Chapter 14

Rosalie could not keep her smile to herself as she watched the wonder spreading across Bella's face. The mall was bustling and loud—there were people everywhere, milling about with bags loaded to the brim with newly purchased items. There were children with their parents—some screaming and some following quietly along—and couples walking hand in hand. There were clothing stores and game stores, toy stores and shoe stores—any kind of store Bella's little heart could dream up, it was here. The Westfield Southcenter Mall was certainly not where Alice had intended them to go—she had been pining after the high-end boutiques nearer the downtown core—but a stern warning from Esme had deterred them to a more modest, though no less expansive, shopping experience.

"She needs necessities, Alice, not extravagance. And for goodness' sake, she's six years old. There's no need to buy her a Gucci bag."

And so, though her sister was less than pleased, she had compromised and settled on one of the larger malls in Seattle, knowing that at least here, Bella would be able to find whatever it was she needed.

And she needed a lot, thought Rose. Nothing had been removed from her father's house—it was still under investigation, after all—and the child had only two sets of clothes, and old pair of sneakers that Rose had salvaged from her father's backyard under the cover of darkness, and one set of fuzzy pajamas that Alice had had the foresight to pick up from the store on the day Bella had come home to them.

The poor child was growing sick of the clothes on her back, and Rosalie could hardly blame her.

"Is this in America?" she asked suddenly, her expression dubious. "I never saw anything so big before."

"Yes, honey," laughed Alice, scooping her up. The crowds were closing in and though they would be able to find her in a heartbeat, neither of them had any desire to lose her in the throngs of people. "This is still the same country. We're in Seattle."

"Oh."

"Have you never been to Seattle?" asked Alice, moving away from the doors and towards on of the nearest store. "It's not too far from Forks."

"No."

"I doubt she's ever left the town, Alice," said Rose quietly, but loud enough for Bella to hear.

"No," agreed Bella, her eyes raking over the neon storefronts. "This place is big."

"Pretty big," agreed Alice. "But that's good. We're going to find you some pretty new things."

"Like treasures?" she asked, her eyes aglow. Rosalie laughed—for days, Bella had been hoarding the glass gemstone Alice had presented her with when she'd first arrived like it was a priceless crown jewel. It held the place of honor on her nightstand and each morning she made sure to shine it with the dish towel Rose had helped her pilfer from the kitchen. Esme had been kind enough to pretend not to notice.

Rose did not understand any of it, but something about the whole process never failed to send her into fits of giggles. Carlisle found it amusing as well, but his wise, sage words on the subject had implied far more than he'd said aloud.

"She's never had anything to call her own before. Much less something pretty."

"What kinds of other things?" asked Bella, her arms wrapped loosely around Alice's neck. Something about it looked funny—Alice seemed too small to have this child balanced on her hip. Passersby watched the pair with curious, intrigued faces until Rosalie, not wanting to draw attention, took her back.

"Hey!" Alice pouted, and Bella raised a quizzical brow.

"Alice is strong enough," she reasoned, though she did not ask to be put down.

"I know she is, but she's getting stares," said Rosalie, kissing her nose. Rose loved the way she blushed when anyone showed her affection—it was terribly sad, but wholly endearing at the same time. "She looks funny carrying you, since she's such a little person…"

"Shut up," laughed Alice, though she did not disagree. "If you're going to hold on to her, then that means I can do the picking."

"I can walk on my own," offered Bella, seeming to sense an argument brewing. "I'm not a baby, you know."

"I do know," said Rose, ignoring her sister for the moment. "You're such a big girl, but it would be terrible to lose you in here."

One look around at all the strange and unfamiliar faces made Bella shudder—Rosalie felt it—and she nodded very seriously.

"I don't want to be lost," she said. "Then I would have to go home with a stranger."

"You never go home with strangers," said Rosalie at once, a sudden stab of fear piercing her. She supposed no one would have taught her about stranger danger—truth be told, Rosalie did not know if any kids still learned it… but this one would.

"Okay."

"If you ever get lost in the mall, you go right into the nearest store and tell a worker," she said. "Or a man like that."

She pointed at a mall cop, who was strolling through the crowds with disinterest.

Bella cocked her head, surveying.

"And he'll bring me home?"

