[Disclaimer] Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight. I own the plot for this story.

[A/N] A big thank you goes out to those of you who keep reading the story and took the time to leave me a review. I love getting feedback from my readers. You are what keeps me motivated.

I wanted to let you know that I started another Bellice story. It's called "The Monster" – If you haven't read it yet, you are welcome to check it out.

*Bitterness imprisons life, love releases it*

(Harry Emerson Fosdick)

Chapter 10

She lost weight. After one week in the retirement home, Nana's cheekbones are more prominent. Her eyes are glassy. This place isn't doing well with her. I open the window and spray some cherry-blossom air freshener around to cover the stench of disinfectants.

"Is it past seven yet?" Nana asks me. "My husband should be home by that time."

I stroke her short hair and pet her shoulder. "I know, Nana. Do you want to take a little walk outside?"

Fresh air is good for her. I get Nana's jacket and an extra blanket that I place carefully on her lap. Then I push the wheel chair out. The retirement home has one of those stair lift things. It looks easier to use than it actually is.

"Press the handle down and then pull on the string underneath it."

I do as the man with the ponytail tells me and mumble a thank you. I recognize him as the drinking buddy of Bella's father. "I am Billy Black,"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Black." I tell him, adjusting the wheel chair of my grandmother's in the lift thing. "Sit still."

I rush down the stairs to be there when the lift reaches the first floor. She looks bored as I push the chair outside a few minutes later. "Isn't it nice today, Nana? The sun is shining."

"We should have salmon for dinner, but Henry doesn't like fish."

"Fish is healthy," I tell her, pushing the chair through the little garden around the home. "Can we have rice with it?" It feels strange to talk to her like this. It gives me the illusion of having an actual conversation with her.

"Brown rice and carrots." She says. "I can also make some chicken for Henry, so he can have that instead of the salmon."

"Good idea," I whisper. Then I sit down on a bench, pulling the wheel chair next to it. "What do we want to have for dessert?"

"Vanilla pudding." She mumbles, turning her wedding band around on her finger. "It's not past seven yet, is it? My husband must be home by that time. He knows I hate it when we eat dinner so late. It's not good for the girls."

I cross my legs and close my eyes, leaning back against the back of the bench. "The sun is nice, isn't it?"

"You are going to get dark and ugly if you stay out here for too long." Nana warns me. "You wouldn't be very happy with that."

I run my fingers through my curls and shake my head. "Sun is good. I like summer. We always went swimming when I was little. Do you remember?"

Of course she doesn't remember. She doesn't remember how she used to braid my hair. How she told me bedtime stories. The woman who helped my parents raise me doesn't remember anything about me. She doesn't remember anything about her life, except fragments of memories.

"Men always keep me waiting." Nana complains. "I can't stand that."

I reach for her hand and take it between mine. "I don't like it either."

She plays with her wedding band, taking it off and slipping it back on her finger over and over again. "I am tired of waiting."

I get up and kiss her forehead. "I understand. Do you want to lie down a bit before dinner?"

There is no response. Instead she lowers her head and begins to breathe heavily. The new meds she is taking are crap. They make her too tired. I don't want her to spend the remaining time of her life in bed.

I bring her upstairs again, fighting for several minutes with the stupid lift. Why can't they give the people who aren't good on their feet a room downstairs? By the time we reach Nana's room, she is fast asleep. My back hurts after I manage to get her out of the chair and back into the bed. At least the room smells better now. They should open the windows more often here.

I sit down at the edge of her bed and wait. I didn't plan on leaving again so soon. On the nightstand is her small jewelry case. There isn't anything in it someone would find precious enough to steal it. She has some brooches in the shape of butterflies. I lift one of them up, making the light shine through the red glass in its wings. Pretty, I think, putting it back inside the jewel case. A plain metal ring, rusty and darkened catches my attention. I try to put it on my ring finger. It's too big. Nana's hands are bigger than mine.

There is an inscription inside the ring. Why would anyone get a cheap ring like that get engraved? I am not good with jewelry but I am sure it's not even real silver. It's steel.

La mia felicita

I don't recall enough of my Spanish classes back from school to translate the words. After trying to see whether the ring fits on my thumb, I put it back inside the box and store it in her nightstand.

"Henry! Oh God, Henry, wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Please!"

Tears pour down Nana's face. I can't recall many occasions when I have seen her cry. She didn't even cry when she cut onions, claiming that she got used to their sharp scent over time.

I shake her awake and pull her against my chest. "He's dead." She whispers, sounding exhausted. "What am I to do now? I lost everything."

