Disclaimer: I do not own nor make profit off of Twilight. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Summit Entertainment, etc.
A/N: This is an insert-an-OC story that will veer from canon timeline, but the actual canon events will retain great similarities.
Inspirations Blog: farinspirations(d)tumblr(d)com – Look for the 'Welcome' link in the side menu that explains how the blog works.
ChaoticH: So glad you liked it! Thank you for reviewing.
MissJessWalker: It's wonderfully fun to sit down and not only create the plot of the story, but to continue melding in new events to the previous situations as the story develops. Thank you so much for your review!
Mina: Thank you for reading.
Guest: Bella and Mireille both have wonderful roles in this story and both bring advantages to the Twilight world. THanks for reviewing.
BTS Army15: Aha, I have succeeded! Thank you for reviewing!
Merrick Whitlock: Aw, Mireille's alternate future is a horrible one, it's true. Thank you for your review!
Musikrulesok: Always happy to write Edward's POV. He has a fascinating mind to explore. Thanks for your review!
diamondeyes323: Yes, Mir is Edward's best friend and they confide in each other. And of course Carlisle had to give Edward a little nudge to make him see that, hehe. Thanks so much for reviewing!
Anonymous: I loved adding in that part exploring the relationships. I needed a new clarification for myself as well as for the characters and you lovely readers! Thanks for your review!
Tania Game: I like your logic! :) Edward and Carlisle never cease to be my favorites to write and read. Thank you so much for reviewing!
xenocanaan: Thank you!
Honey Evans: Mir opening up is such a challenging thing for her to do - she usually has to make herself do it. Todd's potential actions were unthinkable and Mir needs every one of the Cullens' unique places in her life to face it., but especially Edward and Carlisle. Thank you so much for your review!
Jillian2232115: Thank you so much! I'm pleased to share the story with folks. Glad to have you reading along!
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Notes:
Some description of violence/injury in this chapter, but nothing graphic. Prince of Peace Lutheran Church is an actual church in Forks, WA, but all of my descriptions have been – and will be – fictional. The restaurant mentioned in the chapter is fictional, but inspired by Cooking Carberrys and Eh! Burger, local restaurants in the first major town you will later read about. Park Cemetery is also a real location in the second major town you will read about.
Near the end of the chapter, there are several references to For A Reason: Inauguration, Chapter 28: Isolation.
Dedicating this chapter to ColdOnePaul, who brought to my attention the concept of cognitive dissonance. Thank you!
Much as I had hoped to have my Christmas chapter up right now, life conspired against me. Regardless, here is the next chapter and back in Mireille's POV! Merry Christmas, one and all!
Song Inspiration:
Wonderful Life by Smith & Burrows
Previously – EdPOV; Edward considered Esme fears, Carlisle arrived, Edward/Carlisle talked Mir darkness, Ed recalled Mir/Carlisle connection. Edward pressed Carlisle to help, admitted Mir blocked him. Carlisle said Edward help Mir, Edward surprised, Carlisle said Edward Mir's confidante, left Edward to think, Edward reconsidered Mir family connections. Carlisle packed up, Edward realized tickets/Carlisle wanting trip for Mir. Carlisle denied, Carlisle/Edward debated, Carlisle said Mir wouldn't feel genuine. Edward decided to help Mir. Snow day, Alice encouraged Edward, Cullens left. Edward approached Mir/Mir unlike herself, Edward pressed for Mir to talk. Mir offered book, Edward realized book made Mir change, Edward read book. Edward horrified/angered, begged Mir open mind, Mir showed thoughts, Edward comforted/realized Mir best friend. Cullens back, Mir/Edward talked book, Edward realized Alice/Mir 'game'. Edward told book of Mir other life if not in Twilight. Cullens asked events, Ed hestitant/Mir admitted would meet Todd again, father would admit guilt in Amy death, Mir would rage. Mir/Ed couldn't explain, Rosalie read book/explained Todd would have killed Mir. All read book, Rosalie stopped Carlisle/Esme seeing photos. Mir admitted couldn't talk of it, Carlisle compared to Thomas, Carlisle comforted Mir. Cullens discussed book, Edward told of S.K. Jackson, Cullens discussed Mir impact. Cullens hid Wilderness w/Twilight.
Chapter 20: Aftermath
Leah Clearwater's birthday celebration, and all the problems associated with it, had felt as though it took everything within me to make it through sane and healthy, but it was certainly not one of the most terrifying things I had ever lived with.
From a physical perspective, I had experienced nothing more terrifying in my life than being attacked by Vanessa Travis and Greg Overman in Forks, or nearly becoming prey to Peter and Charlotte in Philadelphia.
Mentally and emotionally, I didn't see it as an exaggeration to add one considerable circumstance to my array of terrifying experiences. Paul attempting to kill Edward in a nightmare – or even placing one paw in that direction – seemed to me a logical item to include in my list.
Yet after facing the hellish knowledge which had blackened my night beyond recall, facing off with the pack and protecting Edward from my terrible nightmare had allowed me a merciful opportunity to block out suffocating truths with startling ease.
In the aftermath, I had tried so hard to return to myself.
Sharing my nightmare with Edward seemed a good start, as did our camaraderie in the minutes before I fell asleep.
In the morning, having slept a full and dreamless sleep, everything about being back in the Cullens' territory became utterly surreal. I was absolutely surrounded by support. Seven people loved me and cared for me; made sure I was safe and healthy and whole.
School following so soon on the wings of surreal reality had only further prevented clarity and left me frozen in a state of perpetual unrest. With Edward once more able to hear every thought in my head, there had been no time to think on my newfound insight over what might have been. I needed to sort out the chaos in my brain, but I couldn't open my thoughts to Edward. I needed to lean on someone for support, but I couldn't sort out my thoughts enough to talk about it. Instead, I buried it – or attempted to.
