are in the backyard, and Alice chuckles along with me.
"You better warn Ness and Anthony about all the effin' gear they'll be hauling around for the next ten to twelve years," she says as she stacks up pull-ups and baby wipes galore on the side table.
"Effin' geeah," Sammy repeats.
"Hey, hey, hey!" I say, lifting her into my arms. "Such a fresh mouth." I tap her lips with my forefinger. "I've warned them," I snort, holding Sammy's gaze, "but they're in La La Land. Playpens look so pretty," I say in a mockingly dreamy voice, making Sammy giggle, "and tiny diapers are so cute," I squeal, fluttering my fingers in her face, "and lavender-scented wipes are the best invention ever!"
"Evuh!" Sammy laughs, though I'm not sure she understands half of the crap I just said. Nonetheless, hearing her daughter's carefree laughter instinctively makes Alice laugh. And I can't help being grateful for that much.
She walks over to us and plants a kiss on her daughter's forehead. Then, she meets my gaze.
"Don't tell the kids, okay? Not until we know for sure what's going on, one way or another. I don't want them to worry right now."
She's a mom, like me.
"I won't," I promise.
"Thank you," she mouths, "for everything, Bella."
"Ally, we're family. Always."
"Always," she repeats.
OOOOOOOOOO
Alice brought Sammy's playpen, but Sammy ends up sleeping between Edward and me because I can't bear to place her in that tiny prison. She shifts and turns all night, not because she can't sleep. Trust me, this kid is out. A sweet, little pout turns up those tiny lips as she dreams of…whatever little ones with that level of carefree innocence dream. But it's a big, comfy, king-sized bed. Nevertheless, my eyes pop open periodically throughout the night, just to check on her. Instinct, I suppose, left over from almost two decades of having my daughter under my roof. In the dimness provided by the nightlight I've left on, I watch her tiny chest rise and fall.
And every time my eyes pop open, I find Edward's eyes already open. And every time, they're either on me or on Sammy.
Instinct.
OOOOOOOOOO
The next morning, or what I can only assume is morning, I hear the humming of some tune I don't recognize. Then, little fingers begin dribbling my lips. They move on to bounce off of my nose. Finally, when all attempts fail, the little fingers pry open my eyes.
"Good morning, Aunt BB." A sweet, caramel face peeks down at me, blond locks tangled around a head.
"Hey, munchkin, hasn't anyone taught you to keep those baby blues shut 'til the sun comes out?"
She giggles. "I'm hungwy."
"Uncle Edward makes the yummiest pancakes," I inform her, holding her hands so that I can attempt to close my eyes again.
"Uncoe Edwood is snowing."
It takes me a handful of seconds to realize she doesn't mean an abnormally cold Christmas has arrived – and early – to Newport Beach. When I hear Edward's snores, her meaning crystallizes all the more.
"Fine, fine," I sigh, reopening my eyes and smiling. "Let's go get the little gremlin fed."
I bathe and dress Sammy in one of the fifty changes-of-outfit Al and Jasper brought over. Then, I take her downstairs and set her in her highchair attachment and turn on the kitchen TV, flipping channels until she squeals in delight at some animated characters on the screen. I leave it right there.
Taking advantage of what I know from experience will only be a few minutes of distraction, I spend those few minutes making early morning cancellation calls and backing them up with texts regarding the meeting which must be rescheduled. It's barely dawn, so I don't expect much of a reply yet. Nevertheless, Anthony and Ness, who are included in those texts since Anthony was supposed to join us, reply right away. With Swan Bellies to be prepared, they're up before the crack of dawn.
Mom, is everything okay? Ness texts.
Mom, Ness is making today's Swan Bellies, but we wanted to make sure you and Dad were okay. Why is the meeting being rescheduled?
Everything is fine, guys. Your dad and I had a scheduling conflict.
I hate lying to them, but I promised Alice I wouldn't say anything until we knew more.
Oh, okay, Anthony replies. Well then, I'll just finish helping Ness with today's creation and work from home for the rest of the day. I'll be here if you need me.
Sounds good, honey. Hope you're both well today. Love you.
We are, Mom. Thanks. Hope you and Dad have a good day too, and we love you too.
I draw in a series of successive sighs, and for a few moments, I just stare at the phone. But Sammy has lost interest, and so I set the phone down.