"No," said Rose. "No, he'll find your grown up."

"Like you?"

"Like me," she confirmed. "But don't worry. Alice and I would likely find you long before anyone else did."

"That's good."

"If you're done with the life lesson," Alice was smirking, "then we can start here. Macy's is just down the way. She needs bedroom accessories and I'm sure they've got clothes."

"What's an accessory?" asked Bella.

"Pretty things!" said Alice quickly. "To make your new bedroom all your own."

Rosalie knew this was the girl's first time shopping—she might have been to a Walmart and perhaps some kind of local clothing company in Forks, but Rose was sure she had never been exposed to shopping in the way Alice liked to do it.

She knew that by the end of the day, she would have to rein her sister back in. Alice was not used to shopping with a human—much less a little one like Bella—and Rose suddenly began to calculate just how difficult it would be to convince Alice to take a break so the girl could eat.

Rose suddenly wondered if they shouldn't have waited another day for Esme so she could tag along as a buffer.

"Come on!" said Alice. "Time's a-wasting!"

Bella, catching Alice's contagious enthusiasm, wiggled her way free of Rose's arms and bounced after Alice as she danced through the department store entrance, humming The Wheels on the Bus.

Rose shook her head. She sometimes wondered if she would ever really understand her sister.

"But this one's blue…" Bella's voice was reverent. "And it's got dots."

"Yeah…" Alice was beginning to sound discouraged, but Rosalie, standing on the sidelines, watched the power struggle with ever-increasing amusement. It was rare for anyone in their family to stand up to Alice when it came to design or fashion choices—everyone, save perhaps Esme, was more than willing to let Alice butt in when she felt the need. To Rosalie, the struggle had never been worth it. Her sister had a great sense of style, a fact which obviously did not deter Bella's stubbornness, and Alice had yet to steer Rose wrong when it came to fashion.

But watching her face off with a six-year old in the bedding department of a Macy's was an entirely new spectacle.

Rose took out her phone and discretely began to film, knowing that it was instances such as this that could be used as fodder for blackmail sometime in the not-so-distant future. Her sister could be a pushy little thing, and sometimes, it was nice to have some insurance that she would not try and get her way.

"Look at this one," said Alice, pointing once again to a bright pink monstrosity that hurt Rosalie's eyes. The pink was almost blinding—somewhere between a neon poster board and a highlighter. It had glitter and sequins sewn throughout—something that should have delighted any six year old girl—but Bella stood, her face set in a determined frown, as she hugged the polka-dotted blue bed-in-a-bag to her chest.

"This one's got blue," she insisted, as if there could be no further argument. "And dots."

"Esme says let her pick," Rose chimed in, gleeful when Alice's face turned sour. "It's her room, Alice…"

"But this one is so pretty," she sighed, her eyes wide and sad as they lingered on Bella. This look was one that often worked on Jasper—no one else in the family had any use for it—and neither, it appeared, did Bella. In an uncharacteristic show of dominance, Bella raised her eyebrows in response, as if in challenge.

"What would you pair that with?" asked Alice, trying a new tactic. "You need more than just a comforter and some pillow shams. Look at these little cushions over here." She gestured to a lurid display of purple. "They would go wonderfully… I don't see anything to match those polka dots."

Bella, unfazed, peeked around the corner and bolted around. Rose could not see her, but she could hear her rummaging on a shelf. When she returned, Rose could not help but laugh at the look of utter dismay on Alice's pretty little face.

"Oh, honey…"

Bella had come back with two cushions—one a vivid, cartoonish lime green, and the other mustard yellow.

"Colours!" she squealed. Rose was regretting the treat they had allowed her on the ride down—when Alice had stopped at a gas station, she had returned with a candy bar. The girl had been hesitant at fist—Rose suspected that chocolate was not something she was used to with her father—but when Rose had opened the wrapper for her and handed it back, she had devoured it in less than ten minutes.

Now, watching her bounce, she knew the sugar had kicked in.

"Yeah, those certainly are colours…" said Alice. "But honey, those don't match."

"Why not?" she chirped, her eyes darting from cushions to bedding. "Blue," she pointed to the bag, "and yellow," she tossed the mustard cushion at the bag, "make green!" She threw the final pillow to the ground.

