(I know, I suck)


Ransom Charles Cullen was born at 2:38 a.m. on a Tuesday. He was four weeks early and weighed in at five pounds and eight ounces. I'd never seen anything so perfect, all eighteen beautiful inches of him.

Carlisle and Esme missed his birth completely, they had traveled to New Jersey to visit Edward. Renee called to tell them I was in labor and they promised they were headed back right then, they just weren't quick enough. This had been their second trip east in the past two months. After she returned from her first trip she shared nothing about her visit or Edward with me. All she said was that everything was going to be alright. Yet her eyes told me something different, I saw her fear and disappointment, and her worry enveloped her whole self like a thick fog of dread. But I said nothing, I didn't press the information-on-Edward-button, although I thought not knowing might just kill me.

Instead, I focused all I had on Ran. He became both by distraction and my task. My labor was standard, by the book Dr. Aro had said. My water broke in the early dawn, my contractions were subtle but persistent. My pain seemed to be manageable, but gradually strengthening as I dilated. Once I got my epidural, it was smooth sailing. I think my fear was way worse than the pain. I had thought all along that I could handle this, not the actual birth part - but the being a mother part, a caregiver, a role model part. The belief that I could hold a tiny life in my hands and nurture it and mold it into the wonderful human being I wanted him to be. Yet my doubt came in waves, it was sometimes strong and suffocating. I couldn't get the idea that I was still a failure out of my mind. Having a beautiful, healthy, perfect baby boy didn't change that, especially since the hour was now that he was so still and innocent in my arms.

All I knew for sure was that I already loved him more than I had ever, would ever, love anything else. I could only pray that was enough.

/ / / /

My mother never leaves my side. It's all she can do to sit back and let me take the lead on caring for Ran, she even has to physically walk away a few times.

As I fill out my paperwork in my hospital bed, and I write 'Cullen' down as Ransom's last name. My mom doesn't question me, but I don't miss the way she raises her eyebrows and forces a smile.

"Some day I hope to get married, Mom. It wouldn't be fair to give him my surname of Swan when I'll end up changing my name and then we'd have to go through all the trouble of changing his name. It's just easier this way."

"Whatever you say, Bella." She looks toward Ran asleep in his bassinet in the corner of the room.

"It's for Esme and Carlisle too. They deserve it, this may be the only grandchild they ever have. It's kinda my gift to them, I guess." I shrug. I want to make it perfectly clear that this is NOT for Edward, but I'm pretty sure she knows that anyway.

"That's very thoughtful of you Bella, and you father is ecstatic that you used his old family name of Charles, but what about his first name? You've managed to keep it a secret this whole time. I think it's a very unique name, but what's the meaning behind it?"

I sigh and shake my head. "Not now, mom, if that's okay? I really don't want to talk about it..." On cue, Ran starts to squirm in his bassinet. I glance at the clock and notice that it's feeding time. Saved by the baby.

Score one for Ransom and I.

/ / / /

Esme cries the first time she holds him. It's a quiet cry, slow tears streaming down her cheeks. She can't take her eyes off him. I know the feeling all too well.

Then when I tell her his name, she lets out an audible gasp. She's silent for a few minutes but when she starts to speak again her chin trembles. "You don't have to Bella, I mean, I know how bad you were hurt by Edward and I understand if you may not want to give Edward any credit in making this precious thing."

"Esme, Edward may not deserve the credit but you and Carlisle do. You both have been so supportive and done so much for the both of us, I consider it an honor for him to carry on your namesake."

Esme doesn't say anything more, she simply nods and kisses his cheek.

Later that evening, she mouths 'thank you' as she stands over him sleeping in his bassinet.

I say it back to her, doubting that she knows how much she has helped me keep it together.

/ / / /

He's a good baby, he's not excessively fussy or irritable. His feedings fall like clockwork and so does his poo-poos. He's already sometimes sleeping five hours consecutively and from what I've read, that's a good thing.

