Renesmee
"She was feeling the pressure of the world outside and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the right thing after all." – F. Scott Fitzgerald
I don't think Jake can physically be any more excited for Marie's arrival. I, on the other hand, don't think I can be physically more exhausted by her.
Life returned to normal quickly after we returned from our trip – or at least, our new version of normal. I watch the twins during the week, trying to sleep when I can, and work on Marie's lullaby. I'm not sure how my father made composition look so easy, because it's not. I don't think he had to look after two babies that are teething and nearly crawling or physically hold his eyes open to fight against his fatigue, though.
Carlisle made a trip to visit us a week after we got back from Mexico. He confirmed Sue's measurements and was encouraged, if not concerned, that fatigue was my only serious symptom. He instructed me to take more naps, and I was more than happy to oblige him.
It's where Jake finds me today after he comes home from work, curled up on the couch fading in and out of sleep while Sadie plays with her dolls on the rug in front of me. It's the first week of October, and the schools are on fall break. The twins had doctors' appointments today, otherwise I'm sure I wouldn't be afforded the luxury of this rest.
Jake greets Sadie and I, placing a kiss on my forehead before heading to shower. Sleep entices me again, but it's nearly dinner time, and I need get something started before we eat takeout again for the second time this week. I don't think Jake would object, but Carlisle would, especially after Jake let it slip that my sweet tooth's only been getting worse.
I'm just pulling some chicken out of the fridge when Embry walks through the door.
"Sadie bug!" he calls, holding out his arms for a hug.
"Embry!" Sadie crows, dropping her doll and running across the room to his waiting arms.
Sadie's giggles fill the air as Embry scoops her up and spins her around in a circle. At this point I'm not sure who's more attached to Embry – Sadie or Bethany.
"Go pack your bag, okay?" he says, setting Sadie down. "We're gonna take your mom out for dinner."
Sadie's eyes light up. "Pizza?"
"I think we should let her pick, don't you?" Embry says, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving her a pointed look.
Sadie nods eagerly, running back to her abandoned dolls.
"Fatherhood looks good on you, Embry," I say softly so Sadie won't hear.
He takes me in for the first time since he walked through the door. "And motherhood looks good on you, Ness," he returns.
His comment brings color to my cheeks. Being called a mom is still something I'm getting used to.
I turn back to the counter. "So, what's the special occasion?" I ask, eyeing his button down and dark jeans. "We're not proposing tonight, are we?" I knew from Jake's reports after they patrolled together that it's been popping up in Embry's mind lately.
He chuckles. "Not tonight, no. But I am going to see what Bethany thinks about moving in together. I want to loosen her up first," he says with a cheeky grin.
"Embry, the dolls won't all fit!" Sadie calls from her place on the rug.
"Duty calls," he says, heading to help Sadie pack her things.
I'm proven wrong, when I am, in fact, more exhausted by the time November rolls around. The twins are learning to crawl, so as opposed to our previously normal routine where I can leave them in the play pen or on the floor while I switch over clothes or cook food, they require my constant and undivided attention.
Even my playing piano isn't doing the trick anymore. At least my attempts to appease them had allowed me the motivation I'd needed to finish the lullaby.
I'm relieved when I hear someone come through the door, but the footsteps are too heavy to be Rachel's, which is who I'm expecting.
I look over my shoulder, surprised to find Paul shutting the door. "Hey, Paul. Thought Rachel was picking up the girls today," I say from my place on the rug trying to hold Harper still so I can change her diaper.
He crosses the room quickly, squatting down to distract Harper so I can finish my task. "She and Bethany and Kim went to Portland for a last-minute girls' weekend. She said she told you," he says in a cheery voice that is for Harper's benefit only. I'm so tired, his chipperness actually grates on my nerves.
"Oh, duh," I say. Rachel had even invited me, but I didn't want to drag them down. This mental fatigue – I think Rachel calls it pregnancy brain – is one side effect I'm not going to miss. "Anyway, Harper crawled a few more times today. Alex is catching on, though."
I fill him in on the rest of my day with the twins as we finish our task.
"Oh," he says as he helps me up off the floor. "Have you talked to Billy about Thanksgiving yet?"
Even though Paul hasn't phased in over a year now, some things never change. Like his mind for food.
I have to chuckle. "You know, Paul, something tells me I'm not going to be thinking much about Thanksgiving this year," I say as he chucks the diaper in the trash.
Confusion crosses his face, and I see he's nowhere close to catching on. I have to bite back a sigh as I look down at my stomach and then back up. "I'm due on Thanksgiving, Paul."
"Oh. Right. Sorry," he mutters. And then he groans. "Does that mean you're not making your casserole?"
I don't have time to answer, because Jake comes through the front door, fresh from work. "Yes, you idiot," he says, cuffing Paul's ear.
Paul retaliates, and the two get into a quick scuffle. Soon enough, Jake has Paul in a headlock.