"Yeah…"

"Honey, why don't we find something else to go with your blue?" said Rose finally, taking mercy on Alice. Her sister was nearly speechless—there was a certain art to negotiating with a six-year-old, and Alice had yet to master it. Rose was rather enjoying it—it was nice to see Alice's stubborn willpower outdone by someone even littler than her—but she knew that if she did not step in, they would end up going home with such a lurid combination of bedding that she was sure Esme would never let them take Bella shopping for décor again.

Esme, a designer by trade, took her work seriously, and Rose knew it would irk her to no end if they made the child's bedroom into a monstrosity.

"More blue?" asked Bella, abandoning the ugly cushions. "I can have the blue bed?"

"If that's the one you want, sweetheart, then you can have it," she said. "Today's about you, after all."

Rose met Alice's grimace with a purposeful look of her own, ignoring the little pout on her sister's face.

"Blue it is," sighed Alice after a moment of silent contemplation. "I suppose I'll have to give in."

"Someone call the press," teased Rose, earning her a pointed glare. "You never give in."

"Well, I've never argued with someone as stubborn as little Missy," she returned, patting Bella on the hair. The blue bedding was thrown into the cart. "We're going to have a fun time of it when we start in on the clothes."

Rose was dreading it already.

In the end, however, Rose found that Bella did not care so much about the clothes as she did about the little knickknacks they picked up around the mall to decorate her space. Rose could not figure out why, but the child had fallen absolutely in love with the floating shelves Esme had mounted in the living room, and so a quick stop by a hardware store was made in due course. Rose had taken her into a quirky store full of glass baubles and trinkets, and had allowed her to pick out as many things as the shelves would hold. She chose a blue owl made of glass that was supposed to be a candleholder, a chunk of pink sea salt that would make Carlisle roll his eyes (he was never one for pop-up medical fads), a strange purple sphere that looked like it might have been shaped like a bird, and an ugly hipster mug with a face painted on it that could have been either a monkey or a cat—Rose could not be sure which. She found an LED candle that Rose knew would comfort her at night when her room was dark and an old-fashioned alarm clock with two silver bells on either side. She even—Rosalie could almost hear Emmett's laughter—found an amulet with a big blue eye painted on it, whose tag declared it would "ward off evil".

To Rosalie, the majority of her hoard was hideous. As she reached her little hand out to stroke the items on the shelves, Rose could only just stop herself from cringing. They were not the kinds of things she or Esme would have chosen, nor would Alice be caught with any of them around her room. But what Rose knew, and what she suspected her mother and sister would come to understand, was that it was not the value or aesthetic of the items that mattered. What mattered was that Bella had picked them out herself—these were the things, no matter how strange or ugly—that excited her. It was not the poor craftsmanship or the tacky, cartoonish face of that owl candleholder, nor was it the strange, almost abstract quality of the purple bird. It was the way her little face had lit up when she caught sight of them, and how she had held each one, ever so gently, in the palm of her hand. She had looked to Rose for guidance—watching her face with such intensity that Rose had almost felt uncomfortable—and so she had been careful to school her features into mild appreciation.

Rose knew, perhaps more than anyone else could, the importance of having a space that was all your own. She knew what it was like to feel stranded in a strange and unfamiliar place—to feel like you didn't belong and like nothing was truly yours.

Rosalie never wanted Bella to feel like that, and if this meant buying her a thousand ugly bird figurines, or countless funny coffee mugs, then so be it.

"Do you like them?" asked Rosalie, letting Bella hold the bag while Rosalie held her. She had the fancy organic tote—the only bags the store supplied—hanging from her cast, and she held it open with her good hand to peer inside. She seemed to be taking inventory—her eyes were bright and excited as she reviewed her goods—and she gave a solemn, but not unhappy nod in response.

"Yes," she said. "Thank you for the treasures."

"You're welcome," laughed Rosalie, snorting at her idea of treasures. The girl had never seen any kind of real treasure—one day, Rose would show her the jewelry she had amassed from Emmett over the years. The knew the child would love it—she seemed to have a penchant for shiny things—and she knew Emmett would get a kick out of it. Rose couldn't wait until they could show the real treasures their family had—Carlisle had an entire British estate filled with all kinds of valuable and historically significant artifacts from his old life across the pond, and about twenty or so years prior, he had purchased his wife an entire Brazilian island.

