A/N: OMG! Here we are... this is it. It's really happening. Skating on the thin edge of excitement and terror, Bella has a few more dips on this roller coaster before gliding into the station to meet the next milestone on the way to her destiny. Buckle your seat belts and keep you hands inside the vehicle at all times. Thank you for choosing the Cullen House of Wedded Bliss!

Here we go...

As the moments tick away, one has to wonder; will the Bride find a way to enjoy herself before it's too late? There are some signs of improvement. Hope springs eternal. The women guide Bella through the last moments of her transition from maiden to bride...no one could be more cared for or prepared as our girl.

"Why is it so quiet in here, Alice? Where is everyone?" Climbing the wide staircase arm and arm, there was an eerie silence in the house. Considering the mob scene in the driveway, still air was unsettling.

"There were, like, a thousand people outside just ten minutes ago and now…"

"Don't you worry, little Bride, the staff will return in time for champagne and cake!"

"That's not what I meant, Alice, and you know it," Bella hissed, demonstrating the fuse of her emotion lay very near the surface of her skin. "Where are the people who aren't getting paid?"

"Well, the boys are still out-of-bounds, of course," Alice said with a wary eye. "Jasper and Emmett took Edward out for a little snack…"

Before the wheels of opportunity could twist in Bella's mind, Alice turned on her with the rigor of a jailer.

"He's not in range either, Miss Smarty Pants, so don't get any ideas of sending smoke signals or Morse code or…" she warned sternly.

"Morse code, ummm?" Bella exclaimed, smacking herself in the head. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"…and don't even ask…" Alice giggled, as a question crept into Bella's head only to quickly emerge on her face.

"Ask what, Alice?" Bella's innocent tone meant her thought was anything but innocent. "What's so funny?"

"He didn't get even close to getting away last night, you little sneaker," she said, a single digit of accusation met the hardened pixie chin, "… but I gave him props for ingenuity in the effort. It took Emmett and Carlisle to subdue him enough so Jazz could contain him. It was quite a sight. Esme was not happy redoing the border plants," Alice sighed dramatically. "I think Rose got some pictures. You know, for the wedding album."

"If they bruised my groom, Alice," the bride's face pursed with the sour taste, "I'll be mad."

"Don't worry sweet cheeks. Your little kinky boy rather enjoyed being tied up."

Alice delighted in the horrified face as Bella's imagination kicked into high gear.

Although he put on a good show last night at the rehearsal dinner, Edward was more committed to his banishment than he cared to admit to his bride. The denial of her presence heightened his anticipation of the moment of his dreams. For nearly a hundred years, he had carried a singular desire that he had long ago put up as impossible. However, today, that dream was reality. The sight of his bride approaching was nearly in sight.

"Carlisle did make brunch with Charlie, Renee, and Phil at the diner." Dancing up the stairs, Alice giggled as the images of her vision played out in her head like a favorite home movie.

"I am sure that was very interesting." Bella's eyes widened at the news of her parents socializing with a vampire.

"What was interesting is what happened when Jazz and Emmett showed up with Edward! Even I didn't see that one coming!" Alice hummed, enjoying the vision of the groomsmen pushing the reluctant groom through the door of the diner, mindful to not rip it off its hinges.

"But it all turned out just fine… in the end, anyway," she sighed, waving off whatever detail of the event with a dismissive hand. "Of course, I knew it would be fine… but there always is a chance…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Alice? Did something happen?"

Bella's mind ran hot to the catastrophic as a litany of worst case scenarios flashed in her mind. One more hideous than the next, the idea of her family confronting Edward alone and in public was too gruesome a threat to not cause anxiety.

"Did Renee say something to Edward?" Bella growled, protecting him after the fact. "Did she make a scene?"

"Give it up, Bella. Renee is harmless." Alice rolled her eyes, staring down at the bride as if bored by her old news, but she was not completely without compassion. "I know you don't believe it after all you've been through, but trust me, okay? Renee is happy for you. She loves Edward. She wants to be here. End of story."

"Tell me what happened, Miss It was all right in the end. You can't do this to me, it's not fair."

"You will have to ask Edward about that, cutie." Alice shrugged, anticipating the retort. "Cullens don't tell other people's stories, Bella. You know that."

"Sure," she said, gathering steam, "you can drop not-very-subtle hints about conflict with Renee, but you can't tell the tale, is that it?"

"That's about the size of it, yes," Alice snickered, unmoved by the pouting bottom lip.

"Look, they had some quality time together in town. That's it. No big deal. Then Emmett and Jazz took him out for a little… snack."

"If it was no big deal, why did you make a big deal about it 'all working out in the end?' What are you not telling me about the beginning?"

"Sorry, baby," Alice shook her head sympathetically, "no can do…"

"Sometimes I want to hurt you, Alice," the Bride growled, "I really really do."

"Yeah, well," the little pixie huffed, "I don't see that happening, like eva, lil' sista!"

"We'll have to see about that, Alice," Bella hissed. From the expression on her face, Alice wondered if her visions of Bella's newborn time might not offer as complete a picture as she assumed.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Alice flipped the clipboard onto the hall table with a clang of finality, and relief.

"So, that leaves the whole house to just us girls!"

