A/N- Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome. My motto for this chapter is "fluff is for pussies"-get ready for some angst.

Disclaimer: Props to SM-she owns it all

Chapter song: "Heavy in Your Arms"-Florence and The Machine

After dinner, Alice and I cleaned up the kitchen while everyone else retired to the living room to sit through more awkward conversation and/or silence. I wondered ludicrously if watching television was too low class for the Hales. How do they even buy things like televisions and furniture? I pictured them in Wal-Mart and snorted to myself.

"What's so funny?" Alice snapped the dishwasher closed and turned it on.

"Nothing," I answered. "Hey, don't let yourself get upset over what that woman in there said to you. You're doing great and I'd kill for your ass."

Alice giggled. "First of all, that woman will be the death of me one day. Second, Edward loves your ass; you should keep it."

I raised my eyebrows. "And you know this how?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Jasper told me."

I opened my mouth and closed it a few times before answering, "I'm not sure if I should be disturbed or flattered that A. Edward is discussing my ass with Jasper and B. Jasper is discussing my ass with you."

Alice rolled her eyes and wiped down the counter. I really hadn't helped clean up, I just realized, but watched Alice instead. To ease the guilt, I swiped at the stove with my hand a little.

"I wasn't discussing your ass with Jasper…stop doing that, now I'm going to have to vacuum….we were talking about you and Edward; we think you guys are cute together."

"Somehow I can't conceive of Jasper using the word, 'cute' when talking about Edward and I."

"Okay, I said 'cute'. His philosophy is 'whatever makes you happy'; and both of you seem pretty happy," she smiled.

"We've only went out on one date," I told her. "How can you tell by one date that we're happy?"

She grinned wickedly at me. "Last night, I got thirsty and came down into the kitchen…before the storm." My eyes grew wide. "I just happened to look out back and saw you looking very happy."

"Damn. Bitches don't get any privacy around here," I grumbled.

Edward walked in just as Alice was finished sweeping up the crumbs I had swiped onto the floor in my attempt at lending a hand. He stretched his arms over his head and I watched his biceps flex and his body tense as he let out a pleasant groan.

"I had to get out of there. They just brought up politics and I'm not getting near that conversation with a ten foot pole," he grumbled. "The kitchen looks good."

Alice opened her mouth to speak but I cut in, "Thanks. I did most of it."

"What?" Alice shrieked. She turned to Edward but pointed her finger at me. "She did nothing but talk about how big your…"

Luckily, I had good reflexes so I was able to cover her mouth with my palm before the most embarrassing part of that sentence left her mouth.

Edward blinked at us, looking amused; his face turning a nice shade of pink but nowhere near the shade of pink that was smeared across mine. I gave Alice a look and I could feel her smile beneath my hand.

"You be good or I'll tell Prudence that you're a Democrat," I hissed. Her eyes widened with panic and she clutched my free hand in silent plea. I dropped my hand, and cocked an eyebrow at her. "You know I'd never do that to you."

"Who wants to go out to the pool?" Edward asked, probably terrified the discussion about the size of his male anatomy wasn't completely over.

"I'm game," I smiled at him. "Alice?"

"I better go in there and pretend to enjoy myself. You guys are lucky; not dating a Hale and all." She hung the washrag over the sink and let her eyes wander over the kitchen in search of some dirt that she possibly missed.

After some serious consideration, I lifted the lid off one of Rosalie's cooking canisters and stuck my hand in. With a grin, I pulled it out and sprinkled flour all over the kitchen tile then clapped my hands together, creating a visible puff of white dust.

Alice raised her eyebrows at me. "You…" she sighed, "are like the best fucking friend in the world."

I walked out the back door with Edward, and we kicked off our flip flops.

"So, were you discussing the girth or length," he asked, a smirk playing at his lips.

My toes froze in mid-swipe of the pool water and I blinked at him. "Actually, we were talking about the discussion you had with Jasper about my ass."

His eyed widened slightly and his smirk turned into a full out grin. "Well, it is nice."

I sat down and dunked my feet in the warm water and leaned back on the palms of my hands. Edward crouched down to follow suit but the sound of his phone ringing stopped his movement.

"Damn it," he cursed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. "It's Carlisle…I'll be right back." He smiled apologetically at me as he got up and retreated back to the house. I nodded as if I knew who Carlisle was and how important it was that his call didn't go unanswered.

My feet played in the water, back and forth and then figure-eights, gliding smoothly through the chlorinated water with little effort. The sun was starting to set in the distance creating a pinkish hue over the dark waters of the Atlantic. I wondered what the weather was like in Seattle, and I pictured the city I knew so well in my head. The tall buildings, the grey skies, the view of the Space Needle from my bedroom window. So much had changed since the last time I took in that view. I didn't even feel like the same person, anymore.