We spend the next twenty-minutes making pancake batter. She has a ball throwing fistfuls of chocolate chips and marshmallows into the bowl – mostly into the bowl. What the kid doesn't know is she'll only be fed about a spoonful of what she's making because I'm simultaneously making a much healthier batter on the side.
While Sammy eats, I shoot Alice a text:
I know you and Jasper are going to be busy today, but I just want you to know that all Edward's and my thoughts are with you. Your little munchkin is safe, bathed, fed, and happy. No worries about her, okay? When and if you can, keep us apprised. Love you guys.
Thanks, Bella. We just arrived at the hospital. Give Sammy a kiss from us. I'll call/text as soon as I can. Love you guys too.
OOOOOOOOOO
I'd almost forgotten how busy a day with a toddler can be. But it's good as well. Busy. Did I say that already?
Sammy is literally a ray of sunshine, and everything she does and says is a distraction from having to think too much of whatever is going on just a few miles away, at the hospital.
Edward wakes up a short time later, and between he and I, we keep Sammy entertained while attempting to get some work done here and there. By late morning, when Sammy goes down for a nap, Edward and I are exhausted and ready for a nap of our own.
Alice and Jasper haven't been in touch yet. And while Edward and I try to keep our spirits up, I can tell he's on edge as much as I am.
For a while, as Sammy sleeps, I try to focus on perfecting and revising the menu for Nessie's party. Unfortunately, when Sammy wakes up, she's revved and full of energy.
"Hey, babe," Edward says, lifting Sammy onto his shoulders the way she loves for him to carry her, "I've got a few errands to run. If you want, I'll take Sammy, and you can have some time here to finish that design up."
"Are you sure?" I ask.
"Sure I'm sure," he grins. "Hey, Sammy, you want to go bye-bye with Uncle Edward?"
"Yay! Bye-bye with Uncoe Edwood!"
So I pack up a bag with about twenty pull-ups and fifteen of those fifty changes of outfit, and I hand it off to Edward. He chuckles as he leans in to kiss me.
"I'll see you in a few, okay?"
"Okay, and thanks," I chuckle in return.
"No problem. I love you, Bella." He places two fingers on my temple. "Try to relax that a bit, okay?"
"I will. I love you, too."
OOOOOOOOOO
About a half hour after they've left, I finally realize what's missing at the base of Nessie's cake. Unfortunately, as I'm sketching it out on the pad, the doorbell rings.
My heart thumps painfully. Are Alice and Jasper back already? Why didn't they call? If things went well, she would've called right away, before she left the hospital, to set me at ease.
My heart races as I rush to the door, hand shaking as I turn the knob.
"Tanya?"
Tanya exhales in obvious irritation, brushing past me and leaving the scent of expensive perfume wafting in the air. I shut the door and turn around.
"What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean what am I doing here?" she asks. "We were supposed to meet a half hour ago at that little restaurant you like."
"Oh, fuck," I say as I remember. I lay a hand over my eyes and shake my head before reopening. "I'm sorry, Tanya," I say sincerely. "I completely forgot. I've had…a hectic morning."
Her eyes take me in from head to toe. I haven't changed out of the sweats I slept in. I've spent all night worried as hell and all day entertaining a two-year old.
"I can tell," she smirks, "but the sonogram is tomorrow, and we were supposed to hammer out a few of the last-minute details today."
"You're right, you're right," I say. Then, I wave a hand in invitation. "Do you want to come in, and we can…hammer out as much as we can?"
She looks around. Again, I'd like to point out I've had a toddler toddling around all day. The house isn't in its most spotless condition.
"Sure," she drawls.
I lead the way into the kitchen, while Tanya's stilettoes click-clack noisily over my wood floors. Now, my kitchen is usually the pride of my domain. Today, there are dirty dishes mounting the sink, pancake batter spilling over a bowl on the counter, and it looks as if a chocolate chip and marshmallow volcano erupted everywhere. I hear her stop, and when I turn around, her lips are pursed in disgust.
"I've been babysitting my goddaughter today."
"Looks like it was quite the event."
"Whatever. Let's just…" I wipe chocolate chips off a stool so she can take a seat.
She stares at the seat for a few seconds, then she turns to me. "This isn't going to take long, anyway, Bella. I have good news."
"Oh, and what's that?"