Automatically, or so it seemed, the French doors to Esme's suite swung open, revealing what should be recognized as a bridal museum. Lavishly decorated in white on white, the combination of fabric, textures, and design delighted the eye. A dressing table with vanity awaited servicing the bride. A chaise lounge, wide enough to be a twin bed, covered in damask silk, whispered an indecent invitation to recline and forget. A platform with triple mirror awaited the presentation of beauty from all angles. White slipper chairs and an overstuffed ottoman as large as a small island completed the perfect picture of a boudoir in high fashion feminine interior decor.

On a silk-skinned mannequin, the gown was displayed as a royal headless queen waiting for coronation.

For as many times as Alice found ingenious excuses to insist on Bridal previews, for all the peeking into the garment rack tucked into the back of the closet, and the obsessive disinterest that seemed to consume her, Bella's heart fluttered with every sighting of her wedding dress.

Alice's design was a flawless expression of the Bride's essence. Not only was it made for her - a one of a kind - it could never be worn by another. The dress was Isabella Swan, the soon to be Isabella Cullen, and no one could share in her splendor.

Regal in its simplicity, the empire-waisted gown of silk organza flowed in three tiers to a simple sweep train. A square bateau neckline slung wide over her shoulders, calling the eye to her long white neck, the tantalizing site of her intended's undoing. Small rosettes fell along the shoulders, meeting at the center of her bosom in a diadem of ruching cupping the bustline.

Only a princess could wear a dress like this one.

Unconsciously biting her lip, as if to keep the bubbling excitement from spilling out, the pull of the costume on this day was more than she imagined it would ever be. The mannequin queen waiting for her crowning glory stood sentinel, awaiting her fanfare, and her presentation for consecration.

"Soon, very soon," she whispered, remembering Edward's words caressing her body with a promise of so much more.

Already at work laying out the all the undergarments and the veil, Esme glowed with excitement as they crossed the threshold into the bride's room, where Bella began the final steps to fulfilling her destiny to become Mrs. Isabella Cullen.

"The Bride… she has arrived!" the proud mother of the groom cried out in song, gushing with the excitement of a young girl, yet fussing like a mother hen. "Let me look at you," Esme said, holding Bella's shoulders, inspecting every line, assessing every freckle for indications of her little chick's needs.

"Sweetie, have you been crying?" Tracing the tracks of dried tears, Esme's brow creased with concern. "Is everything all right, darling?"

"Yeah," Bella sighed, a flush rising on her cheeks with the thought of how much of a mess her face must be. "I think crying is going to be a recurrent theme today, Esme."

A sarcastic chuckled echoed loudly in the silence, and Esme's early warning system sounded the alarm. Keenly calibrated to her human daughter's sensitive nature, Esme could detect the battle of emotions raging in Bella without looking at her haggard appearance.

"Is she alright, Alice?" Esme whispered faster than Bella could hear. However, Bella did not need to hear the words to know the question.

"Really, Esme I'm fine." Bella smiled, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I am a bride. Bride's cry. It's bride law," she snickered, trying to get a positive reaction from her worried mother figure. "Isn't that right, Alice?"

"Ain't that the truth!"

With a snide smile, Rose chimed in. Where once the sudden appearance of the bombshell blonde beauty would unnerve Bella, since sharing multiple crises, there no longer was a wall between them.

"So, Bella," Rose murmured, teasing but powerfully observing every nuance for a hint of real trouble. There was something in the little human that brought out a maternal instinct of a lion protecting her cubs.

"Tell us, how is our Bride feeling now—after the crying jag, I mean?"

"Shaky, weepy, and excited," Bella said, somehow surprised by the self-assessment. "I 'll be okay."

"Yes, of course you will, dear," Esme smiled warmly, sighing in acceptance that the disturbance in the air was nothing unusual. It was just the electric moment accelerating her excitement as time whirled by like a speeding train.

"Confusion… that is how it is for a Bride. So many feelings to sort out, it's overwhelming, isn't it?"

With a true motherly affection, Esme offered open arms, taking the soon-to-be bride's slender shoulders in her hands, and without pause, she kissed Bella, thoughtfully, purposefully, and very gently on the cheek.

Such spontaneous physical contact was a level of intimacy that once-upon-a-not-so-long-ago would have been shocking and even dangerous, but was now new and welcome. Bella smiled, thankful for the comfort she found in Esme's love, and sighed, wondering how it was that no one mentioned the temptations of her blood anymore and if they had through exposure inoculated them against blood lust.

All new white carpet blanketed the floor. Although the existing one was pristine, Alice insisted on replacing it for she feared anything less than a brand new floor covering could soil the dress. Wary that the impulse may have been brought on by a fuzzy vision of bridal wardrobe malfunction, no one argued with the pixie. No one dared.

Across the room, Rosalie was busy at work adjusting her makeup table. A salon chair and three quarter vanity mirror with high intensity lighting made the space more like a movie set than a bridal dressing room. With surgical precision, she laid out a terrifying assortment of strange implements. Examining them with the curiosity of the initiated, no doubt disrupting Rosalie's careful set up, Bella shook her head in amazement.

"What is all this stuff?" Bella asked inquisitively, inspecting her makeup table.

"Why these are the tools of the business of beauty, of course!" Rose was proud and pleased with herself, as was any auto mechanic with respect for the tools of the trade. "Can't change an air filter without the right wrench, right? So it is with a Bride's pretty face."

