Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight…

Chapter 10: A world of gray with a touch of green…

One thing that's awful about being your own is you don't have anyone to pick you up off the floor when you've received the most devastating news of your life.

Once I calmed down enough I called Rose. She and Emmett came over immediately and helped me pack a bag. I went home with them since Rose was worried about me being alone and when I tried to protest she said "family has to stick together". I don't know what I would've done without them.

I talked to Vanessa every few hours. I was trying to be strong for her, but felt like I was more of a burden and that made me feel guilty. She was so devastated, as was I, but she lost the love of her life. My pain didn't seem comparable to what she was going through.

On the third day at Rose's, Vanessa called me with the information for Jake's funeral arrangements and to let me know the details of Jake's death.

Jake and his platoon had been patrolling after the worse of the fighting. They set up a checkpoint and had been up for days. They went to get something to eat when a man threw a grenade at them. In true form, Jacob threw his body on top of it to save the lives of the other men near him. The incident only took a moment to happen and when it was over, Jake was dead.

Vanessa told me Jacob's body was going to be flown in February 7th and the burial was going to be the next day at our family plot.

This time I wasn't going to stay in the background. I was angry, upset and the loss of Jake was almost too much for me. Jake had been my best friend, my champion, my savior and my last family member. Both he and Vanessa had been there for me during the darkest time of my life. I wasn't looking forward to seeing my parents or anyone else from my past life, but I would be there for Vanessa with my head held high.

I would be there for her and say goodbye to Jake. I would brave the gossips and my parents in my former hometown.

When it was time to go to New York, Emmett and Rose drove me to the airport. During the flight I had a lot of time to think. I thought about Jake and times in our lives growing up and playing as kids; how he was always there for me no matter what. The thought of being in a world without him made me depressed, angry, alone, furious.

The gamut of emotions was almost too much at times. Jake had been my first confidant, the only one in my family to stick with me when my marriage was destroyed. He was there for me when I had to leave the only place I'd ever called home. Then I thought about him being there to see how I made a life for myself; he saw me become a strong woman; he celebrated my accomplishments. I had never felt so unhinged in all my twenty-three years.

The morning of February 8, 1968 I landed in New York City and grabbed a cab to the family gravesite in Queens. I had been to Queens three times in my life and each of those times was for funerals.

The cab arrived at the gravesite at 9:30, just in time for the service. Vanessa had made the decision to only have the burial. Jake's body wasn't suitable for a public visitation so a wake didn't seem like a good idea. She told me the thought of being in a room with people for hours was too much for her to handle.

Vanessa was in the front row with her parents, Mother, Father and Mary. Turning around, she gasped when she saw me. Looking to see who caught her attention, my family turned around and stared at me. She moved away from them and walked to over to me. I caught sight of her middle and smiled for the first time in over a week. "You're pregnant," I cried when she hugged me.

"Last leave he had in Hawaii," Vanessa said, hugging me tight. "We were waiting until you came to visit in the Spring to tell you. He wanted to surprise you."

"Oh how wonderful," I replied, smiling through my tears. It was a wonderful surprise in the midst of despair. It warmed my heart to know there would be a part of Jake that lived on.

"Come sit with us," she pleaded, "He loved you so much."

"I don't want to cause a scene," I replied, thinking with everything Vanessa had been through, an ugly confrontation might cause a miscarriage.

"Don't worry, they might surprise you," she replied dryly, grabbing my hand.

I could feel eyes on me as we walked to the family pews. Ignoring the looks from my former friends, I walked with Vanessa, wearing my one winter coat that I had brought from New York with me to San Francisco. It was grey wool and several years old. The coat covered my only black dress. I could only imagine what was going through the gossips' mind as I settled down.

Mary looked at me like I was a stranger; my parents were staring me like I was a figment of their imagination, But I didn't care; for my brother I would sit with his wife. And for my brother, I will tell the child in his wife's womb every wonderful thing about the dad they'll never meet.

Rev. Morrison, the man who had tried to convince me to come home after I left James, presided over the ceremony. I tuned out most of it when he started saying God had a plan. The thought that God had a plan for killing my brother and leaving his child fatherless made me furious. For a moment I was so damn furious that I nearly started screaming again.

I was mad at the Viet Cong, the government, myself, everyone. I was furious with myself for not speaking out against this war when I knew in my heart of hearts that I didn't believe in it, but I didn't want any of our soldiers to think that I was against them.

Maybe if more people had spoken up, the president would have pulled the GI's out. The "what if's" played on a constant loop in my head.

While I attempted to calm myself, I focused on the casket, the flowers surrounding the altar, the feeling of Vanessa's hand in mine, while breathing deeply in and out. It was a technique Rose had taught me when I first moved to San Francisco to ward off panic attacks.

Jacob was buried with full military honors. The rifle volley was like a stab in my heart; as TAPS played, I couldn't contain my tears any longer and Vanessa and I clung to each other a little harder.

The honor guard came to our family to salute Vanessa and my parents. I had been so focused on the casket that I nearly missed it when one of them gave Vanessa the folded American flag.

He was young, tall, with green eyes. I couldn't tell the color of his hair since his cap was on, but there was something familiar about him. Like we had met before.