Every vampire gave allowances for my sudden reticence that first afternoon. Paul, they surely thought. Paul was the reason I felt so distant.
No doubt every one of the Cullens hoped that to be true.
Jasper suspected the real reasons went deeper, of course. Carlisle guessed the real reasons were unrelated to the wolves, of course.
And Edward just knew, of course.
No doubts, no hesitations, no second-guessing; Edward knew, without doubt, there was far more to my emotional severance than the situation in La Push. How well Edward understood me… seeing every chink in my armor before I even saw it myself.
The rest of the Cullens, poor souls, tried to give me leeway and lenience, caught up in the hope I would soon return to normal.
I tried with all my might to feel normal again… but how could someone feel normal after realizing their father despised them all of their life?
Despised them so badly, in fact, that he would attack them.
Despised them so badly that he would end their life.
How could a father do such a thing?
The question rattled around my mind like a freight train, breaking through every barrier laid before it on the tracks. Helplessly, I thought of Carlisle and wondered even more fiercely at the wretched dichotomy of my parallel lives.
While I grieved the actions of my birth father, another man cared for me and comforted me in a way he should never have needed to.
As mightily as Carlisle loved me, he had no obligation to do so; he was not required to offer me love as a father for his daughter. There was another man who should have loved me in Carlisle Cullen's pure, unconditional manner… and that man was Todd Holden.
That man, that father – who should have made me feel wanted and needed, as Carlisle did every day – was the very same man who would have killed me in another life.
Killed… what a weak, pitiful word for what could have happened to me if some impossible power had not intervened.
The brute force – the sheer savagery – of what my estranged father might have done at one time… It truly bore no imagining. Thinking about the terrible event, even if it had never actually happened, nearly drove me out of my mind every moment I held the knowledge in my heart.
To have committed such a heinous act, drunk or not, a person would have to contain either a deep level of hatred or an unforeseen level of madness.
Unless some wildly improbable circumstance had driven Todd insane in the two years following Amy's death, then my father must have hated me intensely. That was the only reason I could fathom for any father to be capable of such thorough destruction of his only child.
As if this knowledge was not enough, as if reading my own violent death at the hands of my biological father was not enough, unimaginable images followed the horror of the written word. Photographers had left no stone unturned at the crime scene of my would-be death.
I hardly recognized my own face and figure beneath the wreckage left behind. Had I looked that way out in the woods of Forks, I wondered? It was a strange, but oddly rational thought to entertain.
Edward's surreptitious wince told me it was not a welcome line of thought, rational or not.
Despite the horrible memories which would now hold sway in our minds, I relished the easy freedom of opening my mind to Edward once again.
Reverting to a noiseless presence at my side, Edward had let the rest of the family carry themselves away with distracting conversation of the wolves. After learning of my dastardly alternate future, I could hardly fault them for returning to an ironically comfortable and easily-understood topic. No one had even left my room, standing around the window seat and – in Emmett's case – dragging over my sofa. The bulky vampire nearly drew a tiny, minuscule smile from my lips. Nearly.
Given a few plain, uninterested words at the beginning of the conversation, Carlisle had joined Edward in silent existence at the background of a mostly useless discussion.
As had become routine for hours already, my thoughts focused on Carlisle with substantial concentration.
Thomas Cullen had harmed his son all his life, and as Carlisle told me mere hours before, the pastor would not have hesitated to destroy his only son in a fury of fire. Would he had felt any regret when his son screamed in death?
However blurred and improbable, the image of Carlisle suffering two fires at the same moment, burning in two very different styles of death, sent a shiver up and down my spine. I never wanted to imagine Carlisle's death again; the film version of Breaking Dawn had shown me enough of that.
Forcing the thought away, I refocused on the man himself and all he had been through, both in human and vampire life. Admiration for Carlisle's strength and perseverance never left my sight, but after the way I had handled the realizations of my old life, respect climbed higher and higher.
I wanted to call upon such fortitude in my own outlook; I wanted to face the very idea of Todd's hateful violence and come away strong and independent of his cruelty.
If I stood on the college campus that very hour, could I look at the very place where my maimed body would have lain and come away fearless? More than once I had learned to imbue myself with a steadfast spirit after terrible odds broke me down.
Heaven only knew if I could do so again.
"Why don't we find out?" Edward remarked directly to my thoughts, not at all startling me as he did the rest of the family.
Sharing Edward's kind, dark eyes for a seeming eternity, I came away revived in some impossible way. Was it any wonder his pleading had finally encouraged me to open up? Was it any shock that my gift pushed me to reveal my secrets at the very moment Edward offered his greatest understanding? Edward tended to have that effect on me when I needed it most.
"Find out what?" Carlisle inquired, interest renewed as he looked down at me, still cradled at his side.
"Mireille would like to visit Lewiston," Edward explained, keeping it short and clean.
"What on earth for?" Esme started, eyes tightening with worry.
"In emotional circumstances, when Mireille's current life emphasizes or somehow parallels an event in her former life," Carlisle stated with a tilt of his golden head, "I believe Mireille requires an obvious comparison to heal from the old wounds."
"Cognitive dissonance," Rosalie and Jasper spoke in unison, mutually catching each other's eyes with an emotion I failed to name.
"It seems so," Edward agreed, focused on me far more than on any of his family.
"I can't explain it," I murmured low, almost afraid to admit the difficulty of blending my new life with the old. "I just feel like I have to go."
"Your gift or your natural instincts?" Rosalie asked, eyes keen on mine.
Shrugging, I answered through a wave of assurance from my ability. "Both."
"I'll call about tickets, then," Carlisle offered, rising and disappearing from the room while a new debate incurred over who would be going with me to Lewiston.
Two hours, three tickets, and one long debate later, Carlisle and Edward sat with me on an early evening flight bound to Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport.