"More like tools of medieval torture," Bella grumbled.

At the thought of becoming victim to these strange devices, a ripple of grumpy threatened to disrupt everyone's happiness with a shower of unnecessary sarcasm, but Alice, having experienced this particular weak mindedness of the bride multiple times today, was quick to react.

"Bella, please, be good," Alice begged, pulling her aside. "It means so much to Rose."

The bride hissed, and her eyes snapped closed. In spite of great strides made between the blonde beauty and the little human, making up to Rosalie for existing had become a hobby for Bella, one that she hoped would cement their relationship for all time. Eternity is a long time to spend with someone you cannot stand.

"That's what they call hitting below the belt, Alice!" Grinding her teeth, the pounding pulse of the artery popped out and her face shifted towards the spectrum of red usually attributed to lipstick.

"It means a lot to me, too, okay?" Alice growled, batting her extraordinarily long lashes to diffuse the anger and to assure she could count on Bella's compliance. "It's only one day in forever," she sighed, suffering the challenge. "We can endure anything for one day, can't we?"

"Well, that's honest, at least," Bella sighed, acknowledging Alice had once again scored a victory.

Bella's thoughts gave way to surrender. "How can you say no to the good intentions of a charming psychic pixie vampire with the power to manipulate blood from stone?"

There was little to be done save the acceptance of the inevitable. Makeup on the bride was definitely inevitable.

Although she suspected her murky vision would clarify by giving the bride a little time to consider her options, Alice was not at all confident that the issue would be resolved without significant argument. Yet, not for the first time today, the Bride caught the wedding planner off guard.

"What did I expect? I am the ugly duckling among the beauty queens!"

Throwing her hands up in the air, Bella plopped down into the chair as if it were another sort of chair—one intended for execution.

"I need all the help I can get!" she muttered, glancing down again at the instruments of Rose's vocation, praying for deliverance, but preparing for the worst.

"Seriously?" Rose exclaimed, in shock that an argument had been so easily averted.

"Yeah, Rose," she muttered, trying to manufacture a smile just for her benefit. "Bella Barbie make-up games it is..."

"Just like that?" the pixie muttered, incredulous.

"Don't look a gift horse, okay?" Bella muttered. "Just get on with it before I change my mind."

Alice clapped her hands so quickly it was a blur, but her expression of glee showed she sincerely believed the Bride caved so easily long before the negotiation began.

"I will let you paint me, but I will not pretend to be someone I am not just for the wedding." Her index finger made a righteous threat. "When I say I have had enough, I have had enough, right?"

"Absolutely! Stop means stop!" Rose nodded emphatically, obviously in on the game that Alice so expertly manipulated. "No war paint. I got it!"

"You are the Bride," Alice twittered happily. "You are the boss!"

"You don't really mean that, do you, Alice?" Bella sneered sarcastically.

The second accusation on the same subject hurt, and the insult rumbled inside Alice like a blossoming flame.

"I told you before, Bella, from here on out to game time, no questions and no arguments."

"Well, what was that we just had about the war paint situation?" Bella huffed.

"That was a discussion terminating in negotiation, Bella," Esme offered, jumping in to offer a détente, like a neutral Switzerland, an island of calm in a turbulent sea. "I don't believe that was covered under the 'no questions and no arguments' clause," she whispered to the bride teasing her with a careful nudge.

"Nice." Bella hissed, frustrated by the semantics she could not over power. "Alice gets her way through discussion and negotiation but not questions and arguments? That's just great."

"It does seem unfair," Esme murmured, soothing her face as if she were a child with a scraped knee. "But she is doing what she promised…"

"You want to know what's unfair? Vampire logic against humans, now that's unfair!" Bella exclaimed, surprised to see Esme choose sides . "You guys should all be lawyers. Or philosophers! You make up your own rules!"

"Sounds like… fun," Esme giggled, with a little girlish shrug. "Once upon a time I had a little thing for Clarence Darrow!"

"No fishing way," Alice growled, "not with those horrible clothes… how you say, yuck!"

At least Alice possessed the grace to know when to back off and take her winnings. Persuasion and the fine art of compromise made negotiations with her particularly painful, but she was often willing to accept less than she demanded; at least where her little human sister was concerned.

"So, it's all settled then," she said. "You'll get cleaned up and then it's the chair for you!"

"That was just hysterical, Alice," Bella whined, giving Alice the construction worker once over. "Lawyers doing stand up in Dolce." She rolled her eyes. "Sounds like a bad joke."

"Bravo, Bella." Alice applauded, genuinely encouraged by the invocation of the perfect designers to upturn any courtroom. "First the Prada shoes, and now, this?"

"Our little girl is growing up, Alice," Rose sniffled, playfully feigning a tear. "I can't wait to go shopping with the new and improved Isabella Cullen." Shell shocked by the revelation of Bella's skill in identifying designers by sight.

"Don't get all excited," Bella groaned, contemplating the wisdom of trying to play snarky using the alien language of fashion. "It's the only name I remembered from Vogue."

"Bella?" Alice gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth, and whispering with complete seriousness. "You just quoted Vogue! I never dreamed such a thing!" she squealed, jumping up and down. "Bryant Park, here we come!"

