Okay, soooo not my fault that I lied. About updating, I mean. I'd written over half this chapter by Christmas and I would have had it up and ready well before the 31st, but I've been away for the past three weeks unexpectedly and have hardly had time to shower.

Having said that, I hope 2011 brings you all health, happiness and prosperity :)

Note: This isn't the best update to grace you all with. Just so you're all sufficiently warned, it's a half-hearted attempt and I am aware of this.

SM OWNS ALL CHARACTERS. THE TRUTH HURTS.

37. Family Relations

Esme was waiting. With a special smile of her own on her face, she stepped forwards to meet me, elegantly done up in a way that made her beauty shine.

"Ah, Bella," she said warmly, and I realised that although her face was happy, her eyes were still slightly sad. "I'm so glad you came."

I smiled back at her; it was so impossible to feel awkward in front of such an accepting person. Edward was by my side but left just enough room between us so that it was not intrusive when Esme warmly embraced me, like we'd known each other for years and not just the few days it had actually been.

She smelled fantastic. Was that an odd thing to notice? Instead of dwelling on this thought, I leant back and said, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Then, realising this could sound rather callous considering the situation and what we were all gathered here for, I hastened to add in a jumbled manner, "Not. I mean, not like that. It came out wrong. I didn't mean—"

But Esme just brushed away my words with an easy wave of her hand, completely understanding. "Can I get you something to drink?" she offered kindly, allowing the river of our exchange to flow smoothly past my hiccup, for which I was grateful—if left up to me, we would have floundered helplessly in the rapids until we eventually all drowned.

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

Esme turned her head to look at her son, her lips turned up a little at the corners in mild amusement. It wasn't until she did this that I realised how her grief mingled in the background of her expression, weighing down her fine features even as she smiled.

"I thought you were never going to get here," she said to him, raising her eyebrows. "You looked very childish before, dancing around the place with Bella. If I hadn't known better, I'd almost think that you were a little apprehensive of her meeting us all again." The warmth in her face delivered the words with the grand force of a bubble; they were light little jibes that didn't mean a thing.

Still, Edward looked slightly abashed. "Sorry," he said, hands in his pockets as he looked down at his mother. "We were just—"

She brushed this away too. "I was only joking. To be honest, it's lovely for me to see both of you like that. Sometimes I think you kids grow up too fast."

I glanced at Edward, and I could see what she meant. He looked . . . Well, rather mature. Definitely older than seventeen, especially dressed in such formalised clothing; I loved seeing him in the dark colours he usually preferred, loved the way they looked against his features. Esme was definitely right. Half the time, I forgot we were both still in high school. I forgot how young I really was in the great scheme of things. I guess it wasn't until you were much older that you realised, reflecting back, how little you really were at the time things took place. Going through it—well, I felt ancient.

There was a moment of silence as I took her words in, let them sink through my consciousness; Edward stayed quiet, too, apparently having no ready reply to her words.

"Well," Esme said after a pause, looking to me, "Edward will have to bring you around to see Carlisle and I soon. It would be wonderful to see you under light circumstances for once."

I could feel Edward's apprehension at her words from beside me; ignoring him—honestly, his embarrassment was totally unnecessary—I smiled at Esme. She really was lovely. Under normal circumstances, I would have confirmed and agreed to her suggestion right away, but Edward and I still had a fair bit to sort through at the moment and I didn't think it was the right time to freely agree to a sort of commitment like that.

If this caused an air of awkwardness, Esme didn't show it. She just smiled all the more warmly and reached out to touch my arm briefly.

We were interrupted by the loud clearing of a throat, so loud I knew immediately it hadn't come from Edward. All three of us turned to face the noise, equally surprised, and I came face-to-face with Edward's older brother, Emmett, who was standing in front of a beautiful woman with a bit of a frown on his face.

"Emmett—" Esme began, but she didn't get to finish whatever it was that she was going to say before Emmett spoke up.

"Sorry to spoil this," he said, sounding like he was trying with some difficulty to sound calm and collected as he looked hardly at his mother, eyes skipping straight past Edward and me. He put on a brightly fake smile. "I am just here ever-so-lovingly to escort our beloved family member, the prestigious Medora-Fae, to your charming self, for said enchanting family member requested to speak to you immediately and seems incapable of finding you herself." He stepped back, allowing the woman to step forwards, who threw Emmett a haughty look over her shoulder.

"You know, darling, I liked you a lot better once upon a time when you weren't able to talk."

Emmett rocked back on his heels pleasantly. "Oh, I'm sorry, and how old where you back then? Thirty-five?"

The woman looked like she was about to retort with something, but Esme spoke firmly instead. "Thank you, Emmett," she said, looking to her eldest son with raised eyebrows, patting his arm comfortingly in a motherly way. "You may return to whatever it was you were doing before."

Emmett nodded, turned his head Edward's and my way, and winked at me as we caught eyes before turning around to leave.