"Have you ever heard of Mina Rodrigues?"
"Of course I have," I say. "She's the hottest chef in L.A. right now."
"Yes, she is," Tanya grins, her red lips spreading wide. "And her sister was recently a client of mine, who's case I won in record time. Therefore…" she pauses, her grin growing all the wider, "Mina has agreed to cater Anthony and Vanessa's party!"
Perhaps it's the exhaustion of being so fully responsible for a toddler for the first time in so long, but when I ask what party she's referring to, it's because I really don't know what party she's referring to.
"What do you mean what party?" she snorts. "The Gender Reveal Party!"
Again, I simply stare at her. My eyes narrow in bewilderment, and I place a palm on my chest. "But…I'm catering Nessie and Anthony's party," I remind her.
Tanya rolls her eyes up to the ceiling. "Bella, you just said you have heard of Mina Rodrigues. Correct?" She says this super slowly as if she's talking to Sammy.
"Yes, I have," I reply just as slowly.
She exhales with dramatic flourish. "Look, I know you have your little baking and baby food business which you're trying to turn into a full-fledged corporation," she says, waving around a bejeweled hand, "but this. is. Mina. Rodrigues. We're talking wildly popular, wildly in demand, and not an Owl around."
I'm not sure how much time transpires while Tanya and I stand in the middle of my messy kitchen. Nor do I have any clue what she's thinking. I'm not even completely sure what I'm thinking because my thoughts are a jumbled mess of the past, the present, good times, and bad times. When I finally sigh, I'm not even sure what I'm about to say.
"Are you fucking kidding me here, Tanya?"
Tanya's head jerks back. "Excuse me?"
"I said are you seriously fucking kidding me here? Have you been kidding me these past few weeks with all this bullshit? Is someone about to jump out at me from somewhere, or is this really and truly your idea of being a parent?"
For a few seconds, she stares at me through wide, shocked eyes. But then her nostrils flare.
"Go to hell, Bella. Who the hell do you think you are to tell me how to be a parent?"
Now, I jerk back. "Who do I think I am? I'm Nessie's mother, I'm Anthony's mother-in-law, and I'm his stepmother."
"Flip that around a bit, sweetheart, minus the shitty stepmother nonsense, and that's exactly what I am, which gives me just as many legal rights here as you."
"We're not in a courtroom, Tanya. This is family not business," I nod, "and in a family setting, no, you don't have the same rights as me."
"What?" she spits.
"Do you really think a few months of texts, of giving out shitty and common advice which can be easily found on the internet, combined with a few weeks of planning a ridiculously overpriced party and buying unnecessary and outlandish trinkets earns you rights I earned through almost a quarter of a century of real parenting? Almost a quarter of a century of late nights when Ness was a colicky baby followed by late nights when she was a six-year-old, terrified in a hospital because she needed her appendix out, and late nights waiting up when she was a teenager first learning to defy curfew? Almost a quarter of a century of kisses to her newborn skin," I say, my voice breaking, "kisses to her scraped knees, and kisses to her forehead when someone broke her heart? Almost a quarter of a century of tears of pride, and of joy, and of…friggin' heartache? And when I met Anthony-"
She steps toward me and hisses, "Let's get something fucking clear, Isabella Swan; Anthony is my son."
"I know that." I nod and swallow thickly, shutting my eyes momentarily and furious at myself when my voice breaks yet again. "I do know that. When I met Anthony, I tried not to love him; God knows I did, but that was only at first because since then, I've loved him and cared for him as if he was…yes, as if he was mine," I cry, laying a hand on my heart. "So, tell me Tanya if, in all fairness, you honestly believe your bullshit gifts earn you the same rights I earned, the rights Edward and I earned through blood, sweat, and tears for both of them?"
She glares at me.
"There's no courtroom here; no jury, so let's be honest with one another," I spit, waving a hand wildly toward her. "You can't buy what you never earned, and it eats you up inside, because deep down, you know you're not capable of more, and it makes your attempts increasingly ridiculous. For weeks, I've kept shut about how outlandish this party has gotten because I haven't wanted to upset the kids. But there you go. That's what I really think about your bullshit party, about your expensive decorations, and about your world-famous chef."
The silence which follows is deafening.
"Let me tell you what's going on here because I've kept shut too, but since you had your say, it's only fair I have mine," she grins. "Your issue, Isabella Swan, can be summed up with one, simple word."