She cries and cries. Her sobbing gets louder and more hysterical. I can't manage to calm her down, no matter how hard I try. Eventually, I give up and press the call button behind the bed. A minute later, a nurse rushes in. She takes a quick look at my grandmother. Then she rushes out to return shortly with a glass of water and some little yellow pills. "Take these, Mrs. Denali." She demands. "Open your mouth."

Nana shakes her head. In the end, the nurse forces her mouth open by holding her chin and pressing two fingers against her cheeks. I can't watch this. With tears in my eyes, I stumble outside the room and downstairs. This is too awful.

I sit down on the first stair and bury my face in my hands. I feel bad now for calling the nurse. More medication is the last thing my grandmother needs. It's worse enough that she's mentally so low, ruining the bit of her health that is left makes everything worse.

Nana Di is the only grandparent I have left. The thought of losing her is too painful. I wipe my face, trying not to smear my mascara more than I probably already have. Tanya always insists I should get the waterproof one.

"Are you alright?" someone asks me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and force my mouth into a smile like grimace. "Mrs. James, right?"

"Mrs. James was my mother. You can call me Zafrina." She sits down next to me on the stairs and opens her handbag. "Here, take a tissue."

I mumble a thank you and blow my nose. "Are you here to visit your husband? How's he doing?"

Zafrina exhales deeply. "It is getting better. I am impatient. I know he's trying so hard but it's always baby steps, you know?"

At least he has a chance of getting better, I think. "I hope he feels much better soon."

"Thank you. I overheard the nurse's discussion with your grandmother. She has Alzheimer, right? That must be very hard for you and the rest of your family."

I nod.

"The stairs are not meant for sitting," the nurse snaps at us. "Visitation hours are over anyway."

I swallow back a comment. I am sure if I'm nasty to this awful woman she's going to take that out on my poor Nana later. It's not something I want to risk. This is why I didn't want her to come live here. It's a place full of strangers that don't love her. Here she is just a number, just another patient who needs to be fed, washed and so on.

"Excuse me, Miss…" Zafrina reads the name tag on the nurse's green cardigan. "Miss Young. Miss Young, you are new here that is why I am going to give you a warning before you get thrown out of here."

The nurse's face turns pink. She has ugly acne scars on her nose and cheeks that she tried to cover up with a thick layer of foundation. "My boss won't fire me, just because you complain." She states. "We are poorly staffed here."

Zafrina laughs. She stands up and whispers something into the nurse's ear. Whatever it is, is followed by prattle of apologies. The nurse turns from unfriendly to overly polite, even promising to call or text me when my grandmother's condition gets worse.

Bella's eye looks worse than a week ago. The swelling is less prominent, but the black eye has turned into an ugly yellow green that goes down to her nose and half of her cheek.

"I know," she whispers when I pick her up in front of her apartment. "I look like shit. I even tried to put make-up on it, but it made my skin itch. So, I washed it off again."

She puts her seatbelt on. I lean over and carefully cup the unharmed side of her face in my hand. My thumb rubs gently over her cheekbone. "It's going to heal soon."

I drive her to the hospital to have Dad check her over again. On our way there, anger begins to boil in the pit of my stomach. The thought of someone having harmed my Bambi Eyes physically makes me mad.

My Bambi Eyes, I think, the thought makes me feel warm and protective of her.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks me. "You are smiling."

"Nothing," I whisper. "We are already here. Does your eye still hurt?"

Bella shakes her head. "It looks worse than it is." I don't believe her. She is trying to down play her injury.

"What did you tell them at work about how you got the black eye?" I ask. My fingers reach for the key in the ignition to turn off the engine.

We get out of the car and walk towards the main entrance of the hospital. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jacket. It makes me look stupid, but easier for me to resist holding Bella's hand.

"I fell."

"You fell against some asshole's fist." I mumble. "Didn't you?"

She exhales slowly through her teeth. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I won't let that piece of shit who hurt her have the chance to repeat it. "I am just concerned because I care."

The corners of her mouth twitch. Her smile is small but beautiful. It lights up her entire face and makes me feel warm deep inside of me.

"He didn't mean it." Bella tells me. "He didn't mean to hurt me. He was drunk."

I put two and two together. "Your father did that to you? Why?"

"I poured his supply of alcohol down the toilet. He rolled into the bathroom and caught me doing it. One bad word leaded to another. I yelled. He hit me. Then I ran out."

My hand glides out of my jacket and reaches for hers. "I am sorry. Thank you for telling me."

Dad isn't in his office when we knock on his door. His secretary lets me know they brought in a car accident an hour ago and he's been called into surgery.

She's a darling though and pages one of the interns to have Bella's eye been checked. The cut is healing well. I am not an expert, but I doubt it's going to leave a big scar.