I did feel a little less anxious at the prospect of having only a small and highly-relative audience to observe my emotions in this precise situation, although the real reasons for the divided family hardly revolved around that particular feeling.
Most importantly, no one wanted our trip to be known around town or in La Push.
By the generous rescheduling of Dr. Gerandy and Dr. Snow, Carlisle had long ago planned vacation time from the seventeenth of December until the fourth of January, so no one would expect him to be working. That made it easier to take a sudden trip out of town without any undue notice.
Just in case the wolves felt paranoid of the Cullens preparing to change me, the family decided some of them had to stay behind in Forks for this trip. To avoid the wolves becoming panicked, most of the family hoped leaving with a few vampires – rather than seven – might be helpful.
Seeing as Carlisle was one of the vampires leaving with me, Edward and I felt such hopes to be a bit foolish. If the Quileutes followed their paranoia to its logical conclusion, Carlisle was exactly the vampire to be worried about. After all, Carlisle held the greatest capability of making me a vampire at any given moment.
In spite of that logic, I undeniably needed Carlisle to come with me. If cognitive dissonance truly dominated my experiences as the doctor guessed, I would certainly require the company of the father who cared for me in order to face the possible future of the father who didn't.
Thus our trip necessitated a high level of caution so we could hopefully evade the wolves' keen attention until we returned from Michigan. Had I been any less preoccupied, I might have enjoyed the circus of our vigilance. Carlisle drove the Volvo north with our luggage and moved through Beaver and Sappho, then eastward through Port Angeles, following the 101 and a variety of other highways down around Tacoma and back up to Seattle to park at the airport. Edward and I followed in the Mazda thirty minutes later, although at Edward's speeds, it took only half the normal time.
On the specific inclusion of Edward's company for the trip, I had no truly practical reason to offer for my decision. Granted, his mind-reading ability could be helpful against nomads or human suspicion, but all I could think of was his sweet, gentle behavior that very morning. This was not to mention the look of stubborn rebellion in those topaz eyes when Emmett suggested Edward staying in Forks might help them more effortlessly avoid the wolves.
No one seemed surprised by my abrupt choice, least of all the burly vampire I had interrupted before he could even finish his sentence.
Given the need to keep a large party at the house – in case of a sudden slew of Quileute fear – my companions were left to a party of two. Between the gifts of Alice and I, the skies seemed clear of any drama, but we all knew how quickly things could change with the mercurial Quileute pack.
Pushing away a well of panic at the thought of anyone being separated from each other under even the remotest of possible brawls, I accepted Edward's calming grip with fingers of human iron as we began our descent somewhere above Richfield, Minnesota.
The connecting flight to Sawyer International Airport somehow seemed longer than the first, despite being only a third of the length. Perhaps because we were now so incredibly far away from the others or perhaps because of what I intended to do in Lewiston, but I couldn't tell which.
From Sawyer International, Edward made the drive to the Cullens' Munising house in twenty minutes compared to the hour it might normally have taken. Had Carlisle not restricted his son's speed, it would have taken even less time.
Staying in Munising, rather than at a hotel nearer to Lewiston, had been another significant part of our cautionary process. There would be no need to put our information out there for someone to find through credit cards or hotel logs, since the Cullens already owned the eleven acre Munising property and we need only drop by the empty house like an old friend.
Between Carlisle and Edward, any lingering dust or debris inside the house disappeared even as I watched their blurred forms move around me. Knowing my help would be unnecessary, I settled for examining the home's interior, something I hadn't been able to do on the road trip. A pass by the front of the house – and a mention for its large, crafstman-style porch – and we had soon driven onward to more exciting outings.
Considering the Cullens only left Munising little more than a decade prior, the soothing green house still had some livable furnishings safely stored away, but nothing outfitted the rest of the home other than paint and framed art. Beige paint covered most walls throughout, but I noticed shades of green in the artwork and on the occasional showcase wall. Brass and gold accented everything in the house, from door handles to cabinet hinges to bathroom fixtures. The tacky metals were far from my favorite, but they complemented the interior's cedar construction fairly well on the whole. Its combination with green art, beige walls, and white trim offered a surprisingly peaceful aesthetic overall.
Grateful for so small a mercy, I released a long and tired sigh. The next day would be difficult to face and life wouldn't feel so daunting with a calming atmosphere to return to.
"Then I do believe I chose the correct room for you," Edward spoke quietly from behind me.
Turning with less surprise than I normally engendered at such a sudden appearance, I smiled blandly at the lean vampire. "Which room is that?"
"Let me show you."
At the very top of the house, Edward walked me into an attic half the size of the Cullens' current one. Yet for that comparison, the room still spread across a broad stretch of space. Cedar beams added a warm, masculine feel to the beige wallspace in-between. Windows composed the entire wall of one end of the room, with a set of double doors opening unto a decent-sized balcony.
"What do you think?" Edward asked of me.
"I love it," I admitted, admiring the open feel to the room. "Was this yours?"
Nodding, Edward answered, "Esme was kind enough to allow me first pick of the rooms. I prefer nature views and direct outside access."
"The balcony is a nice change," I agreed. "In Forks, you have a door opening into nothing but air. I know, vampires don't need steps, but still…"
Chuckling, Edward shook his head. "For a human, I suppose that would be incredibly unnerving."
"Yes," I agreed again, mouth quirking as another thought came to mind. "I always seem to steal your room."
"Not a problem, I assure you… Carlisle is searching storage right now for furniture," Edward explained, knocking his head back towards the lower levels. "I don't think we have a bed, but we might have a sofa."
"That'll do for two nights." I shrugged off the minor inconvenience.
"I thought it was less daunting to return to a calming atmosphere?" Edward questioned, brows lifted. "Difficult with only a sofa, wouldn't you agree?"