"Bella, darling, I have a delicious bath all ready for you," Esme said with a kind smile, hoping to play referee to this situation that certainly would not end well. Bella never refused her, especially when offering a lifeline. "A nice hot soak will make you feel so much better, you'll see," she whispered, holding her shoulders for moral support.

Disagreeably paddling off to the bath, Bella felt like Clara, stolen away from the party to go to bed, not realizing she would dream of her Nutcracker Prince while the family danced the night away.

"Got any torture devices hidden in there, Esme?" she hissed, her eyes squinting and lips pursed.

"Not a one, sweetie," Esme said gently, "not a one…"

Although the house was a mansion, Bella never considered it one. The layout of the rooms made the expansive spaces a cozy home environment; she was always surprised how many spaces there were that she had not yet explored. Just like the boathouse, Esme's bedroom suite was one area she had never seen. Bella was shocked to learn this room, which served as the Bridal Sanctuary, was only the first room of many that made up the Master Suite. Beyond the sitting room lay bedroom, study, workspace, and a palatial spa, hidden just out of sight. This indeed was Esme's private oasis in a life where privacy was a rare commodity.

"It's all right, Bella," Esme cooed, extending an open hand to entice her. "Come…"

With an open-mouthed awe, Bella tentatively entered the room, as if her steps would disturb the woodland creatures hiding within. Instantly, she thought of the green kimono and the emblems of nature decorating it.

"This is so…" Bella struggled for words to express the sensation the room imparted to her. "…so you, Esme."

Esme smiled, embracing her surroundings with her eyes. "Yes, I suppose it is," she said, recalling the joy the design process gave her, planning each element, and discovering new ways of expression. "I love spending time here. It brings me such peace."

"I can see why…" Bella murmured.

Centered under the dome, a large sunken tub cut into the floor like a pond. A cascading stream of water rolled down the wall, creating the illusion of a babbling brook. Sunlight washed over the room like silk, folding, draping, hiding in corners, reflecting off every surface like the purest light of midday. Flower petals floating in the water like lily pads skated across the surface in soft movement. Cool blue stones sparkled from the bottom like sprites in a woodland stream. Dotting the ceiling, skillfully painted tromp l'oeil clouds were so realistic it appeared the room was open to the sky. Paradise could not hold a greater treasure than this.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable, Bella?" Esme's voice seemed softer than usual, as if she expected the creatures of the faux forest might be disturbed by their presence. "The water is waiting for you."

As Bella undressed and slid into the bath, Esme hummed contentedly, setting aside towels on the warming rack, and a fresh terry robe as thick as fur. The soft rustle of the vampire voices in the next room offered a soothing white noise and added another dimension of stress relief, filling in the blanks of sound that might otherwise have been filled with eruptions of immature lashing out, random irrational thoughts, and basic panic.

"How is the temperature, sweetheart?" Esme called from the outer room. "Not too hot?"

"Perfect," Bella purred, sinking down to her shoulders.

The bath was drawn and steaming like a hidden hot spring with fingers of steam rising from the surface. The Cullens always kept the house air conditioned now for Bella's comfort, but in anticipation of so many guests, the central air was approaching chilly. The hot bath was twice as enticing as was promised.

Reentering the room, Esme carried an enormous bouquet of red and white roses in her arms. "I love roses," Esme murmured, admiring the blooms. "Aren't they lovely? Why, there are too many to count!"

Perfecting the arrangement with a loving touch and a critical eye for balance, the colors jumped out in the dappled sunlight like a promise. When she placed the urn near the water's edge, the scent infused the air with their perfume, and the perfect garden was complete.

"Forget global warming," Bella protested, "Alice is deforesting the flower markets all by herself!" Frustration ate away at her manners and the bride's extravagance alarms sounded. "I swear she needs a twelve-step program!"

"Yes, she certainly does," Esme snickered softly, pretending to hide her whisper, "but the roses are not from Alice, sweetie."

Bella's perplexed expression was unexpected.

"Who do you think, my silly little bride?" She shook her head in disbelief that the bride had to think to know who sent flowers to her exotic bath on her wedding day.

"Are they from Edward?" Bella mumbled, blushing from her rudeness and hoping that the mother of the groom would not report the indiscretion and have the groom run to the next state before the ceremony.

"I don't know, dear. Why don't you read the card and find out?" As Esme ceremoniously twirled the ivory envelop, bringing it to her face to catch of whiff of its perfume before offering it, Bella realized her mistake. It was immediately obvious this was definitely not a florist card. The ivory paper was heavy with the handmade care of the finest papermakers. It was a special gift in itself. A recognizable pen graced the envelope with perfect script. Slipping the card from the confines of its covering, Bella's face beamed, touching the ink as if she could reach the writer through it.

"So, Bella," Esme chuckled, playing with the lovely blooms, "what does it say?"

To IMSC,

my bride, my life, my one and only love.

I long to see you, hold you, and taste the perfume of you.

EAMC

Gasping at the sight of her monogram, his voice lived in the letters of the words, and a tear of longing wet her lashes. Visions of the moment she could see him floated on the surface of the water as she offered Esme the card for safekeeping. It would not due to neglect any wedding keepsake, no matter how small.

"Oh, Esme, I can't wait!" she said, amazed. "I can't believe that I can't wait! Isn't that crazy?"

"I know, my dear," Esme cooed with a warm smile. "Soon, you will pass through the universe from maiden to woman. Nothing will be the same again."