My mom and dad are consistently comparing everything Ran does to what I and/or Jacob did at the same age. Most of the time, that makes me think of what Edward might have done also. It's like Edward is a ghost in my life - he haunts me. Always in my mind but never in my presence. Persistently out of my visual range but lingering constantly in my periphery.

At least I have the best of him.

Esme visits every other day. She showers him with attention, love, and gifts. Yet much to my dismay she doesn't mention you-know-who and I don't mention him either. It's almost like a game we play, who can pretend the most that Ransom doesn't look just like Edward. That they both don't have long limbs and slim fingers and even abnormally lengthy toes that rival a monkey's. Ransom even has that slight crook in his slender nose like that of Edward's which I had assumed had been caused by a fight or a fall, not a genetic hand me down through Edward's lineage. Now that Ran's eyes have started to lighten, the dark brown has melted away into such a likeness of Edward's, I can't help but stare into them every chance I get.

So beautiful.

Now that Ransom is nine weeks old; myself, Esme, and my mother agree to a babysitting schedule so I can start classes again. I only can force myself to be away from him for a few hours a week, so when the spring semester begins I make up some bogus crap about only school only having one class that has an opening. I figure Renee would call me out on my bluff, but instead she says it's up to me.

I know when the summer semester starts I'll have to take more classes, and probably get a part-time job, but for now I greedily spend every second I can with my little man.

"Mother, where is that other box of diapers I had stored in the closet?" I hurriedly toss crap from my view as I dig through the mass of junk on the floor of Ran's closet.

"I think we already used it, Bella." She yells back from the kitchen.

I stand and glance over at Ran's bed to make sure he hasn't spit up again. His stomach has been bothering him the past few days and he's been awful gassy.

"Are you serious? I just changed his diaper and we only have one left on the changing table!"

"Yes, remember? You said you would get some next time you went to class?"

Shit. She's right. I did say that and I intended to, but Jacob texted me that day and said that Ransom pooped so much it went up his back and mom was having to bathe him so I came straight home from school.

"Oh yeah! Well I guess we'll drive on over to the store to get some more, I need a few other things too!" I start packing my diaper bag for what looks like I am going to be gone a week instead of only the hour I will be out of the house.

"Be careful, and pick up some toilet paper please!" Mom yells back.

/ / / /

Walking the aisles of the supermarket, Ran starts to fuss so I pick him up and carry him like the spoiled little bugger he is. As I carry him it takes me forever to push the buggy because it is so awkward and heavy from the baby seat that's fastened to the front and all the items in the back. I stop and look around a lot to not look like an infant and a store buggy is kicking my ass.

I start to place Ransom back into his seat because I'm certain he's asleep when I hear…

"Bella?"

I spin so quick he wakes up and starts to whimper.

"Peter, hey." I choke out in part aggravation, part shock. I haven't spoken to him since the play even though I think of him every now and again. To be honest, I think there's this teeny-tiny molecule somewhere deep inside of me that misses him as a friend, I've just been too busy to acknowledge it.

He approaches me cautiously with his eyes on Ransom. I feel awkward and I'm not sure what to say.

His eyes dart from Ran to my face and back.

"So I guess it was true, huh? You really had Cullen's baby?" I can't decide if he sounds disgusted, aggravated, or sorrowful.

"Yeah, I did. And he's kinda perfect." I retort.

Peter shoves his hands in his jean pockets, "Well then, how are you two?"

"Who? Edward and me?" I ask dumbfoundedly.

He nods.

"We're not... I mean, he's... I..." I huff, "Edward's gone. I haven't seen him in a year or so."

"Shit, I'm sorry B. I didn't mean to pry or anything. I've heard things, I assumed it was all bullshit."

I notice that Peter looks worn out, his eyes are sad and the skin under them is so dark. His hair is long past needing a haircut and his clothes are wrinkled.

"Are you alright?" I take a step toward him and I reach out my hand to touch his arm.

He stares straight at me, unmoving. "No."

"Peter?"

"I don't want to burden you Bella-"

I cut him off, "Stop, I'm still your friend. You can talk to me."