"But workable," I countered.
Indeed, Carlisle found only a sofa in storage, but it didn't have any terrible smells – courtesy of Esme's careful storage – and it was quite comfortable. Edward finally dropped our argument when the thought of comfort crossed my mind, letting me prepare for bed without comment.
Unsurprisingly, Edward had brought his smaller stereo system along solely for my ease. Edward's music choice did surprise me, however; the easy flute melody a direct contrast to Beethoven.
Catching my eye across the room, Edward murmured, "I thought it might be easier if the music is something you won't mind being maligned by tomorrow's emotions..."
Smiling to myself in silent gratitude for Edward's thoughtfulness, I nodded and made myself comfortable for the night.
With the bright, snow-covered morning came not only anxiety, but outright fear of the moments yet to come that day. So twisted were my thoughts and feelings, I couldn't fully appreciate the peaceful view from the high and wide windows once I had showered and dressed in blue and green for winter's chill.
My consternation drew Edward to my side in a breath of time, hand outstretched for mine. No hesitation beleaguered my acceptance of the offered grasp. I had relied on Edward almost mindlessly for a full day already and I saw no need to stop now. He had been my lifeline.
"Carlisle has a small surprise for you," Edward changed the unspoken topic, voice remarkably delicate in the quiet of the house.
Wordless, I allowed Edward to guide me downstairs and into the comparatively smaller kitchen to find Carlisle embroiled in a silent rendition of Esme's usual tasks in Forks.
Beyond all comprehension, a laugh broke free from my throat in one quick burst; brief and quiet, it was true, but a laugh nonetheless. The sound startled every one of us into a frozen moment of staring.
"You made me breakfast?" I marveled at last, small smile lasting much longer than my short, unexpected laugh.
"I thought it appropriate," Carlisle admitted, lips curving into a soft grin. "Esme does so love to make breakfast for you. Any other meal, you have free reign, but not breakfast. Hopefully I have managed to reach at least some of Esme's standards this morning."
"I wouldn't doubt you."
Puffing a tiny laugh, Carlisle set out the last of a simple, healthy breakfast for me. Turning to the used cookware, Carlisle left Edward to his ritual observance, efforts to indulge a level of calm I never fully felt.
For the second time in a year, Carlisle made his way along County Road 612 and took a parking spot at the library of Rocheville College. My nerves rammed into overdrive as we stood from the car, a marked increase from the spike I earlier felt as we had once again turned onto County Road 612.
Without Jasper's influence, I felt no unnatural calm to supersede the wild anxieties tunneling in my chest. Carlisle and Edward served as my best protection against chaotic fright. I could hardly doubt the strength of their efforts, however. Indeed, during our slow walk across that lonely stretch between the library and impossible fate, Carlisle's arm across my shoulders and Edward's hand in mine became anchors of reassurance.
Memories of the night my life changed came rushing back in a swell of clarity – something I hadn't allowed myself to feel on our first visit to Lewiston.
Five sidewalks coalesced before us in a central meeting place. A single, crooked evergreen tree stood tall in front of my eyes, even as I remembered the madness of jumping at apparent shadows that night in November. It had seemed so ridiculous to keep fretting at every noise. Most animals would keep to the woods, where food and water were more abundant. Most people would be visible dozens of yards away and much more easily avoided if need be.
In light of recent knowledge, I felt far less self-conscious of my wary actions.
Todd had been insanely close to me on my isolated path. Not dozens of yards away, but mere feet from my own as I reached this self-same evergreen with clear eyes and then looked away to my feet for reasons unknown to me.
Had I not been so preoccupied, so engrossed in my thoughts as I stared down at the dull sheen on ragged black flats, I might have noticed my own drunken father stumbling towards me in the dark of night.
Did Todd see my body disappear from the world, divining itself into the ether and then onward to another universe? Did he lose his mind as he watched his only child vanish – the event for which I had no human explanation? Perhaps Todd's drunkenness had enabled him to believe me a figment of his imagination.
Mere seconds or minutes afterward, if I had not been spirited away, I would have encountered Todd. The terrible scene would have played out like a horror film, giving no chance of a happy ending to the characters who fought so hard to survive what life had coldly thrown their way.
Given the insane, drunken opportunity, my father would have murdered me with his own two hands. Cold-blooded, insane, senseless… these were the only fitting words for Todd's actions.
How could a man hate his child so much? I failed to comprehend the question with any reasonable answer.
Todd had a responsibility to the child he fathered – to the child forced to grow up in a loveless household, partly of Todd's own making. Where Todd had failed his child in the uttermost, Carlisle had taken up the mantle of responsibility for a child to which he had no obligation other than common human courtesy.
Strange and fortuitous, I thought, that Carlisle had unconsciously recognized the similarities between us. Our fathers were both angry men prone to violent tendencies, willing to murder their child under forms of madness.
Yet the children those men produced had grown to behave entirely opposite that rage and abuse. Between Carlisle and I, we pitied even our enemies. We fought where need be, but not if we didn't have to. At the end of it all, we were willing to offer a chance to change. As Carlisle first tried to reason with Aro in Breaking Dawn rather than do battle. As I had done with Vanessa by asking to have her father sent to her side rather than let the vicious, messed up young woman rot alone in imprisonment.
Vanessa truly failed to understand what grace and privilege she had received when Keith pledged himself to her side even unto the ends of her bad choices. How lucky she was to realize her biological father loved her and would never abandon her.
Odd to think of the similarities between Vanessa and I, particularly after seven months free of her vitriol, but I couldn't help the influx of wonder.