"Are you hiding out here?"

I turned around and Rosalie's father was watching me, his shoulder leaning against the doorway and his hand clutching that familiar glass of scotch.

"Just enjoying the view," I told him curtly.

"Mmm…yes." His reply was on the creepy side as his eyes swam over my bare legs.

"So, Miss. Swan…" he started.

"Bella," I corrected him. "Unless you're wearing a badge or have your own special set of colored pencils, you can call me Bella."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "Bella," he said as if trying out the word, "how is the teaching profession going for you?"

I turned away from him, unable to look into his eyes; the conversation he had with Emmett still fresh in my brain. "It's good. I love it."

He walked closer to me and sat in a chair beside the pool. I could smell the scotch as he leaned forward, toward me. "It's true, though, what Pru was saying about teachers being very underappreciated in the financial department. Honestly, I don't know how you do it with inflation on the rise. You have your mortgage, groceries, car payment…"

"Do you have a point?" He was starting to piss me off. I didn't have a mortgage or a car payment but that wasn't any of his concern.

His eyes brows flickered at my obvious animosity. "You don't like us very much, do you?"

"No, I don't but I love your daughter."

He chuckled. "Yes, I seem to hear that from everyone I talk to in this house."

My feet started getting more violent with the water, sloshing and kicking a little at it. I focused on the rush of water flowing between my toes as I filled my lungs with breath, then released in a slow whoosh through my lips.

Breathe, Bella, just breathe.

"You know, Rosalie wasn't always so pragmatic. When she was little, she used to dream of marrying a prince. All the details were planned out perfectly and God forbid you tell her she couldn't have any of it. She wanted a huge wedding with bouquets of flowers. I think at one point, she decided on twenty bridesmaids," he laughed. He watched my reaction; I was concentrating on remaining neutral. "Do you think that Emmett can provide that for her?"

Breathe. Just Breathe.

"When I was little, I wanted to marry Brad Pitt and have a never ending supply of Macaroni and Cheese. Who's going to make that dream come true?" I seethed.

My goal was to piss him off and make him leave me alone but all it did was widen his smile. This was an absolute test of my gift. I hadn't been this angry since the "alley clash".

"Emmett is not good for her, Bella. She deserves someone who can make all her dreams come true and someone who can provide for her. Do you think that just because they live in this big house on the beach that she is happy? Do you think that she will have everything that she's ever dreamed of if she marries that man in there? She won't and in return, it will end in disaster. That's why I'm asking you to help me." I pulled my legs out of the pool and stood up, with my arms crossed over my chest. He rose out of his chair and towered over me, a form of purposeful intimidation. "Of course, I'll pay you."

"There are so many things wrong with…"

"Twenty thousand dollars…imagine what that can do for you. All you have to do is make yourself available to Emmett. Get him drunk…take advantage of him." His eyes were wide for being so hammered and the creep factor was turning into a crazy factor.

I threw my head back and let out a laugh. "You think that…you want me to seduce Emmett? Break them up? You…" I pointed my finger at him, poking him in the chest in the process, "are a wretched old drunk with a bitch of a wife who is delusional and classless. Oh, and you have too much fucking money."

I tried to walk past him but he grabbed my arm, stopping me. Desperation apparent on his face. This was his last chance to "rescue" his baby girl from the claws of the big bad penniless giant.

"If you don't let go of me, I'm going to…"

"If you saw how many wealthy and successful men, friends of ours, who want to marry Rosalie and take care of her…maybe you wouldn't be so quick to judge. The difference between what could be and what will be is remarkable if she marries Emmett," he seethed. "I figured by looking at you, that you'd take me up on my offer in a heartbeat."

I couldn't figure out at the moment whether he was calling me poor or a whore, but I didn't think on it for longer than a few seconds. Neither one was particularly flattering. As the unbridled rage built up inside me, the chair William had been sitting in flew into the pool. Nice. That helped a lot. As he turned to watch the chair sink to the bottom of the pool, I pulled my arm out of his grasp.

He turned back to me, resembling a bulldog. His eyes wide and bloodshot, lower jaw protruding and the smallest amount of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"You are nothing but a useless whore!" he growled.

I turned my back on him, prepared to walk away from the house entirely, until the Hales had departed, but ran smack-dab into Edward's chest. There was no question that he had heard at least part of the conversation because I had only seen this side of Edward once before. He was looking at William Hale in the same manner as he regarded Jake in that alley. His eyes bulging and his jaw clenched; his shoulders tense and fists squeezed into shaky balls of impending violence. I was torn. Part of me wanted to stop this, keep him from beating the shit out of the middle-aged drunk behind me. The other part of me wanted to whip off my shorts and hump his leg because while angry Edward was terrifying, he was also the hottest thing I had ever fucking seen.