I shift Ran to my other shoulder and start to pat his bottom.

Peter starts gnawing on the inside of his cheek and he runs his hand through his messy hair. "Bella, it's my mom, she's sick."

His words hit me dead center in my chest, like a dodge ball - hard enough to leave a sting and stutter my breath. I know how tight his family has always been, practically so close it both irritated me and made me jealous. This must be so hard for him.

"Your mother?" I question, "Oh Peter, what's going on?" I almost want to hug him, but it doesn't seem appropriate.

"Brain tumor, it's inoperable, and she's-" his voice starts to hiccup, his words lodged in his throat. "She's dying," he whispers.

Then the awkwardness I felt before dissipates and I use my free arm to wrap around his shoulder. He's wiping at his eyes, his head cast down. I give him a weak tug and tip-toe to say against his ear, "I'm sorry."

He hugs me back, his arms loose and gentle and I let him hold me there, right in the middle of the aisle near the canned vegetables. I pat his shoulder and close my eyes because I can almost feel his pain.

When he takes a small step back, I ask, "Have they said how long she has left?"

"No more than a month. It's really bad." He sniffs and pinches his nose. "I wanted to call you, I mean, I really started missing you when all this began. You always knew the right thing to say to make me feel better."

I manage a pitiful smile. "You should have called." Then I feel like I have to ask, "What about Angela? Are you two still together?"

He nods. "But it's different with her, she's not you. She doesn't get me like you always have."

"Peter," I say not knowing what else to follow that.

"I love her Bella, I do, but … shit! I don't know, sometimes it just doesn't feel right with her. Not like it did with you."

"You're just going through a lot right now. Don't do anything crazy or rash."

Peter points at Ran, "I'd always thought that me and you..." he nods, "...that it would be my baby on your shoulder."

"There was a time I did too," I confess, "but it wasn't meant to be. We grew apart."

He nods again. "Are you happy, Bella?"

I smile and kiss the wispy hair right about Ran's ear. "I"m good."

"Good." he repeats.

"But I want you to know, that I'm here for you. I don't want to step on Anglea's toes, but if you need me, I'm just a phone call away."

He hugs me again and I let familiars and used-to-be-s wrap us up.

"I really am sorry," I say against his cheek.

His arms squeeze a little before he releases me and steps back. He put his hand on Ransom's head, almost covering it completely. Peter smiles so sadly before he takes another step backward. "I'll see you soon."

I agree with a nod, "Call me," I encourage.

I watch as he walks quickly away right out of the store with empty hands.

I take a deep breath and inhale Ran. I briefly clinch him a little tighter before I put him down into his carrier.

I swallow hard the feelings and words and stuffiness that feels thick in my throat.

I turn the buggy hard to left to pick up those diapers. Suddenly, safe and home is all I need.

If I hadn't looked up I would have run all over her, Rose. She's standing not two feet from me, her hand clasped over her mouth. She looks at me, then Ransom, then behind me - the direction Peter left. I want to say something, everything, to her.

But right now words elude me, they slip out and scatter across the floor.

She slowly drops her hand and exhales a shaky breath before hastily barreling past me. She sits her shopping basket on the counter, without paying, and almost runs slap into the automatic door on her way out.

I think to shout "wait," but she's already outside before I find my voice again. I don't know what she saw, or what she thinks she saw, or heard, or knows.

I hate this feeling.

Lost. Unsure and unknowing. Reverted to the old Bella.

Ransom stretches, kicking my arm and I shake my head to stop myself from this, whatever it is.

It was just Rose, not Edward. She may not even still be talking to him.

But I still feel weak. First Peter's news and then Rose time-warping me back to Edward.

I glance outside and it looks darker than it should, like time skipped forward a few hours and night came early. There must be a storm on the horizon.

A shiver starts at the base of my neck and shimmies down my spine. I know the old saying about how rain showers bringing flowers, but no one ever said anything about how it brings memories and how it makes me feel so damn much.


"Many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away the hunger." ~Saiant Basi