Two girls grew up with loveless parents, two girls grew up knowing they were unwanted, yet where I had burrowed inward with a sense of worthlessness deeper than my sense of self, Vanessa had grown outward with an engorged sense of worth that overshadowed her self respect. In the end, we had both found the unconditional love of a father. Where Vanessa pushed Keith away with a complete lack of trust, I leaned into Carlisle's love with so much faith I didn't know what to do with it all.
Memory assailed me of the countless times Carlisle had held me against my fears and pains, and raised me up with warm affection in spite of Todd Holden's frozen self-absorption every day of my childhood.
At least, in the grand scheme of things, Todd never had the opportunity to truly do what Sienna's story described. For I had disappeared before the events ever took place.
Breath swept in and out of my lungs, heavy and unbalanced under the contrast of my two lives.
Was this the concept of cognitive dissonance then – feeling the burden of an old and distorted life compared to the healing restoration of a new one? I could only assume so. Yet why, then, would I feel so torn between those two lives, when one appeared so utterly preferable over the other?
Perhaps, as I had learned from Vanessa Travis, dissonance of this kind was not so much a feeling as it was a choice. To continually choose the old life kept one eternally dissonant with the new life. The new life has no chance to truly begin, thereby leaving an individual with chaos and unhappiness in regards to the business of living itself.
Most people never chose chaos and unhappiness in those situations, of course, but when the old life presented such incomprehension, it was in the nature of a human being to desire understanding. Human nature begged for answers, begged for truth.
Sometimes those answers – those truths – were impossible to find.
In this new world, I had no more access to Todd Holden's reasons for cold, unfeeling fatherhood than I had access to time travel. Even if I had such access, surely it would never change anything. Todd had been cold and selfish long before the events that could have taken place on the grounds of Rocheport University. The madness of his actions had been a mere extension of his prior self.
Strange, I thought, that such a man could have been produced from the grandparents who had loved me so deeply for such a scant number of years.
Yet again, it also reminded me vividly of the very dichotomy I had reconciled between Carlisle and Thomas, and myself and Todd. Parents had raised their child in a particular manner and that child had grown into the polar opposite of their teachings.
How sad to think a boy adored by his mother and father had turned away from them when they needed him, only to turn around and also abandon his own child when she needed him. Perhaps he didn't genuinely hate me, but Todd had certainly never loved me; he had never been the father his child deserved.
In little more than a year, Carlisle had made me feel like his own. I was a daughter who had a father. Not a biological donor, but a spiritual caregiver.
From the very beginning, Carlisle and I connected in ways neither of us fully understood. Despite lacking a total understanding, we accepted what was given and made more room in our hearts for something we both needed.
Wasn't that ultimately the most important thing in my life now? Carlisle's love outshone Todd's apathy in every way possible.
There was no reason to live in the pain of Todd's emptiness any longer. He was gone from my life forever and all I could do was move forward with the loving father God had given me after so long wishing for one.
Turning against the arm laid across my shoulders and caring little that I crushed the hat I wore, I dipped my head upon the sueded sleeve of Carlisle's navy coat with the same natural ease I had always felt around him.
"I'd like to visit Lansing again, if that's all right."
"Of course it's all right," Edward insisted before Carlisle could speak.
"Whatever you need, Mireille," Carlisle murmured, lips pressed to the top of my head as we turned away from the curved evergreen which had heralded my new life.
Allowing Edward's immense speed for our long drive to Lansing, Carlisle remained in the backseat, holding me under one arm with reassuring pressure.
While I had faced no true ill moments at the house reminiscent of my childhood home, I hadn't stayed long enough during our summer trip to let myself find out. After the decision I had made in Lewiston, however, I not only needed to find out, but I also needed to release whatever I found – the same as I had done with Todd's heartless influence a few hours earlier.
Creamy as ever in color scheme, the olive-accented house remained the same as before. Clean, well-trimmed, and comforting to those who approached it. How different is was from the Holden house in another world; a place borne of strife, selfishness, and needless materialism.
No matter how fashionable or high-spending Alice or Rosalie might be, no matter how many expensive cars or enormous houses the Cullen purchased over time, they always supported charity and kindness as much as any need of self.
Carlisle's income, Edward's inheritance, and every family investment had all been resourced to innumerable charitable causes – from cancer to alzheimers, from newborn to elderly, from the United States to dozens of other countries, the Cullens left few stones unturned when they donated.
Buoyed by the Cullens' care for the people around them, with new strength I welcomed the contrast of this parallel home's welcoming warmth and settled my soul into freedom from disparity.
"It's a very nice house," I found myself commenting as we stood in front of the home that yet stood for sale or rent. "Hopefully whoever buys it will appreciate the warmth it's been treated to up until now."
"We could purchase it, if you so desire," Carlisle extended the offer quiet and tentative, halted but a little as he spoke.
"I'm not sure…"
Tempting though it was to preserve the warmth currently visible in the upkeep of the house before us, I worried the meaning would be lost if no one ever lived there.
Edward's eyes narrowed softly, no doubt following my thoughts with careful conscientiousness.
"No one lives at my family home," he remarked, far less halted in speech than Carlisle, "but we manage the property. You love it and find meaning in it, even though a family never really lives within its walls."
"I don't think that's quite the same thing," I disagreed, shaking my head side to side.
How many positive memories did Edward retain of his mother and his childhood at the home on West Patterson Street? Not nearly as many as when he was human, to be sure, but enough to recall the good times he spent and moments that gave purpose to his young life.
"Why don't we see if it sells in six months?" Carlisle recommended. "If it doesn't, you may take it as a sign for us to intervene."
"You make a clean argument," I allowed, lips quirking helplessly. "All right. I'll leave it to fate."
"You usually do," Edward muttered, the words barely audible to my human ears.
Chuckling overcame Carlisle as I eyed the younger of the two vampires with a narrowed gaze.
Edward gave no quarter, merely retorting with a raised brow and a single initiative question.
"Well, don't you?"
