UPDATE: Just added a bit about the wolves attending the funeral, seeing as how I forgot about them completely the first time around :-).
Yayzers! New chapter! Thanks to TheSingingGirl! (I have to get all the exclamation points out of my system now, because this story is so depressing I don't get the chance to use any in there :-(.
Anyway, here's the good news: we're FINALLY at the funeral! Wow, it's been a long, drawn-out while :-). Esme POV.
Also, the winner of the review contest is: *drum roll* thesharminator! Yay! Because her review made me laugh, short though it was.
Renesmee was an antidote to the grief.
It had been that way with her since before she was born, ever since it had seemed like the whole world was going to come crashing down around our feet after the magical wedding of her parents.
When we were all drowning in pain, she had been the way I kept my head above water. Of course, back then, she had been an assumed boy, and then she had been an even greater comfort; she would have been a welcome memory of my own little boy from so long ago.
Then during the three feverish, agonizing days before the funeral, she had been the only thing keeping me from choking on the loss of my daughter and the agony of my son.
Every time I looked upon her – the perfect shape of her face, the gorgeous color of her eyes, the perfect tint of her curls – I was comforted, my all-encompassing love for this child overwhelming my grief, if only for a few moments.
Even Carlisle had not given me as much comfort as dear Renesmee – his blank stares and hollow eyes had not comforted so much as worsened what I was feeling; though he had tried to stay strong for me, for Edward, for everyone, even a child could see through his carefully constructed façade. Sometimes I worried that poor little Renesmee would grow up knowing nothing but pain and loss and mourning.
And when even the sight of Renesmee's perfect face - nestled into my shoulder in sleep, or laughing delightedly despite the moody atmosphere around her – did not comfort me, I had only to think of her name, and elation would course through me in such a strong surge that I could not keep a smile off my face. Renesmee. She was named after me. Bella had named her daughter after me! The pride I felt at that, the love I felt towards Bella for doing that, for choosing me as Renesmee's namesake, was such that it could lift me clear out of the depressed circumstances for a few blissful moments of happiness.
Also, I shared the name with Bella's mother. Her birth mother. Was I wrong in assuming that that meant she had accepted me as her second mother? True, I was technically her mother-in-law, but it had to mean something that she put me in the same position as her own, flesh-and-blood mother.
And now, as we watched the greater Forks community file into the church, I held her in my arms and she cooed and gurgled as any baby would, and my face relaxed and I was soothed.
We watched Charlie file in, somber in his black suit, dragging his feet as a man twice his age would, and he glanced around the nearly-full church. He caught sight of us and looked angry for a moment with desperate ire before his face smoothed out and he walked over to us. Up close you could see that really, his expression was not smooth, it was livid as he shot daggers at Edward, with his bloodshot eyes, and underneath that the puffy purple bags protruded painfully and his grief was inscribed in every inch of his desolate face. His whole face was more bereaved and lined than I had ever seen it before; this last month had aged him ten long years, and my silent heart ached for him.
Charlie ignored Edward almost completely, meeting eyes very briefly and nodding infinitesimally before turning to Carlisle and shaking hands. I bristled – couldn't he see that Edward was suffering just as much as himself? How dare he shun a comrade who understood?
On the other side of the church, as far from our family as the small space would allow, were the wolves. I knew only three by name - Sam, Seth, and Jacob - though the rest of the pack And Emily Young, Sam's fiancee, was there as well, obviously supporting Jacob. He stood beside his father, face creased in grief, and I felt even worse than I had before knowing that soon, probably in just a few hours, Jacob would be forced into committing murder.
Needless to say, I did not agree with forcing him to kill Edward. I did not agree with Edward's impending death either, of course, though I understood as much as it was possible that it was necessary. However, the unnecessary pain that would be forced upon Jacob could be prevented - and he was only sixteen! It would be so much easier for Edward to locate passing nomads who would most likely be more than willing to murder him than to force Jacob into a deal he obviously regretted having made.
People were still filtering in; the church was full to bursting now – so many people were in mourning. The funeral for my first child, my baby boy, had been near enough solitary – just me, the priest, and two other widows who insisted on "supporting" me. Little did they know that I would be committing suicide just a few moments after the funeral was over. I shuddered delicately, thinking of Edward.
Renee and Phil came in, Renee's eyes tearful already – had she stopped crying once since she had received the news? We had become such good friends during the planning of the wedding. She came over to us, hugged Charlie, Carlisle, Edward – at least she seemed to harbor no ill feelings toward my poor son – and finally turned to me. She caught sight of Renesmee in my arms, and her eyes filled with tears again – remembering Bella as a baby? Or was she just thinking of new life in general, so ironic at a funeral? "Your child?" she mouthed, and I nodded, passed the baby to Carlisle, and took Renee into my arms, squeezing gently.
She put her head on my shoulder and let out a heaving sob. "It's alright," I murmured, patting her back. It was such a blatant lie that it would have been laughable if the atmosphere were not so bleak.
The family got settled. I sat next to Carlisle on one side and Renee on the other; Charlie sat on Renee's other side, with Phil next to him. Rosalie took Renesmee on her lap, sitting with her siblings across the aisle. Edward was as far from the pair as he could be.
The funeral started with a simple hymn, the only singer being the pianist; the rest of the congregation joined in unenthusiastically, though I can hear Edward above all the others.