Esme then smiled at the newcomer, and I tore my gaze from Emmett's retreating back, getting a good look at her for the first time. She looked out of place, here at this funeral, dressed so chicly in expensive materials, dark sunglasses blocking out most of her face. She wasn't by any means tall, but her presence was just as powerful as Emmett's had been before. And the thing that seemed wrong about her was the severe amounts of her perfection; looking at her for more than just a second, you could gaze right through her beauty and notice that it was all . . . wrong.

She was clearly younger than Esme, a fair bit younger, with lighter hair (the golden highlights to it shimmering as she moved) and sharper features. She wore an extremely dark purple, tight-fitting pencil skirt that looked more expensive than my entire outfit combined, teamed with an ivory blouse made from some sort of organza that had pearls sewn onto the front of it for embellishment. Nails matching her skirt, golden stilettos on her feet and a similarly hued clutch in her hand, she looked like a model stepped right off the pages of a Vogue magazine.

She made me look comparatively homeless.

"Esme," the woman said with a bit of a sigh, sounding a little put-out. "You just disappeared before, I had no idea where you went . . . Daddy's knocked into the table of crystal glasses and there's a bit of a mess. I didn't want to deal with it, you know how I am handling nasty caterers and—"

"Hold on just a moment," Esme interrupted smoothly, holding her hand up to stem the flow of her words. "I don't want to be rude, and I realise you haven't met Bella yet." Her upheld hand moved gently in the direction of my body, and I watched, transfixed, as this woman's face moved in turn with it until she was finally staring my way.

"Medora, this here is Bella, Edward's friend. Bella, this is Medora, my sister."

Sister? In what universe? That title seemed like a mistake, but I knew that I had seen the word fall from her mouth, seen her lips shape the vowels. I tried to not let my surprise show, but a part of me wanted to stop time itself so I could be free to stare in open astonishment as I tried comparing the two without anyone else noticing what I was doing.

The smile I gave her was small, shy; hers didn't even make it to her face. As Esme introduced me, Medora simply lifted her chin up to stare at me with absolute stillness, eventually pushing her oversized designer sunglasses up onto her head to get a better look.

"Charmed," she said after a pause, eyes still on me. And then the smile did come. It was short and tight and somehow overly-sweet. Her eyes flicked to Edward carelessly. "Good to see you, Edward, darling."

Edward was silent beside me, and I stiffened a little in surprise when I felt his hand reach out to rest at the small of my back. Strangely (and nicely) enough, he left it there, in front of his mother and his apparent aunt, hardly seeming fazed at all by the movement. I, on the other hand, was enjoying it immensely and was trying to control the muscles in my face from displaying this.

Medora drew her attention back to her sister.

"So . . . The whole Dad-incident? You'll sort it out? I told the man I would be back in a moment with someone to take care of it. I don't think he agreed, but I left, anyway." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "You might want to hurry."

Esme's brow furrowed a bit. "You couldn't have smoothed things over yourself? It's really no big deal, we just need to—"

"I couldn't understand a word that man was saying, honest, Esme," Medora insisted, her voice sweet and girly and whiny. "He must be Indian or something. Possibly Russian. I don't know. I got all confused, and flustered, and he was getting angry and…" She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders, and then pushing the strap of her Gucci handbag back onto her shoulder when it slipped. "You're an amazing angel; I knew you'd be able to help."

Esme sighed. "Well—"

"I'll take care of Daddy, alright?" Medora said, reaching out and grabbing Esme's hand. "Please, please, please? I'm here with Michael right now and he's probably looking for me . . ."

Esme nodded. "No, of course I will. I'll be there in just a moment."

"Argh, yes, thank you!" she gratified, swooping in a little to peck Esme's cheek. "I brought my dog along with me, too, but I got told at the beginning of the ceremony that he apparently wouldn't be allowed inside, even if he stayed in my arms, so Michael, being a dear, put him in his car. But I'm a little worried about the poor thing, he's not been the same since I came down for a visit last so I think Michael and I might be ducking out soon, a little early." She stepped back, slipping her sunglasses down to cover her face once more. "I'll let Daddy know, but then I'm off."

"You will make sure our father's with Madge first, okay?"

"Sure, sure, thanks again, darling, the mess is this way—"

"Just a minute." Esme turned to me with an apologetic smile, and Medora paused, seeming surprised, apparently having forgotten my existence as she stared on in the background, hands on hips.

"I'm so sorry our conversation has been cut short, Bella," Esme said sincerely. "If it seems rude that I'm—"

"We can talk to you later, Mum," Edward pointed out.

"I know, but I don't want to force the pair of you into that. This atmosphere can get a little stuffy after a while; nobody would hold it against you if you wanted to leave, get out of here." She smiled. "Go have fun, okay?"