"What did you just say to her?" Edward's voice was careful and rather calm considering his body language.

"Edward, let's just…" I started but the dumb ass behind me had a death wish.

"I think you heard me," he said. I heard the sound of glass against glass. He was setting his drink down.

Edward moved around me and stood face to face with William. I grabbed his arm and tugged, trying desperately to keep this from escalating into physical violence. Not that I cared if Edward creamed him, but the man had to have ten lawyers on speed dial. He could make Edward's life a living hell, if he wanted.

"If you ever…ever talk to Bella again, I will…" Edward took a deep breath and the arm that I was tugging on, relaxed minutely, "…it won't be good for you." Then he turned around, grabbed my hand, and pulled me behind him toward the house.

"You're a smart guy, Edward, knowing what's at stake!" he yelled at us.

Edward turned around and glared at him. "The reason that you aren't laid out on the ground right now is not because of fear. It's because you're Rose and Jasper's father."

In the kitchen, Alice had somehow managed to spill some sort of liquid on the floor. She was on her hands and knees soaking it up with a towel when we stormed in. She was really milking the cleaning the kitchen thing.

"What happened?" she asked when she saw our grim expressions.

"Later, Al," I squeaked out as Edward tugged me with him.

We bypassed the living room and went straight up the stairs, Edward practically dragging me the entire way. He slammed his door shut behind us and let go of my hand to rub his palms over his face.

"Thank you but you didn't have to…I had it under control," I told him. While I wanted to let him know I appreciated his manly protection, I didn't need rescuing this time.

He grabbed his half empty duffel bag and flung it across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and sank to the floor. The incoherent curses and the roughness of his movements was putting me on edge. Then he looked at me as if he had forgotten I was there.

"Bella, just…please…just…" he trailed off.

He flopped down on the bed, and fell onto his back with his face covered by his fingers. I just stood there sensing his desire to be left alone but unwilling to be in same room with any of the Hales at this point.

"Edward, are you more upset about what happened by the pool or the phone call?" I knew it was stupid to ask such things when tempers were flaring and the memory of the past ten minutes was so fresh in his brain but I couldn't just stand there and watch him fall apart.

He looked up at me, the torment evident on his face. "Can we…can I just be alone, Bella? Just for a little while?"

I wanted to argue that he's the one who dragged me in here but I kept my mouth shut. His eyes closed but the pain was resistant; a tear fell down his cheek and he wiped it away with a jerk of his hand.

With a nod he wouldn't see, I turned away toward the door, a vision of my Mother unexpectedly filling my mind. My hand was on the knob when I realized that I couldn't leave him alone like this; with terrible thoughts and feelings raging through his body. I didn't know what tortured him but he needed to know that I wouldn't just leave when times got tough. I stepped over a pile of clothes, a book and a couple of CD's until I sat down on the wicker chair beside his bed.

I knew what I needed to do. The key to anyone opening up is vulnerability. No one wants to be weak; it's survival instincts no matter what species you are. If you show your weakness, you're bound to get eaten alive. I needed to show him that I wouldn't destroy him during his frailest moments. To do that, I had to show him that I trusted him.

The guitar sat by his bed as if it were calling me, and I found the pick sitting on the his nightstand just within reach. I pulled it toward my chest, hugging it, asking it to do my bidding. I strummed once and got no reaction from him; not a single muscle moved, and his eyes remained tightly closed. I wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

Then I started playing. It was the only song I could play, and my breath shook as I realized that I had never played this for anyone, even Alice. The memories that took over me when I heard it, played it, sang it were crucial to this moment. There was no going back once the first words escaped from my throat.

"If I should stay, well, I will only be in your way. And so I'll go, and yet I know that I'll think of you each step of my way and I will always love you…" I held back a sob and closed my eyes. I couldn't stand to see the questions in his eyes if he decided to look up at me. "Bittersweet memories, that is all I have and all I'm taking with me, so goodbye. Oh, please don't cry, cause we both know that I'm not what you need…" I remembered it so clearly; how is that so possible, to remember something from so long ago? I could still smell the cigarette smoke on her breath, feel her collarbone pressing into my cheek, remember the way she swayed back and forth creating this little bubble of calmness that surrounded the two of us.

"And I hope life treats you kind, and I hope that you have all that you ever dreamed of. Oh, I do wish you joy and I wish you happiness but above all this, I wish you love…" She whispered those words to me, her warm breath in my ear as she held me tight. "…I will always love you."