I felt quite unwilling to deign such sarcasm with a response.
Once our snark had passed, leaving the fraternal twin of my childhood home gave no feeling of ill will. Yet as Edward drove off towards the main road, something called to me one last time from that warm property steadily becoming smaller in the rear-view mirror.
Glancing backwards over Carlisle's shoulder, I wondered what glimpse I was meant to take of this forgotten structure.
No reason in particular caught my mind in thrall, and I was unable to make heads or tails of the small nudge before Edward turned onto the main road and the home disappeared entirely from my view.
All eleven vast acres of the Munising estate appeared definitively more welcoming upon our return, the sparsely furnished home nevertheless infinitely more heart-warming than the perfectly-manicured Lansing house from my own memories. Even more so than the comfortable parallel image we had left a few hours earlier.
"You've turned a new leaf," Edward offered once we had stepped over the threshold, voice a soft measure of wonder.
"Fathers should love their children," I stated, setting my purse on the lone end table near the front door. "Carlisle does exactly that. I wouldn't want to live for anything less."
Carlisle's smile, however small, shone brighter than the sun, moon, and stars. There could only be one thing able to match such a smile – and that was Carlisle's gentle hug.
Peace seemed a strange companion after all I read, felt, thought, and experienced since finding the Wilderness novel in my closet two weeks prior. Carlisle and Edward's strengths, and the entire Cullen family's support, had brought me to just such a point and I loved them dearly for it.
Amidst the emotional onslaught of my acceptance and appreciation, grumbling from my stomach adversely brought a new slice of humor into the void.
Emitting a small laugh along with Carlisle and Edward, I smiled a little and pulled back reluctantly from Carlisle's embrace.
"Sounds like a late lunchtime for the human," I offered, and while the comment lacked the full range of my usual humor, it nonetheless broke the dam and cleared the air.
Heading into the kitchen, I wondered what foods Carlisle might have stocked up in the short time I had slept during the wee hours between Friday and Saturday.
As I pulled open the very nineteen-eighties brown refrigerator, I felt shocked the old appliance actually worked anymore.
Staring quite suddenly into a dark void, I corrected my estimation immediately.
The refrigerator light had gone out and the coldness I expected to feel had been out of commission for a long while. Based on the temperature of the few foods and beverages under my hand, most likely the refrigerator had stopped working several hours earlier – probably not long after we left that morning.
Humming beneath a frown of confusion, I checked the light switch and the bulb, opened the freezer door to find a tray of ice thawing out, then moved on to check the seal around the doors for good measure. Unsatisfied with the lack of answers, I pulled the entire thing out from its slot between counters.
Around the back of the appliance, it took very little searching to comprehend the unexpected end of the old refrigerator's tenure.
"Um... I think we have a problem."
Hardly bothering to raise my voice, I turned back from my bent position to find Edward and Carlisle standing and watching the same item I did, lips twitching and gazes bright.
"Maybe we should go out for lunch." Edward's casual suggestion intruded on the atmosphere drier than a wet paint brush left out in the sun.
"Oh, you two go," Carlisle offered with an amused sigh, eyes gazing upon the length of chewed cord hanging on floor. "I'll clear out the culprits and arrange for a new refrigerator."
An image of Carlisle the mouse catcher waffled over my mind with insistent force and Edward's snorting laughter merely encouraged my own small sound of humor.
Rolling eyes heavenward, Carlisle shooed us both away without even asking what we laughed over.
Edward began our drive to the city with a mutually-agreeable oldies station playing quietly over the radio.
"I'm glad you've been able to recover so well," Edward finally initiated discussion halfway into town. "I felt... helpless... all these days."
"I'm sorry. I wanted to share it, but..."
"I know," Edward soothed, grasping my fingers as words failed me. "You could hardly think straight, let alone offer your thoughts to anyone."
"You've been wonderful," I reminded Edward gently, squeezing his cold hand in mine. "I can't thank you enough for the way you've supported me, even when I withheld such an enormous situation from you."
Shaking his bronze head, Edward insisted, "You were far too shaken to divulge such a horrific discovery. Processing it has been nearly impossible for you. I'm fortunate Carlisle pushed me to reach out. You were so lost and hurt; someone had to give you a guiding hand."
As Edward pulled to a halt at a four-way stop sign, I wasted no time reaching over to hug him.
Pulling back with a mild smile, I watched with a quick crease of eyebrows as Edward opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. Taking a short breath, he attempted speech once more, but again the words appeared to fail him and Edward lapsed into silence.
"Edward, what is it?"
"Nothing." Edward shook his head as he took off, paying no mind to the horn beeping behind us as he offered a slight quirk of the lips. "I simply appreciate you being on the mend."
"Thank you," I replied, still confused by the battle to say something so straightforward. Edward seemed no worse for wear, however, as we drove along.
Instead of dragging out the subject which seemed no longer to bother Edward at all, I refocused my attention on our drive to town.
Edward drove us straight to the waterfront, and to a shore-side local eatery by the name of Barberry Burger, serving standard American fare. What caught my attention was not the food, however. No, it was restaurant's unusual interior which truly caught my interest and helped me understand why Edward brought me there.
Tables topped with area maps, historical Munising photos and maps on the walls, and rustic wooden charm filled the casual restaurant with its own style – to say nothing of its silliest feature.
Customers could hardly miss a life-sized velociraptor from 'Jurassic Park' – with a huge, squishy cheeseburger pillow stuffed in its open mouth.
Snorting overcame me as we walked past the dinosaur and towards the rustic wood beam service counter.
"I thought you would enjoy that," Edward admitted with a smile.
"Tommy the Turtle has taught you well," I teased.
Failing to reply, Edward simply shook his head and let me step ahead of him to order two meals.