The pastor, Mr. Weber, begins when the song is over. "Dearly beloved, we gather here today to mourn the passing of a beloved daughter, friend, and wife: Isabella Swan. She saw only eighteen, but still her life touched and bettered the lives of so many grieving here today. If you would all bow your heads in prayer-" he paused as the congregation complies. "Dear Lord, we offer you today the soul of Isabella Swan. We ask and pray that you accept her as one of your own children and show her that rue paradise that is unknowable to us on Earth…"
The prayer was a lengthy one, and I could see some of the humans shifting around uncomfortably as it went on. Edward moved not at all, head bowed over clasped hands, the portrait of a wretched man. Finally, Mr. Weber said, "And now we invite some of Bella's family and selected friends to come and share their thoughts on dear Bella's pure, too-short life."
There was silence in the church for a moment before Angela Weber, the pastor's teenage daughter, stood up. Her black dress shimmered as it fell in folds around her slim body, and her eyes were already filling with tears.
"I want to start with an idea I got from the book Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin," she began thickly, struggling to keep the tears from overflowing. "And as Bella was a fellow lover of books, I hope she understands.
"In the book, the main character is able to watch her own funeral, and she doesn't like what she hears – or, for that matter, doesn't hear. So Bella, if you're watching this now, please know that we all miss you more than is bearable, and if this is not to your liking, that we all apologize.
"Bella was my best friend. I only knew her for a year and a half, but she was nice, friendly, understanding – everything I strived to be. When she first came to Forks, I was amazed at how independent she was. She refused to accept anybody's help at finding her way around, without offending anyone in the process, and I admired her for that." Angela laughed fondly, though still melancholy.
"The summer passed, and the fall began. Our friendship only deepend, though it did go over a rough spot…" she broke off, and her eyes flickered to Edward, though so quickly that most of the humans must have missed it. Surprisingly, the look doesn't seem angry, only sad. "And then we were graduating!" Angela continues, "and she says to me, 'Angela, I have good news! Edward and I are getting married!' I was stunned Married at eighteen? But any fool could see how perfect she and Edward were together, and then I thought, 'If Ben had proposed to you, would you have said no?" And I wouldn't have."
I glanced at Ben. He's beaming. He's a good kid, according to Edward.
"So I accepted it, perhaps better than others-" Angela didn't spare a glance to Ben, but I could have sworn her eyes flickered to Jessica Stanley at the words better than others. "And I supported her. She went away on her honeymoon, and then I hear from Chief Swan that she's sick. Then I get the call, 'She's dead.' And the grief in that moment is so overwhelming..." She broke off, drew a deep breath, and continued. "But then I thought of Bella, how strong and independent she always was, and I thought, 'I will be like Bella. I will get through this.' And I did.
"To conclude, Bella, I love you. I love that you got married, whatever anyone else thought. I love that you love Edward as much as you do – I use the present tense because I know you still do, wherever you are; your bond was not one to be broken by death - I love how strong you are. And I will never forget you, my best friend in high school. I love you."
There was a reverent silence for a moment, and then Angela continued, "I would like to make an announcement. After the service I will be taking a collection to donate to a campaign dedicated to the research of rare diseases like the one Bella contracted. If you would like to donate, please help us ensure that this tragedy never happens again. Thank you. And Bella, if you're watching this, I miss you so much."
In that moment, I felt so much love for Angela that Jasper sent me a sharp glance, but I didn't care. I hadn't realized that she had been such close friends with Bella, but it didn't matter. I didn't need to be Edward to realize how pure of mind she was. I made a mental note to donate to her cause twice, even if it hadn't been Bella's true cause of death – a reasonable sum now, and then later a large amount anonymously, not through Angela.
More eulogies followed, interspersed by songs. Carlisle went, and my heart broke a little further as he shared our joint feelings on our third daughter, followed by Alice, who seemed so strange and vulnerable, grieving as she was. She described her joy at her best friend becoming her sister-in-law with such tender remembrance that everyone in the church – excepting us Cullens, of course – were in tears by the end. Renee and Charlie both gave heart-wrenching speeches, both with a similar theme of what if- what if they hadn't gotten divorced, could they have spent more time with their Bella? Would she have been happier if their marriage had worked out? Jasper's was heartbreaking in a very different way, more subtle, recalling Bella's intelligence, her innate empathy and sympathy for anyone, no matter who they were. Mike Newton went next to last, and he considered himself "Bella's best guy friend at school." I knew for a fact that this was a lie as Edward had once talked to me about how the only humans who sat with Bella, him and Alice at lunch were Ben and Angela, and how he felt guilty for taking Bella from those who could have been her friends. I felt a hot slice of anger toward Mike for lying, when no one would ever know, as he described his and Bella's close rapport. I could understand some of Edward's animosity now for this aggravating boy.
Finally, it was Edward's turn. He rose from his chair, and his face was unreadable, but Jasper stiffened as he passed. I didn't want to know how hard this whole funeral was for him, poor thing. I patted his arm encouragingly as he passed, and he sent me a brief, hollow smile. He walked slowly, dreading his final goodbye, but he could not delay forever.
Eventually, he reached the podium and began to speak.
Review contest is still on! Reviews do not carry from one chapter to the next, haha :-).
Also, the "You're Never Too Young To Write" contest. TheSingingGirl has been nominated! Go to Cyartia's profile to find out the rules. Voting starts on the first of May.
The whole next chapter is Edward's eulogy. There's not gonna be any narrative at all, just to warn you. (That was TheSingingGirl's awesome idea, so kudos to her.)
Review! Goal: to get to 90! That's 20! (Hopefully I actually did my math right this time :-)).