Chapter Eleven
"Hey, how's Harry?" I ask as they arrive.
"He's doing exceptionally well for this soon after surgery. Sue opted to stay with him, and we'll be going back to the hospital later today, but we wanted to bring Leah home and check in and see how everyone is fairing." Carlisle smiles.
"Hey, Doc. Esme. Good to see ya both." Pete beams, coming over to shake his hand.
"Likewise, Peter, Charlotte, it's been a while," Carlisle greets them cheerfully and Esme hugs them each in turn.
"Too long, if ya ask me." Char beams. "We surely missed y'all."
"Aw, we've missed you too, Sweetheart." Esme smiles. "Where are my manners? Peter, Charlotte, this is Seth. Seth is our…" she trails off, searching for the right word.
"Wolf boy," Char volunteers. "Seth is yer wolf boy. We get it, Esme. We have one o' those too. His name is Quil." She smiles radiantly as Quil waves.
Leah raises an eyebrow. "There really is something in the water, isn't there?"
"I'm just glad she went with 'wolf boy'. I was worried I might be a unicorn." Seth jokes.
Only Em and Jacks and I seem to get the joke, but we all burst out laughing our heads off and everyone looks at us like we're totally cray-cray.
I feel the need to explain. "Unicorn is a poly term for someone who joins in with a couple but is not an equal member of the couple and has to play by their rules. Their presence may or may not be long term, but is usually not permanent, and if the arrangement ceases to work, it is always the unicorn who leaves.
"It can sometimes be used as a derogatory term, or just a fact of the situation. It's situationally very different from being in a throuple or triad, where all three members are on an equal footing," I explain.
"Oh!" Esme exclaims, seeming surprised. "Seth, you didn't think…" she frets.
Seth rushes to reassure her. "No, I was totally kidding. I just thought it was funny because werewolves and unicorns are both mythological creatures."
"Oh, good. Alrighty, then. You had me worried," she says softly.
"I'm sorry, Doll. You don't need to worry. I know exactly what this is," he assures her sincerely.
"Ugh. Mushy and annoying...that's exactly what this is." Leah grumbles. "I'll be in the house if anybody needs me."
"Someone oughta remind her she's gonna be the mushy and annoying one in about ten hours." Jake snickers. "Hey Jacks, any chance I can volunteer for beer runs to Alberta if it means not having to be here when Dads wake up?"
"Uhh, nope. Prolly not, sorry." Jacks laughs.
"Damnnn. Worth a shot." Jacob shrugs.
"Jake when have you known Dads to be mushy? You think that's gonna change once Leah's in the picture?" I reason.
Jacks clicks his tongue in disagreement. "They actually used to be pretty freaking sappy, back before Mom died. Over the past several years when it's just been the two of them they've been more subdued, yeah.
"But really, I do think that's partly just the grief. I, for one, would like to see them get at least a little bit of that joy back. Mushy and annoying is most definitely preferable to wallowing in sadness," Jackson tells us, his voice laced with concern.
"Huh. Well then, in that case, I hope they'll be so sickeningly sweet we all get cavities." Jake smirks.
"Pot, Kettle, Brother," I observe since Ang is currently curled up in Jake's lap, wearing Jake's hoodie, listening to music on Jake's earbuds.
"Hey, we're not that bad," he protests.
"Hmm, yeah, okay, you probably let her use your toothbrush, too," I tease lightly.
"Sure, sure. You know good oral hygiene is nothing to scoff at."
Several people snicker, namely Pete, Paul, and Em's dad.
"What's so funny?" Jake puzzles.
"You said 'oral'." Pete grins.
"Congratulations, I see you boys have graduated into the third grade, good job." I chuckle.
"Hey, hey, we're not quite that immature. I'd say we can hang with the fifth graders, if you ask me," Paul corrects.
"Nobody did ask you," I joke.
"Respect your elders, Bella." Paul snickers.
"Elders? Last I checked you were around Jake's age, Paul," I remind him.
"Yeah, but my lovers are your boyfriend's parents. That makes me a whole generation older than you," he attempts to convince me.