The house on Isle Esme, as far as Rose was concerned, was even nicer than the one they had in Forks, though whether this was because of the warmth and sun, or the house itself, Rose did not know.

She wondered if they would ever be able to take Bella there—such a trip could only be made if she knew something of their secret…

…if she liked shiny things, Rose wondered what she would think of her new family.

"Look, there's Alice," said Rose quietly, pointing as Alice came down a corridor, almost floating despite the armfuls of bags she carried with her. "It looks like she found you some clothes."

Bag after bag, parcel after parcel—Alice had gone completely overboard. Rose knew it would be a risk to leave her alone, but neither she nor Bella could stand one more minute of Alice's unflappable enthusiasm. Rose had sensed it when Bella had grown frustrated—there were only so many dresses, shirts, pants, and skirts the child could try on before she was liable to lose steam. Rose had scooped in just in time to avoid a meltdown—she had been sure it was in the cards. Alice had been trying to wheedle her into a little blue sundress, and Bella had been parked outside the change room, her eyes bright and arms folded.

Rose had been forced to remind Alice that she was only six.

The trinkets seemed to have calmed her down.

"I've got all kinds of lovely clothes for you," said Alice, pressing a kiss to Bella's cheek. "Shall we go and put this load in the car? We've only got one more stop to make before it's time to head home."

"One more?" Bella looked exhausted. "I already have lots of clothes now…"

"Not clothes, silly girl," laughed Alice. "You'll like this one. I promise."

"Are you sure?" Her little voice was skeptical. "You said that about the shoes…"

"Yes, well…" Alice laughed, "I'll be right this time. I just know it."

Bella did not have gumption or the courage to speak out again—she had done enough of that for one day—and so she trailed dejectedly behind Alice as they once again, for the third time, made their way to the mall entrance.

"To the right," said Alice, steering both Bella and Rose. Rose did not know exactly where they were going—if it was another clothing store, or, God forbid, a shoe store, Rose would have to put her foot down. There was only so much a little girl could take…

Bella gasped when Alice stopped, and even Rosalie had to smile. She had underestimated her sister—under all that excitement and vivacious bargain hunting was a soft and tender underbelly. Alice had experience in this store as well, though she did not love it nearly as much as her husband did, and Rose laughed when Bella did not even wait for permission before she dropped Rosalie's hand and wandered slowly into the store, stopping to stare before she had made it even two feet inside.

"Look at them all," she gasped, and Alice chuckled. "There are so many!"

"Yeah," Alice glanced at Rose. "Go on and browse. I know you love them, so you can pick out a few to bring home for being such a good sport today."

"These are better than treasures…" Her little eyes raked over the colourful shelves. "I never had any for my very own before."

The amazement in her voice broke Rose's heart—she was such a smart little girl, so eager to learn, so how could it be that she had never owned a book?

Jasper would be horrified.

"Go and look, honey," said Rose softly, pointing her towards the back corner where the picture books waited. "Grab a few that you like, and then we can go home."

"These books are even better than your dad's," said Bella excitedly, grabbing a children's encyclopedia from the lowest shelf. It was thick and heavy—a hardbound volume full of glossy pictures and short, quick annotations. Rosalie had expected a picture book—most kids her age seemed to enjoy those the best—but she did not say no when Bella pressed the book on her, a plaintive gleam in her eye.

"Whichever ones you want," laughed Rose, holding on to it for her. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't read."

"How many?" breathed Bella. Rose considered her for a moment. Part of her wanted to impose no limit—it was hardly fair to cut her off when they'd spent so much money on extraneous accessories and other nonsense—but Rose suspected that if she did not, they would be in that store until closing.

"Three," said Alice quickly, giving Rose a wink. "That book Rose is holding is one. So go and find yourself two more and then we'll go back home."

"Okay." The prospect of three didn't seem to upset her—on the contrary, she seemed determinedly excited.

Rose soon discovered that book shopping with Bella was even worse than shoe shopping with Alice—something Rose had never thought possible. Alice was notorious in shoe stores—for almost a decade, Jasper had refused to even go near one when she was with him—but watching Bella pull book after book from the shelves, her little brow furrowed as she assessed all the cover illustrations (Rose knew she could not yet read), was torturous.