"My deepest sorrow for your loss ma'am," he said saluting Vanessa one more time, nodding at us. He paused to briefly look at the rest of us and said,

"Again my condolences." His voice was velvety, like a reprieve from the chaos we were in.

I watched as he turned and returned to the other soldiers. The service complete.

"You're coming to the wake?" Vanessa asked as we started to get up.

"Of course," I told her. "Give me the address and I will grab a cab."

She started to reply when my mother spoke up. "Isabella, that's not necessary," Renee said, "You can ride with us."

"I'm not here to cause problems," I answered quietly. "A cab is fine."

"And not necessary," my father repeating my mother's words. Then he did something I had never seen him do before. Charles took hold of my arm and pulled me towards him. At first, the movement frightened me because I thought he was going to hit me, but he pulled me to his chest, hugging me tightly like he would never let me go. I barely got my arms around him before he let out a howl and fell apart in my arms.

It scared the hell out of me since Father had never been affectionate with me. Everyone stopped to look at us, including the young GI with the green eyes.

"Please don't leave," he whispered.

"I'll ride with you." I replied quietly, knowing he was asking for more than me accompanying them to a wake.

He released me from his embrace but held onto my arm. My mother took my other arm. Everyone looked at us in shock and I couldn't blame them. We had never been a demonstrative family and most of the people here hadn't seen me in years; last they heard I was disowned.

Mary looked at us in disbelief, probably recalling I was disowned. She had yet to say a word to me. I was guessing her finance was the tall thin man with black hair who kept glaring at me. He looked familiar and I realized that I knew him from my days as James' wife. Felix Whitman had just been hired when I had left James. We had met at the firm's Christmas party that year. James thought that Felix was a waste of time; "a moronic upstart" if I recalled correctly.

Now that moronic upstart was going to be my brother-in-law. Wonderful, nothing like having a grade A prick married my sister.

At the foot of the hill, my parents' limo was waiting for us. The driver opened the door and we got in with me in between my parents. They were gripping my hands like they were afraid I would disappear.

As the hills of Queens passed us in silence, my mother finally spoke, "Where are you staying Isabella?"

"The YWCA in Manhattan," I told her. "It was the best I could do on short notice."

"That's not necessary. You can come home. Your room is just like you left it."

"I'll think about it," I answered, feeling uncomfortable.

Mary just shook her head and muttered the first words she said since I arrived here, "Unbelievable." She obviously didn't want me around. Her fiancé patted her hand as if he was warding off my bad karma.

The rest of the limo ride was quiet, each of us lost in our thoughts. Thankfully my parents didn't try to make conversation with me again. I was on edge and didn't feel like making idle chit chat.

My parents had arranged for a reception to be held at their club. As the limo came to a stop, my mother looked at me again and said, "Isabella, please consider staying with us. It has been so long since we've been together."

And whose fault was that, I thought myself. I nearly spoke it out loud when I took a better look at both my parents.

At 58, my father had always been a hearty man but looking at him more closely I realized he looked closer 80 with his deep set wrinkles, greying hair and slouched posture. My mother had this haunted look on her face and I could tell she's lost weight.

These were not the proud, hard people that I had left in New York, My father looked nothing like the man who had visited me after my divorce to make me reconcile with James. These were people who had lost everything. They had that appearance of seeing unfathomable pain. Those films I had seen of the Holocaust came to mind.

Logically, I knew I should tell them to go to hell given what they put me through, but I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it because these people were broken and the cruelty of kicking someone when they're down was not something I would ever do.

Swallowing my pride, I nodded at my mother. "If it's not too much of an inconvenience, thank you, that would be nice," I replied.

"Thank you," my father said hugging me again tightly and then stepped out of the car. He helped my mother out. Felix followed and it was just me and my sister who was glaring at me.

"You should go back from where you came from Isabella," Mary snarled.

I paled at her vitriol. "Don't worry Mary. I need to be back at school soon. I'm not here to upset anyone," I told her calmly, hoping this hatred was because of the loss of Jake, but I was doubting that was it; she was too cruel, too calculating. This went beyond the pain of losing a loved one.

"If you are not trying to upset anyone why are you here? Don't you get it Isabella? You're a disgrace to the family," she snapped.

"I'm here because Jake wanted me here," I snapped right back, having had enough of her bratty attitude.

For a moment I had a flashback of when we were children and Jake and I would play tea party with her. She had been such a bright and happy child; always insisting that we dress up for her parties. She would even go as far as laying our clothing out for us. My eyes filled up with tears as I thought of that moment in time that would never be again.

"Well Vanessa –"

"Vanessa wanted me here too. She was the one who called me," I interrupted. "Get your shit together, she's pregnant and she needs our support not this

crap!"

Mary paled this time with the swear word. Not waiting for her response or counting on my patience towards her abhorrent behavior, I got out of the car before I said anything else.

~~~~~~~~AMW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: Special thanks to LSU15 for her beta skills!

So yes – that was Edward. And yes Bella was overly nice to her parents given what they did to her. And yes, her sister is a piece of work. No, this isn't the end of it either.

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read/review/favorite/follow this story!