"Well by that logic, my other boyfriend is essentially your boss...so I guess that makes us even," I challenge.
"Silly Bella, we'll never be even." Paul grins.
"So much hostility, Paul. Is this about that time you asked me to go to your Junior Prom with you when I was a Senior and I said no?" I confront, genuinely curious to know if that's why he tries so hard to get under my skin.
"Pssh, no. It's about that summer when I was six and you told everyone I had lice." He pouts.
"But Paul...you did have lice, remember?" I frown quizzically.
"Yeah, I know, but you didn't have to tell everybody!" He huffs.
"Have you been mad at me for the last twelve years about this?" I puzzle. "Why didn't you just tell me I hurt your feelings?"
Paul opens and closes his mouth a few times. "I didn't think of that as an option, I guess? I mean, how many little boys do you hear walking around the playground telling little girls they hurt their feelings…" he points out.
"Do you know how many wars could have ended before they began if people bothered teaching their six-year-olds how to say 'Hey, you hurt my feelings.' instead of carrying around a grudge for twelve years over a misunderstanding?" I state.
"Point taken." He laughs.
"I was eight, Paul. I didn't even know that having lice was something embarrassing. I certainly wouldn't have embarrassed you on purpose. I was not a vindictive eight-year-old. I am very sorry that I hurt your feelings. And even more sorry that you've been feeling badly about it all this time. I hope you can forgive my childhood ignorance," I apologize, extending my hand.
He hugs me instead. "Thanks, Bella. That's all I needed to hear."
"Good. I'm glad we got that out of the way. Maybe we can work on being friends now?" I suggest.
"I'd like that, yeah." Paul nods.
"Cool. Wanna maybe help me make lunch, then? Sounds like the masses are getting hungry," I invite.
"Yeah, I'd like that." He beams, walking with me over to Dads'. I overhear Angela saying I handled that so well I should be a kindergarten teacher.
"Is that her way of saying I have the maturity level of a five-year-old?" Paul frowns.
"Oh, Paul. You're a much more sensitive guy than I ever would have assumed. Why do you hide it behind all that false bravado and goofy jokes? There's no shame in being sensitive, you know. I think you ought to try to learn to deal with your feelings instead of burying them." I advise as we head into the kitchen to start cooking.
"What feelings do you think I need to deal with?" He asks genuinely.
"Well, that's the second time you've been bothered about being perceived as immature. Why do you suppose that bothers you so much?" I challenge.
Paul thinks for a while as he opens a flat of tomato soup cans and pours them into a giant pot for me while I make copious amounts of grilled cheese sandwiches on the griddle.
"I didn't used to care if anyone thought I was immature. I think the reason I care lately is that Emmett and Rosalie are so much older than I am and they have so much more life experience. I guess I kinda feel like a little kid next to them and it's hard not to wonder what they could possibly see in me.
"When you were talking about all that unicorn stuff earlier, I felt that. Like I don't feel like I could ever be their equal. I dunno, maybe it's silly, but that's how I feel," Paul admits.
I sigh. "It isn't silly, Paul. And I get why you would feel that way. My Emmett is only a couple of decades younger than yours, and I'll admit, I've had thoughts like that myself. Like why would someone with so much life experience want to be with someone so inexperienced? But you know what I realized?" I smile, handing him a big wooden spoon to stir the soup with.
"What's that?" He asks me.
"We're coming at this all wrong, you and I. We've been presuming that a youthful soul has nothing to offer an older one and I don't think that's accurate. When I was little, my mom and I lived with my Grandma Marie in California. And you know what Grandma Marie used to say to me?
"She used to say, 'Never lose your ability to play, Isabella. It will serve you well. And never forget how to laugh. For laughter is what keeps us young.' So I believe that even though a lot of wisdom comes along with age...being young at heart is also a great gift that shouldn't be squandered.
"And I think that Rosalie and Emmett see that youthful spirit in you and I think it's a part of what they love about you. I don't think that your age is a detriment, I think it's an asset," I tell him as I slice the grilled cheese sandwiches into triangles and stack the finished ones onto trays.
"Huh." He nods, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "You really think so?"