When the song ended, I stopped the movement of my fingers but gripped the guitar as if it were holding me to this earth; keeping me from flying back into time to that moment. Slowly, I opened my eyes and I felt the warm tears being unleashed, attacking my cheeks. Edward had sat up on the bed, his back against the wall, with sadness reflected in his eyes.

"Renee loved to sing. Her favorite type of music was old time country like Loretta Lynn or Johnny Cash but she adored Dolly Parton. It seemed to be the only thing that made her truly happy for a while. She'd turn it up, take my hand and twirl me around the living room," I laughed at the memory and wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. Edward kept his gaze on me, his eyes glassy and bloodshot. "One night, I had a nightmare. I can't remember what it was but I screamed out for her. She came in, and wrapped me in her arms like any mother would do. I cried so hard on her shoulder but she just rubbed my back and shushed me. When I stopped crying, I thought she would go back to bed but instead…instead, she picked me up and clutched onto me. Then she sang me that song." I didn't think twice about my tear stained nightgown or the few extra minutes she watched me before she walked out of my room. "She disappeared the next day."

A horrible sounding sob broke free from me and I broke the promise I had made to myself so long ago: That I'd never cry for her again. Edward looked helpless and I couldn't blame him. There was always question around someone shedding tears: To comfort or not to comfort. I wanted to feel him, his body next to mine, but I didn't hold it against him when he didn't move off the bed. "I didn't think twice about it at the time, it was just so nice to…to…to feel her holding me like that." I shook my head frantically, remembering the millions of times I rehearsed that memory in my mind. "I didn't…but I always remembered it. When I moved in with Charlie, I played it obsessively because it reminded me of her. It didn't hit me until a couple of years later that she was actually telling me goodbye that night."

His voice broke me from a trance when he softly said, "I'm sorry, Bella."

I took a deep breath and exhaled, "It's…okay. I didn't tell you that for pity. I wanted to…"

"My mother is sick."

My eyes widened and I froze, afraid that if I moved it would startle him back into submission. He looked away from me, focusing on a loose thread on his comforter. I wasn't sure what I had expected but it wasn't this.

"Paranoid Schizophrenia. She was diagnosed when she was twenty one. It was a couple of years after she married my Dad, and before she had me. She started seeing things and hearing voices; scared my Dad to death. They took her to the hospital and did blood work but didn't find anything abnormal so she started seeing a Psychiatrist." He shifted on the bed, awkwardness and torment written so clearly on his face. I put his guitar down and my body twitched to go over to him but I stayed put. This was obviously hard for him so I didn't want to come off as patronizing by kissing his boo-boo and telling him that everything would be okay.

"When I was little, she was so much fun. Even though she was on loads of medication that made her exhausted, she did everything for our family. Cleaned, cooked and took care of me, which was no small feat," he laughed and I laughed with him. "She talked to people that weren't there and mumbled things that made no sense but I was a kid. I thought she was doing it for my benefit. She forgot things a lot, simple things like the fact that I had to go to school. Well, I got older and I started to see the differences between her and other parents. My Dad sat down and talked with me about it; told me about her disease. He made it clear to me that just because she had this illness, it didn't make her any less capable to be my Mom. I took that to heart."

I couldn't take it anymore. I got up and crawled into bed with him, and sat down beside him. With my hand in his, he continued his story.

"She seemed fine…well, balanced until my Dad died. Her world fell apart around her and she stopped taking her meds. She became violent; started fights with people in the grocery store. It got so bad that I couldn't let her go out of the house by herself. That's when I dropped out of the Internship I was involved in." He looked down at our clasped hands and sighed, almost like he was relieved. "Carlisle said…"

"Carlisle?"

"Carlisle is my uncle and her brother. He was in medical school when she was diagnosed so he changed his field to psychiatry instead of surgery. It was very admirable but I tell him all the time that he did it because of his anal-retentive tendencies," he chuckled, sadly. "Carlisle told me that she stopped taking her medication. When I asked her about it, she became aggressive and accused me of trying to take away her memories of my Dad."

"That…had to have hurt," I said.

He nodded. "It did but I knew so much about the disease that I knew it wasn't her saying this."

"So, you became her caregiver?"

"I did. I moved in with her and became her protector, her spokesman, her nurse. I didn't trust anyone else to do it but this past spring, it started to take a hold of me. The things she would say to me when I was trying to talk her into doing something as simple as eating…it was too much. No matter what she is going through and how sick she is, those things still hit you where it counts, you know?"

I nodded in response. "Of course."