"He never was aggressive before," Bella tells me on our way down to the second floor to look for the doctor. "He was fun and laid back. His accident changed him. Being a cop was his life."

She clasps her hands together. "I don't know what to do. I tried suggesting therapy for him, but Charlie says that is for pussies." Bella sighs. "I don't have money to pay a shrink either. In the end it all comes down to fucking money."

I knock on the office with the room number Dad's secretary scrawled down on a post-it note.

A moment later, the door is opened, and I am met by a wave of perfume that is too sweet. It's followed by a brunette curly-head woman. Her usually perfect make-up is smeared a bit.

"Hi Jess," I greet her. "How's it going?"

My question is followed by my brother's ex bursting into tears. Jessica wraps her arms around me and sobs.

A young blond doctor who looks like he just finished High School a month ago walks out. "Miss Stanley, you forgot your handbag and your vitamins." He smiles and points for Bella to follow him inside the office. "Miss Swan, right? It's nice to meet you. My name is Dr. Newton, and I will be taking care of you today."

His ears turn red when she follows him inside the office. What an idiot. He's a doctor. She's just a patient. This reaction is completely unprofessional.

"Dr. Newton is nice," Jessica murmurs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Don't you think?"

I manage to read the word prenatal on it before Jess shoves the package into her leather handbag.

"You are pregnant?"

She makes a hushing sound and presses her finger against my mouth to silence me. "Yes," she whispers. "I am. Dr. Newton just confirmed the test I took at home."

We sit down on some plastic chairs in front of the office. "Congratulations." I whisper, unsure if it's alright to congratulate her on the pregnancy. Jessica doesn't seem very happy. Maybe she's just emotional because pregnant woman are like that.

"I need to tell Edward." She says. "He's not going to be happy."

My brother is a moron. But even he must understand that it takes two people to make a baby. Jessica asks me to call him for her because he always hangs up when he sees her number on his phone.

At least he doesn't seem drunk when I call. I make up an excuse about needing him to come to the hospital to pick me up because my engine won't start.

It's a twenty minute drive from our house to the hospital but since Edward doesn't stick to the rules of speed limits, he makes it here in ten. Bella is still in the office with Dr. Newton. How long does it take to remove the stitches? He better not try to make a move on my Bambi Eyes. She is mine. Well, she's not really mine, but still…

"Alice?" Edward's voice sounds annoyed. "Why do I have to come up here to get you? I have—,"

"Hi Eddie." Jessica interrupts him. She looks pale now. I hope she's not going to blow. Pregnant women tend to throw-up a lot in the first months of the pregnancy, right?

Bella walks out of the office. She's holding a small plastic bag against her temple. "I am done. Can we go?"

"Good bye, Miss Swan." Dr. Newton calls after her. I hate the way his stupid face is glowing crimson as he waves his hand and closes the door behind him.

"Just a moment." I whisper. Then I introduce Bella to my brother and Jessica. He takes her hand, maybe a split-second too long. All the time he very much ignores his ex. It hurt his manly pride that she broke up with him.

"Eddie," Jess whispers. "Can we talk?"

My brother snaps at me. "You lied to me to get me to talk to the stupid bitch again? You are so fucking stupid, Alice."

"You are rude." Bella says. She steps in front of me. "You shouldn't talk to your sister like that."

Jessica crosses her arms in front of her chest. Her boobs seem bigger somehow. Maybe it's the shirt she's wearing. "Eddie is always rude to everyone. That's one of the many reasons why I dumped him."

My brother glares at me full of hatred. He's slow, but now he's getting that I didn't call him to come here to look at my car. "Why the fuck did you call me, Alice? You know I don't talk to the stupid bitch anymore."

I push him against his chest. "She has something to tell you. It's something concerning both of you."

For the first time since he walked in, he looks directly at Jessica. "Why so pale today, Babe? Run out of blush?"

Jessica's eyes turn smaller. She spits the next words out at him full of anger. "If I am pale, that's your fault, Edward."

She fumbles in her handbag, cursing under her breath. Finally, she pulls out an ultrasonic picture and holds it up under my brother's nose. "We are having a baby, asshole."

He steps back. It's like he's afraid that the small picture could burn him if he accidentally touched it. "That is your problem. Not mine."

I lose my patience. How is this not his problem? My brother is a jerk. How can he be like that? Mom raised him better than that.

"It's our baby." Jessica states. "We have to work something out. Whether you want to or not."

Edward takes another step backwards. "I don't want anything to do with this thing. How can I know it's even mine? Could be from any other Nigger you fucked around with."

Jess smacks her hand across his face. "I hate you." She spits. "I wish the child was anyone else's. Anyone would make a better Dad than you."