I nod. "Yep. I really think so, Paul. Now come on, bring that vat of soup and some bowls and we can dish it out there. If we don't get this group fed we're gonna have a riot on our hands." I encourage.
"Yes, Boss." He smirks, following my instructions. "Hey, Bells?" he ventures.
"Yeah, Paul?"
"Thanks."
I smile. "Anytime, Paul."
The few hours between lunch and dinner pass by uneventfully. Esme offers to help me prepare dinner so that she can familiarize herself with the setup we have going. She has kindly volunteered to be the primary cook once my dads wake up because I'll be dealing with family stuff for a while.
Honestly, I think she is thrilled to have a distraction from worrying about Harry. In many ways, the worst part of the surgery is the recovery period afterward.
The stakes are high, for Carlisle especially. If Harry makes it, he gets to be Seth's hero, the man who saved his father's life. If Harry dies, he has to deal with the guilt and repercussions of that, and it's hard to say if their relationship would ever recover. Either way, the whole thing must be pretty stressful on all of them.
And of course, poor Leah is torn between being here for my dads, and at the hospital for her own. I sincerely hope when they wake up in a few hours that their control will be similar to my own because if that happens, they can just accompany her to the hospital and she won't have to choose.
I know it's where they'd want to be anyway, given that Harry is their best friend. They just won't be able to go there if they wake up wanting to eat the whole town. So we have to hope for a miracle.
"Bella, where do you keep the disposable cutlery?" Esme asks, shaking me from my thoughts.
"Oh, sorry. We don't. That stuff is terrible for the planet," I advise.
"Oh, alright then. I didn't think of that. Shall I just put out a stack of silverware?" She confirms.
"Yeah, I usually just stick as many knives and forks and spoons as we need in a big mug, plus a few extras, and then they're easy to transport and people can grab what they need," I recommend.
"Great idea. I'll take this tray out to the fire with the plates and utensils and then I'll come back in to grab the salads and the garlic bread, while you finish with the pasta," she offers.
"For sure, thanks, Esme." I beam.
I finish the alfredo sauce and add it to the divided warming dish where the bolognese and marinara are already waiting. Next, I add the meatballs to the spaghetti, the seafood to the fettuccine, and the chicken to the penne. I sprinkle all three vats of pasta with coarse sea salt and cracked black pepper.
Esme comes back and grabs the caesar, greek, and garden salads, along with the french baguette of garlic bread, the cheesy breadsticks, and the multigrain garlic toasts.
I take the three pots of pasta out to the bonfire, then return for the accessories, including the freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, the crushed red pepper, the chopped green onions, and the pepperoncini peppers.
We decided to make something a little bit fancier tonight to celebrate since Harry's surgery went well and my dads are waking up soon. It's kind of a big day for the combined Black, Whitlock, Cullen, and Clearwater families.
Once we have delivered all the food out to the wolves They begin chowing down right away. Angela finishes eating a human amount of food right around the time the wolves are getting ready for their second helpings. She comes over to sit by me.
"Are you nervous?" Ang asks me.
"About what? My dads waking up?" I confirm.
"Yeah. Peter has been telling us all kinds of war stories about newborn vampires. It sounds like they could wake up and be pretty feral. I'm not sure if you've given it much thought, but I have. With the imprint, your dads are basically like my fathers-in-law. I'm not keen on the idea that Jacob might end up in the position of having to protect me from them.
"I can't imagine how you must be feeling with regards to Micky. I mean, obviously, he won't be nearby when they wake up, neither will I. But Peter says many newborns take close to a year before they regain their faculties and a lot of them don't even remember their human families.
"He even told one story about a newborn soldier who drained his own wife dry without ever realizing he knew her, let alone loved her. By the time he ever realized what he'd done, she was a distant memory." Ang shudders.
I glare at Pete across the fireside. "Why the hell are you telling stories like that right now? Do you honestly think Angela needs to hear this shit? Jake, I'm surprised you didn't put a stop to this." I frown. "Aren't you supposed to protect her?"