"If that's what you think, Tanya, then you obviously haven't heard a word I've said because my issues need a hell of a lot more than one word to sum up."
"Oh, I heard. You're just full of shit. Your real issue is jealousy, Isabella. Plain and simple jealousy. That's what eats you up. You're jealous because when you married Edward, you thought you'd claim my place in Anthony's life as well."
"I wasn't trying-"
"But to your chagrin, it turns out Anthony does want his real mother, regardless of all those other bullshit titles you give yourself. You're jealous because your own daughter prefers my company, my ideas, and my advice to yours. And you're jealous because when this baby is born, it's probably going to prefer me as well. And do you know why they all prefer me, Bella?"
As much as I want to shut her up, I'm quaking too violently to even speak.
"Because you're petty. You act like you're so superior, such a modern-day, intelligent and enlightened woman," she taunts, "yet you're nothing but a small, self-righteous, petty woman who can't get over the fact that almost three decades ago, you couldn't hold on to your man."
When my eyes bulge and my mouth falls open, she grins triumphantly.
"You're a forty-five-year-old woman about to be a goddamn grandmother, yet you're still the little girl who walked into that dorm room and caught your boyfriend kissing me. You're still the little girl who ran out crying when Edward told you to go. And everything you're feeling now, all this shit you're hurling my way," she waves a hand as if she's pushing away garbage, "is because of that one moment. Because you're petty." When she tilts her head sideways, her long, straight strawberry-blond mane tilts like a waterfall with her. "You know, sometimes I wonder if you really even wanted Edward back when you bumped into him again, or if it was just your pettiness, your inane attempt to win at something I'd already won a long time ago."
When I start laughing, she looks about ready to jump me.
"Yes, Tanya; I am jealous. There's no point in denying it. I'm jealous, and yes, I hated you for a long, long time for what happened in that dorm room. But that is so in the past it's not even funny. No; over the past few years, you've given me epically heftier reasons to dislike the shit out of you, namely your apathetic treatment of Anthony."
"I'm a busy woman, Bella. Unlike you and your bullshit company, I have a real job, a real career, and when I don't have time, I don't have time." She shrugs.
What starts out as a snort of disbelief turns into a humorless cackle. "And so you picked him up and set him down as if he was your rag doll."
"This has nothing to do with Anthony. You couldn't care less."
"This has everything to do with Anthony because I love that boy with all my heart." I stop myself before I tell her things she has no fucking right to ever know. "What's more, if you're still thinking about that dorm room, and wondering about Edward's and my relationship, I think you're the one who's still stuck there."
"Fuck you, Bella," she spits. "If I would've wanted Edward, we'd still be together."
"I may be petty and self-righteous, but you're delusional if you really believe that for a second. No, what I'm jealous of is what you're trying to claim from my kids without deserving it, but more than that, I'm furious that you would think for a moment they could be bought. Edward and I raised them better than that. So you know what, Tanya? Throw them lavish parties," I shrug, waving my hands wildly. "Keep giving them your brand of advice; buy them gifts galore. Hopefully, someday, you'll learn to progress from there. Either way, when push comes to shove, they may stumble as we all do, but in the end, their principles will guide them. Now, my time is precious, so I'd like you to leave."
"Isabella Swan, you're going to regret this," she says before she turns on her stilettoes, and click-clacks out of my kitchen.
"I don't think I will!" I call after her. "And by the way, it's Isabella Masen!"
When I hear the door slam shut, my legs give. I sit down heavily on the stool I'd originally cleaned off for Tanya. Then, I stare off into space.
At some point, the door opens again, and Edward calls out to me. There's a lightness, a joy in his voice that for a few moments, makes me forget what just happened.
He's grinning from ear to ear, Sammy on his shoulders as he rushes into the kitchen.
"Babe, you haven't been checking your phone. Did you see Alice and Jasper's texts?"
"No," I say weakly, but I'm smiling because his grin says it all. When I start crying, he pulls me into his arms.
"Aunt BB sad?" Sammy asks.
"Aunt BB's fine," Edward replies for me. "It's okay, Bella," he coos, stroking my hair with one hand while he holds on to Sammy with the other. "It's all okay now."
And it is…mostly.
A/N: Thoughts?
Like I said, we're almost done.
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