"So we moved in with Carlisle and Esme, my Aunt. She continued going to therapy, and started taking her meds again. After a month or so, she was reminding me of my Mom again. That's when Carlisle overheard Emmett asking me to come here for the summer."

"You didn't want to leave her," I said.

"I was terrified to leave her. Things were going well so why rock the boat; but Carlisle was concerned that she was too dependent on me, and coming to Miami would help her learn some independence. I felt like I was abandoning her so I declined Emmett's invitation, at first." He smiled to himself, probably remembering Emmett's side of that conversation.

"But you decided to come," I said. "Why is that?"

"Because Carlisle is a sneaky bastard," he sighed. "He talked to my Mom about it and she actually told me that she wanted me to go to Miami. She told me to 'get tan and get laid, for Christ's sake'." He laughed, but tears were forming in his eyes.

"Since you left? How is she?"

He clenched his jaw and cleared his throat. "She goes up and down. Every time Carlisle calls, she's either refused meds, food, or a bath. She digressing slowly but surely however each time Carlisle calls me, he insists that I stay here instead of going back. We argue about it and I end up hanging up with the constant worry that I'm doing the wrong thing. I think this time, I need to go; probably within the next few days."

"You know her better than anyone, Edward."

"Last night, she became aggressive at dinner and ended up destroying half of Esme's kitchen. Carlisle said he had never seen her like this. He wants to admit her to a hospital…he wants to have her committed. I can't do that do her." He rubbed his face with his free hand and groaned. "I've loved being here but it's driving me insane to think that she's doing this because of me."

I bit my lip and watched his face contort with grief and guilt. "I don't know much about Schizophrenia so…don't take this the wrong way but it's not your responsibility to help make her better. If she had cancer or some other chronic illness, would you feel like it's up to you to care for her? There's doctors who specialize in…"

He pulled his hand out of mine. "You sound like Carlisle," he spat. "What am I supposed to do? Walk away from her? Leave her in some white room with padded walls so they can shock the hell out of her brain and pump her with so many drugs that she doesn't know her own name?"

"No! That's not at all what I'm saying but…"

"This is why I didn't tell you, Bella. You don't know her…you don't know anything about what she's went through in her life." His protectiveness of his Mom was understandable but this response was too robotic. No matter what I said to him, he was going to react on the defensive.

I could play this two ways, both of them would leave me with a bad taste in my mouth. Either I could humor him and take the brunt of his frustrations or I could tell him exactly how I felt. Being the type of person who avoided confrontation, no matter what the situation, it would be difficult to choose the latter but that's exactly what I did.

"Oh, I don't? Edward, I've lived my whole life terrified of ending up in that padded room. No, I don't know exactly what she'd been through and I'm not trying to pretend to but I know what it's like to have something wrong with you that no one understands. Something I can't control nor have any idea how to control it. When I was in high school, I was petrified to go to school because I was afraid that someone would say the wrong thing to me and piss me off then who knows what the hell would break or fly off the wall." I grabbed his hand and he let me have it even though he wouldn't make eye contact with me. "There were days…when I was so ready to give up and just…just let someone take me away. Some days, I welcomed the padded room.

"I'm not saying that she hasn't been through hell or that you haven't but you can't tell me that I don't have the slightest idea about what she's going through. She's incredibly lucky to have you."

My hands were shaking and a dizziness filled my head as I watched him react. I couldn't imagine what was racing through that beautiful head of his as he sat frozen, staring at the bed in front of him. A tear ran down his cheek and he let it reach his chin and drip onto his chest before wiping at the trail that it left behind. He finally turned to me, his eyes a raging inferno of green and hurt. Oh, what this man had went through the past few years. What I wouldn't give to just kiss it and make it better but the one thing I've learned in my life is that sometimes that just isn't a possibility. Sometimes you have to suffer in order to survive.

He opened his mouth to finally speak but three soft knocks on the door interrupted him. "Bella? It's Alice. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." My voice strained to reach a volume that could be heard through the door.

"You don't sound fine."

"Go talk to her; she's probably worried," Edward said and nodded once toward the door. It was what he wanted; his much desired privacy.

As I walked to the door, Edward gently spoke; the sound of his voice practically tearing me in two. "This is difficult for me, Bella. I don't mean to be a prick about this."

"You're not," I told him and put my hand on the door knob. Before I turned it, I faced him again. "What I told you about Renee…I've never told anyone that before."

Before he could reply, I opened the door and walked away from him.

A/N: I have no knowlege of mental disorders except from a Psychology class that I took in college. That was a while go. Just sayin'. What did every one think of Bella's reaction to the news about Edward's Mom? Let me know! *peeking out from in-between my fingers*