"We might be here until morning," breathed Alice, unable to stop laughing. "She's worse than Jasper, and that's saying something."

"She's worse than you!" hissed Rose incredulously. "Look at her… I don't think she'll leave here until she's put her hands on every last one of them."

"We need to get going soon," said Alice, checking her watch. "Esme will worry if we're not back by bedtime."

"Have you found one, sweetheart?" asked Rose quietly, cutting into her concentration as she focused on the cover of a Dr. Seuss book. Her brow quizzical and her little mouth turned down in a careful frown, she shrugged.

"Dunno."

"Well…" Rose reached up to the higher part of the shelf. "What about this one?"

Disney Princess Stories.

"Ooh… that's Rapunzel," she said, pointing at one of the characters painted on the front. "And that's Tiana."

"Yes," said Rose, though she had no clue what the girl was talking about. "Does this look like a good one?"

"I suppose…" she sounded hesitant. "But I want to get the very best ones."

"We'll come back another day," said Alice quickly. "This won't be the only time you get to pick."

"It won't?" Bella's little face lit up. "I'll get more books later?"

"Of course," said Alice, reaching out for another volume Bella had plucked from the shelf twice already. "You seem to like this one, too…"

A Children's Guide to the Human Body

"That one is like the Doctor's," she said quietly, almost as if she had not intended for them to hear. "I like his books."

"Well, Carlisle would be thrilled if you got this one," said Alice. Rosalie knew she spoke the truth—it would delight him to know that he had inspired her. "Do these ones look good to you?"

Bella stared, considering, at the encyclopedia, the book of Disney shorts, and the children's medical guide, before she nodded once and lifted herself from the carpeted floor.

On their way out, her little face wistful, Bella paused to speak.

"Goodbye, Barnes and Noble," she said. Alice snorted.

"It'll be there next time," she promised, watching as Bella settled into her car seat. "Thank you for being such a good girl today."

"Thank you for buying me things," returned Bella, yawning. "Thank you for the clothes, and for the shoes, and for the treasures, and the books, and the blue…"

Her eyelids grew too heavy then, and they fell shut with a soft snore.

"We've worn her out," said Rose, reaching back to pull Bella's new jacket up over her shoulders. The car was cold—Alice had only just turned on the heat—and she was shivering.

"She did good," said Alice. "Honestly, I thought she would have tapped out much sooner than she did. But just wait until Jasper hears about the bookstore…"

"Never mind," chuckled Rose. "Wait until Jasper sees what happened in Macy's."

"You did not!" gasped Alice, though there was no real affront in her voice. "You filmed us?"

"How could I not?" crowed Rose. "You got your ass handed to you by a six year old. I've never met anyone as stubborn as her…"

"You've got that part right," sighed Alice. "She's definitely stubborn. I still wish she would have chosen pink…"

"She's not a pink kind of girl, Alice," said Rose. "But don't worry. I know you got her at least two pink dresses…"

"Of course I got her pink dresses!" exclaimed Alice. "Do you know how long I've been waiting to style a little girl? They have such cute outfits for kids nowadays…"

"You do realize," said Rosalie dryly, "that not all little girls wear pink? Or even dresses, for that matter?"

"Oh whatever," laughed Alice. "She'll wear them. I've seen it. As long as I cut it with a decent amount of t-shirts and jeans, she'll let me stuff her into a pretty dress every now and again."

"Lucky you."

"Oh hush…" Alice was giggling. "You had fun today, and you know it."

"I did," admitted Rose. "I'm not usually a shopper, but it was nice watching her open up."

"You learn a lot about someone by how they shop," quipped Alice. "And now, we know what kinds of things she likes."

"Yeah," Rosalie grimaced. "Tacky knickknacks."

"Tacky knickknacks," agreed Alice. "But they're her tacky knickknacks."

"That's exactly why I bought them," said Rose. "I don't like them, but she obviously thinks highly of them…"

Rose turned around to look in the back seat. There was a flush on Bella's cheeks—the same flush that she had shown each time she saw something she liked—and Rosalie noted, with only a small twinge of pity, how even in sleep she kept her hand clenched around her precious bag of trinkets with the Barnes and Noble bag on her lap.