Edward later gave no pause before taking our full tray in hand and leading me around to the back of the restaurant, in a section cordoned off a bit more secretively than the rest of the establishment. The quieter area also boasted a clear, shoreline view of dark Lake Superior through the broad windows. Even in the middle of December, the lake showcased a strong, masterful beauty; a masterpiece forever untamed.
"Poetry always shrouds your thoughts," Edward remarked fondly, watching my face and the aim of my gaze far more than he watched me eat, for a change.
"I'll take that as a compliment and keep eating," I offered mildly. "Why don't you tell me what I've missed in my... listless state?"
"Not much, truthfully." Edward shrugged, lips pursed in thought. "You will be completely unsurprised to learn Angela has noticed your emotional change lately."
"Of course she did," I conceded with easy knowledge as I dipped a fry in ketchup.
"She even deigned to ask me directly of your well-being during Biology,"Edward explained more thoroughly.
"Now that's a bit of an upgrade," I considered, vague frown overriding the pleasant quirk of my mouth.
Edward nodded. "Then we share the same belief. The change allowed me a certain leeway, however."
"What do you mean?"
"We were assigned a project in biology, free to choose our partners," Edward clarified, irony coating his smirk in confidence. "I inquired if Angela would be my partner for it."
Amusedly, I recalled the plan we had once considered – to slip a false note of instruction from Mr. Greene to Mr. Banner, indicating a partner project for the junior biology classes. Thankfully, we didn't even have to worry about it. After all our two families had been through, Angela and Edward needed no project to share a table in biology, nor to partner on a class assignment. Simple friendship had done the trick.
Ringing from my cell phone unfortunately interrupted all thoughts of Angela, Edward, or biology.
Jacob's number showed on the screen, bringing a deep frown on my face – the first since leaving the Munising house for lunch. How many lies would I have to offer the young teen now?
Hating the idea, I nonetheless had a family of vampires to protect and I wasn't about fail them now.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Mireille," Jacob responded with remarkable calm, but a definite anxiety lined his tone. "Do you have a minute?"
"Of course," I agreed, sharing a steady gaze with Edward.
"Listen, have you seen Embry at all?"
"What do you mean?" I asked more innocently than I felt capable of being.
"Has Embry talked to you since Leah's birthday?" Jacob clarified, impatience compounding his underlying anxiety.
"No, he hasn't," I answered, thankfully an honest reply.
A huge sigh fluttered through the phone line, followed by a deep breath.
Hoping to end any more drama than necessary, I prompted the teen, "Jacob, what's the matter?"
"It's just… Embry's gone," Jacob tried to explain, exhaling with greater impatience as he went on, "I mean, we haven't seen him or talked to him since Sunday. You know, since the whole… drawing thing?"
Guessing Jacob referred to my efforts in copying the treaty map, I realized how little he had been involved that morning.
Feeling slightly guilty for not following up somehow, I had to stop myself before it grew out of hand. My parallel history had been far and away a greater shadow on my mind and heart than I had at first realized. With the wolves and the tribal council breathing down my neck, I had found something with which to blot out the terrible possibilities of my old life. Yet afterward, the darkness came crashing down and I hardly knew left from right as I tried to face to truth of my biological father's would-be insanity.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
And I was, truly. I found the council's and the pack's decision of secrecy to be foolish. Once the teens began to change in such an obvious way as Quil and Embry had done recently, the story should be told to them. Granted, no one knew Embry would ever become a wolf, but the symptoms had been terribly obvious.
A part of me wondered when Quil would change, for at Leah's party, the youngest of the Ateara line seemed to have developed much faster than Jacob.
"Would you mind meeting somewhere?" Jacob asked, switching subjects in a blink. "Quil told me about Sunday morning and I just… wanted to make sure we're good. Quil wants to tag along, too."
"I'd like that," I answered a tad too brightly.
If Jacob noticed the hesitancy buried in my seemingly pleasant voice, he didn't say anything.
"Somewhere in town," the teen suggested instantly. "You pick."
"Um… I don't know. I'm going to Pastor Weber's church tomorrow at three o'clock, but my classmates will be there and I don't want them to overhear anything."
"Who's Pastor Weber?"
"Oh, sorry," I replied, shaking myself. Of course Jacob wouldn't know who that was; he had only met Angela twice. "That's Angela's dad."
"Is that your tall friend? The nice one?"
Smiling genuinely at the description, I nodded even though Jacob couldn't see me. "Yes, that's her."
"Okay, tell me where the church is," Jacob decided quickly, "and I'll find somewhere neutral nearby. Let's meet at twelve-thirty, so you can avoid your classmates."
"That's perfect. Now, if you take La Push Road to Highway 101, turn right and drive over the Calawah River. Keep on the main road, turn left on Calawah Way, and then left again on North Blackberry. That's where the church is – third building on the left. Call me back when you know."
"Got it. I'll work on it."
Jacob's end of the line clicked out and for an extended moment of silence, Edward and I simply stared at each other with lifted brows and drooping shoulders.
"In this our life," Edward offered, dry as a bone.
"Such as it is," I muttered, tearing into my meal with less grace than I had planned when we walked into the restaurant thirty minutes earlier.
"I doubt it's as terrible as it seems," Edward tried to console, but the words fell flat. "Your gift will be your guide if he presses you about Embry's situation."
"Let's hope it doesn't guide me to alienate any more of the people close to me."
No sooner did Edward open his mouth to reply than did I wave him off.
"It is what it is," I mumbled quieter than a moment prior, clearing away the rest of my food bite by bite with an unwilling hand.
By the time Edward and I headed back into the cold December air thirty minutes later, neither of us had fared well in any attempt at finding conversation topics. Jacob still hadn't called and I almost felt going back to the house would depress me somehow.
"We don't have to return now," Edward told me, shrugging his shoulders. "Munising has a certain beauty even in the winter months, if you would prefer to drive around the area for a time."