"I thought about that this morning," she said, recalling writing those words in her diary. "Nothing is the same, but nothing is different."

"Oh my dear, after today certainly everything shall be different." Esme smoothed her fragile daughter's wet hair. "The marriage of man and wife is a special state of being. It is a sacred vocation."

A joyful smile radiated from her at the thoughts of her beloved.

"Loving is a holy knowing, Bella. Although you know Edward deeply today, you have only begun to discover each other. Each day will bring you closer… at least, that is my prayer for you."

"I hope that Edward and I have a marriage like yours and Carlisle's," Bella whispered, blushing with the thought she held tenderly in her heart. Theirs was a union that was perfect in her eyes and the strength of their bond was evident in every interaction.

"You will." Esme nodded knowingly, seeing in Bella the woman she was destined to become.

In spite of their differences, the challenges ahead, and all the suffering they had endured, there was not a doubt that Bella and Edward where intended to share their life together. This was a fact that gave Esme great joy both as a mother and as a friend.

"Rest now, sweetie. I'll be back in a moment."

The hot water was delicious, every bit as calming as promised. Floating buoyantly in the mineral salts, suspended, the weight of the events of morning evaporated on the tendrils of steam wafting up from the surface.

Sinking deeply into the comfort, she closed her eyes. Slowly submerging her shoulders, then her chin, and finally dunking completely under the water, Bella was surprised by the depth of the sunken tub, and gladly sunk into the invitation of its warm embrace.

"Bella, my love," a velvet voice murmured, resonating perfectly under the water. "Are you hiding from me?"

At the sound of his all-too familiar voice, Bella gasped, bursting through the surface of the water, upsetting bottles, candles, and flowers. The wave of water puddled on the floor.

"Edward?" she whispered, wiping the hair plastered on her eyes, fully expecting to find the him standing in the doorway with a wide smirk on his face. But the only sound was the water running down the wall.

"It had to be him."

Surrounded by the silence of Esme's sanctum, terror abated and Bella scowled, suspecting she was the victim of some vampire ventriloquism parlor trick. However, the voices of the women toiling in the next room continued without pause. Even her noisy surprise surfacing did not attract their attention.

"Just like before…" she murmured, afraid of what her brain was telling her to believe. Searching the room, there was no other choice but to admit she was entirely alone except for the voice in her imagination.

"This is not the best time for a breakdown, Bella…" she thought, sliding back into the water, darting her eyes around the room one more time. "Not a good time at all…"

The only thing she could think of was to go back under and see if the voice was still there, but the idea that it could be true terrified her. Justifying the voice was the only way she could think of to keep from screaming.

"I missed him so much last night... that's it! It is… my imagination… just like before."

Trembling with the anxiety overtaking her senses, Bella took a breath and with open eyes slid under the water, unsure what she would find. Fighting the pull of buoyancy, she remained submerged for as long as she could hold her breath, but there was no phantom voice, no sign of him, or hint that anyone or anything had tricked her into believing she heard Edward's voice.

Satisfied, Bella surfaced for the second time to find she was not alone, after all. Alice, Esme, and Rosalie were standing around the tub, wearing their ritual robes and shining with joyful smiles radiating from their faces. Their appearance was magical. The sunlight sneaking in from the dome danced on their skin; sparkling light ricochetedaround the room, bouncing off the mirrors, and shining off the water. Standing together, a unit of women, just like in the meadow on the night of her initiation, Bella suspected something wonderful was about to happen.

Rosalie was the first to break the silence by softly humming a song that had no words. Her tone, lilting and ethereal, echoed against the stone walls. A perfect rose blossom twirled in her fingers, its velvet burgundy petals expanding in the steam. She came close to the tub, singing softly of love and virtue, making wishes on each petal as they danced on the air, and into the still water.

Adding to the melody, Alice knelt at the edge of the water, humming a distinct tune to embellish Rose's, as she massaged Bella's scalp and washed her hair, scenting it with oils. Like Rose, Alice's hands worked gently as she whispered little stories, images of innocence and nomads' tents in the desert. In the magic of their song, Bella felt ecstatic, shrouded in mystery of feminine adoration, and delighting in the essence of eternity that the pampering ritual offered.

"All water is sacred, Bella. It is the fountain of life." Unlike her sisters, Esme spoke in a full voice, teaching, leading and guiding. "Your earliest self is of a being immersed in water, when you were one with your environment; you were mother and mother was you, you were the universe and the universe was you. Then came the day when you were thrust out from the enveloping waters, but the memory of that peacefulness in water remains. And when the strangeness of the world becomes too much to bear and the loneliness of your battle too heavy to carry, we still find solace in our watery past…"

"…and take a bath?" She nodded, exploring the world like a child answering and questioning in the same word.

"That's right, Bella." Esme smiled proudly as a mother. "It is the memory of the womb that comforts you in the water, that draws you to it, reassuring you that you are not truly alone, that underneath it all you are one with the universe, and one with the Creator. It is from the water that you are born a new creation.

"There is an ancient ritual of water that is celebrated by women throughout married life. It's called the mikveh. It is a special ritual preparing a bride for her new life." Esme's voice lifted and ran over the lightness of the swirling water. "It is one I would like to share with you, Bella."

"You mean take another bath?" Bella said, confused.