"So how do you know each other?" Medora added, stepping in a little closer, her hands now changing to cross impressively over her equally impressive chest. Her eyebrows were raised in identical arrogance to her chin as she peered over at Edward and I; she displayed just enough casual disinterest and distaste that the question could not be mistaken for politeness or, heaven forbid, real interest.

"Oh, just school, really," I answered her, refusing to be intimidated by this woman, especially with Esme and Edward by my side. I looked up into Edward's face for confirmation. He looked down at me and smiled.

This seemed to finally pique a slight flash of real interest in Medora. "Oooh, lovely, so you'll know Tanya, won't you?" she said without so much as a smile, eyebrows inching up her forehead even more.

"Medora," Esme murmured quietly, but Medora's eyes didn't even flick so much in her direction.

This took me aback completely; of all the things I imagined falling out of her mouth, this was way off base. How did she even know who Tanya was? Judging by the three frozen expressions around me, this was clearly a loaded question that I didn't know how to correctly read.

"I—Um, well sure, I know her but . . ."

"Tanya has nothing to do with anything," Edward spoke up, and his voice had finality to it. Esme gave me a small, vague smile, and I had a feeling that she wasn't quite on the same page as Edward seemed to be, either.

Medora, though. Medora seemed to pick up things from Edward's tone that even I didn't. Her eyes narrowed on what could presumably be the protectiveness I'd detected in Edward's words, her face an unreadable mask of harsh beauty.

She tilted her head up, half shrugging one shoulder in false disinterest. "Whatever, then, darling. Just remember the lovely we conversation we had last time we were together, alright? There are a lot of girls . . . that aren't half as pretty as this one." She gave me a sickly sweet smile, said, "Bella", pushed her sunglasses up with the hand that possessed a large diamond ring and with a twirl of hair was already moving away from us all.

Esme glanced at her sister, already a few metres away, and then shook her head, giving me a bewildered expression when she looked back at us. Then, apparently in a bit of a time restriction, shrugged it off and pulled me in close for a brief hug.

"Hope to see you again soon, Bella," she murmured. "Thank you for coming."

After reaching up to touch Edward's cheek, Esme was gone, too.

And when Edward looked down at me, the lines on his forehead still present from whatever had gone on with his aunt, I barely thought at all as I reached up to smooth them away with my fingertips.

"I'm sorry about her," Edward said lowly, and I knew to whom he was referring to. His hand caught mine and brought it back down, squeezing my fingers gently as he tugged one side of his lips up in an empty smile. "I told you she was horrible."

I nodded slowly. "Mmm. She scares me," I admitted. "It's embarrassing, but it's the truth." I gave a small grin and shrugged. "But it's not like it was that bad."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, and I let out an uncharacteristic giggle, clearly giddy from just being around him without an audience.

"Come on," Edward said decisively, pulling me a little closer. He seemed to have gotten over his qualms about keeping his distance from me, being careful and picky over his words. I was glad, because he wasn't really like Edward when he was filtering himself like that in front of me. "Let's get out of here."

"Now?" I asked bewilderedly.

He nodded. "Yes, definitely now. Let's just . . . up and leave. Go for a drive. Go somewhere. It doesn't matter what or where, I just think . . ."

But he didn't need to say anything more, because I understood him perfectly and the reasons behind his sudden desperation to run away from the world around us. And I knew it would be hard, talking about the things we really needed to sort out, but I knew that I could do it; it all came down to how hard you wanted something. And I didn't think I'd ever wanted something more before in my life.

So when I agreed, I was smiling. And as we said a quick and short goodbye to Carlisle, who, as I clumsily delivered my condolences, surprised me by kissing me on the cheek with a strong and saddened fervour, I felt both anxious and prepared for what we needed to do.

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My shortest update ever, especially after such a stretch of time, but I'm scared of losing your interest so I thought it was better to give you this than nothing at all. If I'm wrong in my judgment, do forgive. However, the next part is already half-written so it REALLY, TRULY shouldn't be that long before it's up, too.

Is there anything in particular you want to see happening? (The storyline's in my head, but I'm just curious.)

Promise that after the next chapter, Edward and Bella will have everything sorted out perfectly between them ;)

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Just proof that I have actually written a large chunk of the next chapter:

I stared across at him, at the planes of his face, the dips and curves and lines, so harsh and hard and impossibly soft at the same time. Particularly soft, especially right now as he stared back at me, not speaking a word either but simply just looking. The warmth from the fire we sat near bathed both our faces in a bit of a dim orange glow, and had me feeling relaxed and at home, away from the rest of the world, tucked up in the private little corner where it was possible to forget about everything and anything and allowed us to simply be with each other. It seemed a lifetime that we sat like that, in perfect harmony with one another, perfect sync, sharing a silent exchange that went unsullied by voiced conversation.

Of course, moments like those always come to their own little end. I suppose it made it all the more precious while it lasted, something to treasure and admire because it never really could be infinite; life made other plans.

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