Pete sighs and walks over to sit with me. "Isabella, sometimes there are more important things ta protect a person from than the truth. By preparin' her fer the possible, albeit harsh realities o' this situation, Jacob is protecting her. I know you're scared, Kiddo. I know you certainly don't want ta think of your dads that way.
"But only by being prepared can we expect ta prevent somethin' truly awful from happening. To Angela, or McCarty, or anyone else. You see, Bella…I was the soldier in that story. The one who drained his own wife. Her name was Megan Sharp and to this very day, I can't recall her face from before, when I was human.
"But I most certainly remember the look of fear on it as I took her life. That's a look ya never forget. And it's a look I hope you'll never have ta know. Now, believe me, I am grateful that yer control is such that you'll likely never know the horror of experiencin' something like that first hand. But witnessing it can be nearly as traumatic too.
"Jasper lived with the knowledge of what I'd done fer over a decade before he could bring himself ta tell me about it. He was afraid I'd never forgive myself. And ta be perfectly honest, if it hadn't been fer Char's presence in my life, I likely never would have," Pete confesses quietly lost in a sea of painful memories.
I'm speechless for a long time and everyone else is silent too.
"Peter, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I thought you were just tryna scare her." I sigh.
"That's just it, Bella. I am tryna scare her. I'm tryna scare all y'all. Because sometimes, fear is a healthy thing. So, with that said...here is the plan. Emmett Sr, Rosalie, Paul, the Doc, Esme, an' Seth, will take Micky to the hospital an' protect him there where his scent will be harder ta find an' he'll be more difficult ta get to.
"Char, Alice, Embry, an' Quil, will take Angela ta the movies. Again, it's a public place that will be harder ta access without drawin' attention. We are doin' it this way because generally, with newborns, the first human scent ya smell is the one ya hunt. So Angela and McCarty are in the most imminent danger here.
"Our job, yers and mine, along with Jackson, Emmett Jr, Jasper, Jacob, and Leah, is ta keep Billy n' Charlie here, and help 'em remember their loved ones, first and foremost. Jasper, as their sire, an Empath, and someone who has done this a thousand times or two, will be taking point on this.
"You and yer brothers are here mostly ta remind 'em of their family. Leah as their mate will be the first person they see when they wake up. Emmy and I are mostly here fer muscle an' fer moral support," Pete explains, briefing us on the well thought out plans they've developed.
"Any questions?" He asks, looking to me first and then around at the rest of the crowd.
"No, I'd say that's pretty clear." I nod as everyone agrees and heads off to get ready for what could be an intense and stressful evening.
"Hey, Ang…" I state as she climbs into one of the SUVs with Alice and Char and their wolves.
"Yeah, Bells?"
"You asked me before if I was nervous..."
She nods.
"Well, I am now."
Ang gets in the vehicle and it pulls away, as Rose loads McCarty's things into the other SUV.
"Don't forget Sucky and Mr. Bear Bear," I worry, looking around to make sure nothing essential has been left behind.
"I already packed them, Honey." Em's mom assures me with a sad smile. "I know this is terrifying, but he's going to be just fine. I can promise you...no harm will come to my grandson, Bella. Not today and not on my watch."
She takes my face in her hands and kisses my forehead. Then I do the hardest thing I've ever had to do and say goodbye to my baby boy with no idea of when I will see him again. It could be a few hours, a few days, or even longer. Worst case scenario?...well, I don't even want to think about that.
I watch as McCarty's Daddas say their goodbyes to him. Jackson, as the only one of us capable of shedding tears, is shedding enough for all three of us.
"Hey, Leah..." I say as the car drives out of sight and we head inside to get ready.
"Hmm?" She acknowledges, lost in thought, probably about my dads.
"The way you felt, wanting to be here with them and at the hospital with your dad…I understand that feeling now. And it really sucks," I admit.
"I know, Bells. But you can't focus on McCarty right now anymore than I can focus on my dad. We have to be here in mind, body, and spirit if want to be able to bring them back to us. Okay?" She reminds me.
"Okay." I nod, biting my lip, as we head into Dads' bedroom along with the others.
Well, here we go.
I think to myself anxiously as Billy and Charlie simultaneously open their eyes