"This bath makes your body as pristine as the waters of the mikveh," she said, offering a large towel to preserve her modesty.

"The mikveh is a blessing. It is a sign of your new place in the universe. It's a renewal, a spiritual cleansing." Esme spoke reverently, but with each passing word radiance found her face as if light emanated from her spirit. "When the woman emerges, it is as though she is reborn, and the divine energy of creation can flow again."

"It is a ritual we all treasure, Bella," Rose whispered, as if unwilling to break the holy silence.

"Would you like to share this with us, Bella?" Esme offered no influence either way, hoping that Bella would feel the courage to decline without pressure to accept.

"I think..." The words stumbled on her soft voice, acknowledging the sacred mood.

"Come to my special place, my darling girl," Esme cooed, offering Bella the comfort of her ritual robe. "You are the Bride, the white light of our world, Isabella. Come and be born."

Beyond the sunlit room was another room, dark and cool, as if hewn from the earth. A deep sunken tub, lined in stone, was filled to the brim. The steam rose like ghostly fingers from the surface. The black marble lining the walls and floor glistened in the soft light of oil lamps. The flickering flames of the oil lamps danced, reflecting off every surface like a cave illuminated from within. The sounds of still water enveloped the senses. Steam rolled across the floor, magically warm to the step; a gentle fog rising from tile implied a communion with the warmth of the earth.

A few steps led into the water, like a pool. Esme explained it was partially filled with rainwater untouched by human hands. On top of the cold rainwater was another pool of hot water, where the actual bathing would take place. The waters touched, but they did not blend. The rainwater maintained its pristine quality.

"When you enter the water, spread your arms, and keep your legs apart. Immerse yourself so that every strand of hair is underwater. You must dunk three times. It is that simple."

"But…" she said, sputtering, unsure, "what do I do, exactly?"

"Do what you like, my dear. Pray, meditate, or just allow your mind to quiet. This is private time for you, just for you. Take as long as you wish."

The click of the door was startling and the silence rang out like a clanging bell.

Suddenly, I'm alone again.

I do not know what to do, so I let it just sort of happen... I submerge myself. Forgetting to pray, I instead concentrate very hard on immersing myself completely, from my toes to every strand of hair on my head, just as Esme instructed.

The water seems to wash away the anger I had once felt, and my tears mix with the water. I feel vibrant, alive, buoyant, and calm. It's like being in the womb.

I thought about Edward and how I loved him. I thought about my family and how generous and thoughtful they have been creating our celebration. I thought about my parents and the sting of leaving them to be changed.

As Bella stepped out of the tub, the women met her at the threshold of the door. Laden with warm towels for drying, they anointed her body with holy oils of cinnamon, clove, and jasmine.

Esme anointed Bella's head, her heart, her wrists, her ankles, her navel, and her pelvis with amber, and a delightful essential oil that sang of sweet oranges, cinnamon, and sandalwood. She said oils marked beginnings, endings, and other sacred moments.

"I bless you now as you move from maiden to woman."

"You are glowing, Bella," Alice whispered.

"I know," she giggled. "I don't think I can describe it…"

"Don't try, baby… the mikveh is for you and you alone. Brides for thousands of years have made this journey, and even if you are not Jewish, well, I am happy to know that you got the chance to experience it."

Bella noticed Rose seemed a little sad, perhaps thinking of how her bridal journey was so brutally cut short.

"Come have some water to drink. You must be thirsty," Rose said, forcing a smile that did not quite meet her eyes. "Maybe you need a little something to eat, hmm? Esme got that organic peanut butter you like…" Her face wrinkled with the sight of organic natural peanut butter. "I'm sorry, Bells. Cookies I can handle, but this is…"

Rose offered a plate of crackers and handed over the jar, quickly reaching for a paper towel to remove the slimy residue, but it was not enough, and she went to wash her hands.

When Rose returned to beginning the hair styling, Bella was silent; her eyes wide open like a doe - soft brown irises exposed to the bright lights of the makeup mirror - seemed as wide as saucers. They darted, skittish of every sound, every movement.

Staring at the mirror, the hair plastered to her face, the visions of the mikveh haunted her thoughts; the sound of Edward's voice, disembodied and strange, filled her head, and a feeling of panic began to build in her stomach. All the peace found in the waters, the blessing, and loving hands of the women evaporated as instantly as they had appeared.

"I am kidding myself, Rose," Bella grumbled. "I am not the princess of Egypt that I pretend… I am still the half drenched human who was nervously counting each second as if it would be the last."

"Don't be silly, Bells," she said. "It's just nerves…"

With each curl affixed and each strand of her wanton mane subdued, Bella noticed her heart racing, her breath coming in erratic patterns, and she felt less present in the moment. She was receding from the scene, like a fading memory.

Alice knew Bella's attitude was a reaction of flight as the pressures began to tick away with the clock drawing nearer to six o'clock. Alice, finally exasperated by Bella's emotional outbursts, bribed her like a two year old.

"Be patient, precious Bride. I have a present for you," sang the pixie, intent on lifting her spirits.

"Alice," Bella said somewhat sternly, "no more presents, pleeeeease!" She had done too much, even if her talents at the stock market had made money irrelevant. "First the designer gown from Paris-"

"Haute couture, actually…" she gently corrected.

"What?"