"I'd rather do that, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," Edward assured, nearly exasperated in tone. "We'll drive along M-28 for a while. There are more evergreens there, so it won't be terribly dull to look at."
Indeed, once we passed ferries, lighthouses, shipwreck tours, and residential neighborhoods, the highway opened up to a lane of mainly ice-frosted evergreen trees. For a short time, guard rails gleamed bright in their icy coats, passing the window in a series of unending reflection as Edward drove along the three-lane highway at a strolling speed. To the east, Lake Superior glimmered deep, steely blue in the dull December afternoon, stocked with the brilliant glints of ice stones floating just beneath the surface of the water. Shocks of white burst against rocks and sand as winter waves stormed the shore under clouds of threatening gray.
As the winter glory of Michigan slowly rolled by my eyes, a rectangular shock of brilliant emerald caught and held my attention.
"Marquette is about 40 minutes away."
"I could make Marquette in far less than 40 minutes," Edward remarked upon the new object of my attention.
In spite of the sad train of thought which had overcome my heart so swiftly, I found a small smile stretching the corners of my mouth. Edward and his speed never failed to either amaze or amuse me.
Broadening his lips into a smirk, Edward hit the accelerator in a burst of zealous intensity and the guard rails became shooting stars flying past the windows as they fell way at last to an unguarded stretch of road.
Feeling a responsibility to at least update Carlisle of our new plans, I pulled my cell phone from my purse – this one thankfully neither blush pink nor a tote bag.
"I'll just send a quick text," I informed Edward needlessly; my mind was already open to him.
Carlisle's quick text of agreement eased my mind – at least enough to vaguely enjoy the drive to Marquette all along the ice-lined edge of the upper peninsula. Through Christmas, Au Train, Rock River, and Sand River we hurried – past the Lakenenland Sculpture Museum and into the suburbs just before Harvey, where we turned onto US-41 N and headed into the reminiscent neighborhoods of Marquette.
The familiar little deep green house with its white trim and large acreage once again stole my breath for its similitude to my grandparents' home from so long ago. In the early chill of December, with frosted windows and gilded railings, the small house displayed even deeper similarity. At a time of the year when my grandmother would have long-ago put her window boxes into the shed until spring, and the shrubs and trees looked little different from any other, this small house held far less differentiation from my memories.
Regardless the shrinking contrasts between two small areas of the world, in my heart I had grown to accept the change in a way I never imagined possible. Panic remained far behind my thoughts as a realization grew. Similar or not, this little green home symbolized the very love I had never found in Todd Holden; love and gentle care given from Todd's own parents, no less.
A year-old memory sprung to my mind with the tingle of isolation and confusion so recently attributed to my outlook.
My first soft snowfall in Forks, Washington had painted December exactly as I remembered it from those glorious childhood days in Marquette. Depressing and heartbreaking under the spell of painful nostalgia and impossible loss, the beautiful weather of Christmastime had driven me into a cocoon tighter than a straight jacket.
Out of the dark loneliness, the Cullens futilely attempted to pull me from the well of despair. While Rosalie had finally awoken me to my own troubles and pushed me to get back up again, it was Carlisle who had first brought out the depth of my reminiscence and sadness.
Carlisle had tried so very hard to determine what made me hide away under the blankets for four hours without eating, speaking, or moving. And although Carlisle had let me understand his unending support, I had shied away from the connotations of 'home' for reasons beyond my comprehension. Assaulted by confusion in the heat of the moment, I had never been able to explain to Carlisle why his conversation with me had so greatly sapped my strength.
Staring in the present moment at my beloved grandparents' warm and welcoming little house, albeit a parallel version, brought to mind the manner in which Carlisle had comforted me and made me feel loved – the same way Myron and Gloria Holden had done so many year earlier.
Just that quickly, I realized what I had shied away from. Perhaps not from the word 'home' or any associations I held with it, but from the painful similarity in Carlisle's loving disposition to that of my deceased grandparents. Carlisle had tenderly and gently cared for me during my sadness and pain, the same as Myron and Gloria might have done during my childhood.
For the reminders Carlisle gave me each day I stayed in Forks, my heart found a new reserve of strength and peace with which to move forward and spend more time appreciating good moments rather than terrible ones.
"I'd like to visit the cemetery, too, if it's here," I told Edward, my voice going soft.
"Of course."
Edward simply made the necessary turns back into the center of the city, needing no further words while my mind roved over the tree-laden cemetery across from an elementary school.
Frigid cold though it had grown throughout the afternoon, Edward and I parked and walked through the pathways of the cemetery by the sheer mass of memories in my brain. Each step matched, foot by foot, what I recalled from my other life.
At the last winding path, I pulled in a long breath and held it tightly in my chest until a double-wide headstone came into view seconds later; its appearance and the names etched upon it incited an awkward sense of irony and parallels.
"Parallels?" Edward wondered of me, brows dipping downward.
"The color of the stone and the style of script are the same as my grandparents' headstone. It's a different shape, though, and the dates of birth and death are different. The headstone also references the book of Psalms, but it's a different scripture."
"And the names of the deceased?"
"Trust you to catch that thought." I smiled, albeit sadly. "Willis and Myra Augustine seem to be a sort of twist on my grandparents'... Myron August Holden and Gloria Violet Willis were their full names. It's almost an inverse of them, actually. "
Willis and Myra, while quite possibly the Twilight world's parallel of my grandparents, also bore enough differences to put my mind at ease.
At least this one piece of my history would remain a figment only of my imagination and memory.
"And mine."
Edward's promise held its weight in gold. Even if I forgot the double headstone wavering in my human mind, or the little house in Marquette, or the memories of those precious few childhood Christmases, Edward's memory would never falter.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 19: Anguish – Part II!