"Haute couture—made by hand. It's not just a designer gown… don't you watch Project Runway?"

"Whatever, Alice…" The explanation only increased the Bride's agitation. A handmade designer gown probably cost more than Charlie made in a year… or more! "And then a—what did you call it?" Bellagrowled in frustration.

"A trousseau…"

"Yeah, fancy French code for a trunk full of expensive clothes…"

"…and lingerie."

"…which were no doubt flown in from London…"

The image of a tsunami of charge receipts threatening to drown everything in its path was too much for the little human who shuddered every time Alice pulled out that little black credit card.

"London, and Belgium, and Milan," Alice sang, counting on her fingers. "Oh! And a few things from Tokyo!"

"Alice, you are not helping the situation…" Esme whispered.

"Why can't you understand that all these gifts make me crazy, Alice?" Bella exclaimed. "All I can see are price tags that I'm not allowed to see, and I can't help but think my underwear drawer could put a dent in the national debt!"

"I am sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to make you upset." A pang of guilt set in on a much-chagrined Alice confronted for the first time on her excesses in gifting.

"Okay, maybe I did go a little overboard…" she hung her head only long enough to be reminded of the complete contents of the trunk waiting for Bella in Edward's room.

"You know, there are a few darling things from New York, too..."

"I rest my case. You are completely insane!" Bella screeched.

Alice's happy grin melted into a blank stare. The star disintegrated; the pixie transformed from her kooky, happy go-lucky manic self into a sad, looking-at-her-shoes dejected street waif and the absolute incarnation of pitiable human being. Easily discounting her expression as a ploy, Bella remembered that as a vampire who had hidden her secret for almost a hundred years, Alice was a good actor. As the moments passed, the heaviness on the pixie's countenance did not waiver and Bella sighed, realizing that for the five hundredth time today, she felt compelled to apologize.

"Look, I know you mean well, Alice, but I think you're spoiling me. What if I turn into a greedy and bratty little sister bride-zilla demanding you take me to a fabulous shoemaker in Rome every other week? You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Bella," Alice's eyes lit up in ecstasy, "do you know a fabulous shoemaker in Rome?"

"No," Bella chuckled, rolling her eyes for emphasis. "I think you get what I mean, Alice."

The spell of dejection evaporated with the Bride's soft laughter. Nothing would stain for long the perfection of this day in Alice's eyes. Planning be damned! This was game day and long past time for the playbook. It was time to go with the flow.

"We are not going to talk about the clothes anymore, it is done." The pixie stood tall, closing her eyes as if to shut out all possibility of further discussion.

"Although it would likely cause spontaneous combustion of my very being, if you want to wear cut offs and flip flops for your lovely honeymoon, you go right ahead! Whatever you want, little Bride-doll, you are the boss. Lead your minions to suit your pleasure, however ridiculous and outrageous a whim it may be… your wish is our command."

"Somehow, I doubt it," Bella whispered to Rose, who merely shrugged. It was obvious this promise would be very difficult to keep.

"By the way, Bella," Alice said off-offhandedly, "that present you don't want… it isn't from me."

"It isn't?" Bella gulped her surprise and her eyes flared.

"Uh-uh." Alice tossed out the word like a spent cigarette while she busied her hands tiding up the table. Rosalie snickered in the background, knowing that Bella was predictably falling into the abyss of Alice's magic touch. Like a black hole, it was futile to resist the pull of one determined little pixie.

The idea that she had made a terrible assumption struck Bella with hurricane force. "Well, if it isn't from you…" Impatiently waiting for Alice, who appeared to be enjoying the bridal squirming, Bella could not wait for an answer. "Alice?"

"I suppose it is from Edward." Alice turned away with nonchalant boredom and she sighed, "To My One and Only Love—on our Wedding Day." Mercilessly, purring as she spoke, she tilted her head to read lettering like a cat reading its prey.

"So, you will have to address your complaints elsewhere I am afraid, Bride Doll, as I am only the delivery service this time," Alice whispered. Batting her lashes over fluttering lids, she ceremoniously pointed to a thin, square velvet box on the make-up table.

"Holy crap," Bella muttered, her eyes flaring. Cartier was embroidered on the velvet box in golden script, and she wondered how stupid it was to be pissed off about the price of underwear. A box of that size and shape could only mean one thing.

Expensive. Very expensive.

With the perfect balance of a tightrope walker, an envelope with a wax seal bearing the Cullen family crest precariously perched on the edge of the box. It bore the single initial, I.

"Rose, dear..." Alice grinned, the words in a singsong melody "...do you know what is in that lovely box from Cartier?"

"Not I, said the little red hen…" Rose giggled, drawing closer to admire the engraved script on the lid. "I wish I did. A velvet box means it has something special inside."

"Esme, do you know what Edward put in that box?" Alice said, channeling a new tactic.

"No, Alice, I can't say that I do," she said off-offhandedly over her shoulder, struggling to keep the smirk under control. "I suspect it is something very special."

"It really is too bad that we will never know," Alice sighed in the unnatural pitch of disappointment.

"Yes… and the card is so pretty, too," Rose moaned, disgruntled like a five year old denied a pony. "Oh, look! There is even a wax seal," she said, raising her eyebrows as if possessing some secret. "You know what that means, don't you, Bella?"

"That it's a love letter…?" she muttered, chewing softly on her lip as if tantalized by the candy counter.

"That's only kind of letter that needs sealing up," Rose cooed. "A secret letter for your eyes only."

"And now we shall never know," Esme piped in. "That is too bad. I was quite curious myself."

"Poor Eddie will be so disappointed," Rose whispered in Bella's ear. Bella shivered from the chill, but clearly, she was excited, too. Her lithe fingers skimmed over the velvet, provocatively tracing the lettering.

"Don't you want to do it, Bella?" she murmured, dripping sex with the sound. "I know you want to open Eddie's pretty box."

"Sure, gang up on the human day, I get it," Bella muttered. "Bribe the Bride."

"Just because we all agree doesn't mean it's a conspiracy or anything, Bella." Alice's eyelashes fluttered innocently.

"You know, Alice, you are one sneaky little vampire…" Bella said, shaking a wise finger in her direction. Esme and Rosalie reacted with raised eyebrows of agreement for that assessment.

The word stung the quiet heart of the one who thought the world ran on surprises and designer shoes.

"I only hope I become half the vampire you are!" Bella smiled deviously, but with genuine feeling that surprising the one who could not be surprised with a compliment was a present in of itself.

"I knew you'd see reason," Esme whispered.

"Only an idiot passes on Cartier velvet," Rose crossed her arms, in feigned disgust.

"Okay, okay," the bride sputtered excitedly, "I admit it. I want to open the letter… and the box too."

"Wunderbar!" Alice exclaimed. "What a patient and obedient little Bride-girl you have been, Bella! And so you get your prize, right now! You've earned it!"

In a lightening flash, the flat box was in Bella's right hand and the mysterious card in the left. Before she could look up, Edward's piano compositions began playing softly in the background, and the Bride found she was all alone with the mystery gift and a letter sealed with wax to hold secret the sentiment within. Carefully sliding a perfectly manicured fingernail under the flap, Bella cracked the seal open and the paper emerged, graced by the recognizable pen of her beloved, Edward.

Oh, My Sweet, My Isabella, on our Wedding day—

If there are words to express my emotions today - words to describe the delight I have in my ecstatic discovery of your being, words to convey my dreaming of the possibility of a life lived with you…

If there were words to express the depth and breadth of the joy I feel on this day, knowing that above all others you have chosen me, if there were words… it would be those penned more than a thousand years ago by the Sufi mystic, Rumi.

In his words I find the voice of my heart. I have been searching for you and now that I have found you, my life is fulfilled.

My love, you shall never question my love, today or tomorrow and on into eternity. I am yours truly and always, forever, Edward.

Looking for your face

Rumi

From the beginning of my life

I have been looking for your face,

but today I have seen it.

Today I have seen the charm,

the beauty, the unfathomable grace

of the face that I was looking for.

Today I have found you and

those that laughed and scorned

me yesterday are sorry

that they were not looking as I did.

I am bewildered by the magnificence

Of your beauty and wish to see you

with a hundred eyes.

My heart has burned with passion and

has searched forever for this wondrous

beauty that I now behold.

I am ashamed to call this love human

and afraid of God to call it divine.

Your fragrant breath like the morning

breeze has come to the stillness of the garden.

You have breathed new life into me

I have become your sunshine and

also your shadow.

My soul is screaming in ecstasy!

Every fiber of my being is in love with you.

Your effulgence has lit a fire in my heart and

you have made radiant for me, the earth and sky.

My arrow of love has arrived at the target.

I am in the house of mercy and

my heart is a place of prayer.

"Edward," she whispered hoping he was near enough to hear. "You breathe life in me, too. I love you so much…"

Through a torrent of tears, Bella opened the velvet box and she gasped when she found inside a necklace fit for a queen. Clusters of diamonds surrounded dark sapphires in a circle just long enough to graze her collarbones. Also cradled in the box were matching diamond earrings. The stones matched in color so clear, they appeared to be blue.

Desperately trying to forget that the original "crystal" Edward gave her as a charm was indeed a diamond of more than five carats, Bella could only assume that these jewels were "crystals" of the same diamond variety.

Her tears were still hot on her hot cheeks when she was startled by a knock at the door. She half expected it to be her Edward.

Carlisle's head peeked between the doors in a comical manner. "Special delivery for Miss Swan!"

His announcement was stranger than the look on his face as he stood aside.

"Mom!"

A/N: What the hell is going on here? Ritual bathing? Hallucinations of wishful thinking? Wax seals and diamonds? Open armed greetings for Renee? Has the Bride finally lost her mind or is the mania of emotions strong enough to eclipse the fact that she's mad at her mother!

Ah, Renee... Hang on to your foundation garments ladies, this is gonna be good!

All kidding aside, no matter how painful their conversation will be, no matter how inconvenient the timing, Bella knows she must find a way to get past it with her dignity intact. She just doesn't have any clue how ...

NEXT UP: Aug 13: The Women of the Reticule

Surrounded by all the women she loves as the clock strikes six, the Bride astonishes everyone by her eagerness to get married! But first she has to survive...quality time with her mother! Damn that pixie! Come check out the forum for previews and tidbits to tide you over till the next chapter posts... somewhere near the weekend, maybe? Finals week, give a beta a break!

In the meantime...please, press the button. Bella needs some loving... and so does Rosalind.