"I can send you the recipe, Paul," I call, hoping they don't make their way any closer to breaking the kitchen table.
That seems to appease them both, and Jake allows Paul to straighten out.
I'm in the middle of dinner when my phone dings with a text. I lean over and peer down at it, my belly bumping into the edge of the counter.
Leah Clearwater: I swear if this boy doesn't come out soon, I'm going to rip him out myself. 41 weeks. FUCKING RIDICULOUS. No one should ever be this pregnant.
The text makes me laugh out loud. I return, At least it gives you some more time to pick out a name.
She chimes back immediately. Funny. He'll be here by Monday whether he likes it or not – getting induced if it doesn't happen before then.
"Is that Leah?" Jake asks, fresh from his post-work shower. He comes to lean against the counter, kissing my forehead. "Baby time?"
"Not quite," I laugh, gesturing for him to read through the messages.
His forehead creases. "Do you think you'll have to get induced?"
"Sue said it's more common with first children, because your body's still trying to figure out what to do. She had to get induced with Leah, too."
Jake chuckles. "Oh, so Leah actually has been stubborn her entire life?"
We spend the night on the couch – I try to watch a movie but end up falling asleep against Jake's shoulder.
He must carry me to the bed, because that's where I am when the shrill ring of my phone wakes me up. It's well after two in the morning. I grab for my phone blindly. "Hello?"
"Nessie, it's Sue. Leah's in labor. I'm on my way to Seattle right now. I want you to go to the clinic tomorrow to get checked there, okay?"
At least Leah won't have to rip her baby out herself. "Okay," I mumble, yawning. "Tell Leah I said go get 'em."
I try to go back to sleep, but my bladder's too full to allow me that luxury.
After I return from the bathroom, more alert than I'd like to be at this hour, Jake is sitting up, too. "Who was on the phone?" he asks, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across his eyes to clear the sleep.
"Sue. Leah's in labor," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm wide awake now."
"I'll stay up with you." The way that Jake still looks tired, yet so concerned over the late-night call, makes my heart beat faster.
Jake must hear it, because he is instantly more alert, and in the dim light, I can see his mouth tug upward in a devilish grin. "Like what you see?"
The grit in his voice causes desire to rush through my body, and he knows before I do what effect that has on me; I see his nostrils flare. "You want me," he says. Not a question.
"I always want you, Jake. Even at—" I pause to look at the clock, "2:32 in the morning."
"Come and get me, then."
The next morning, Jake heads to the shop bright and early, despite our late-night tryst and the fact that it's Saturday. He wants to make absolutely sure Embry's ready to take over the shop. I'd gently, jokingly reminded him that his actual baby's still in my womb.
I'm playing Marie's lullaby when I hear a frantic knock at the door.
"Coming!" I call, making my way to the door slowly. I used to think Rachel was being dramatic. I owe her an apology, because she'd had twice as big of a bump to tote around.
When I swing open the door, I have to look down slightly to find eyes.
Claire is hunched over, hands on her knees, panting as if she'd been running.
"Hi, Claire. What are you doing here? Who dropped you off?" I ask, looking behind her. I frown when I don't see a car. Had she run here?
"Hey Nessie. Can I come in?" she asks breathlessly, not answering either of my questions.
"Sure," I say, swinging the door open, although she's already slid past my swollen stomach and made her own way to the living room. "Does Quil know you're here?" I ask.
Once again, she doesn't answer my question. "I needed to talk to someone. You, specifically," she says, pacing in front of the couch.
My eyes grow wide. "Is something the matter?"
She groans, throwing herself onto the couch. "My life is over."
I have to bite back a laugh as I go to join her. "You look pretty alive to me," I say. "Let me call Quil, okay?" Claire's eyes grow wide as she props up on her elbow in protest, reaching for my hand. I am quick to add, "So he doesn't come here. We can talk in private."
She sighs with relief before throwing her head back onto the couch, her hair out around her face in a dark halo.
I've barely had time to lift the phone to my ear after dialing Quil's number before he's shouting into my ear. "Nessie! Have you seen Claire? We were at the beach and—"
"Claire is here with me," I interrupt, my calm tone in direct contrast to his frantic one.
"Great! I'll be right over."
I laugh. "No, Quil. It's fine. I need her help with some baby stuff," I offer, and Claire nods enthusiastically at my blatant lie.
"Okay," he says begrudgingly. "Just let me know when I need to come get her."
"Bye, Quil," I say, tossing my phone onto the couch cushion beside me.
I feel an unfamiliar sensation in my abdomen, and I let out a tiny gasp. It doesn't feel like Marie's normal movements, and it doesn't feel pleasant, either. Not quite painful, just uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?" Claire asks, giving me a concerned glance as she glances down at my stomach.
The almost-pain dulls after thirty seconds or so, and I'm able to nod. I think back to what Sue said during her last visit – maybe this is false labor.
"Yes, I'm okay," I say, taking a full breath to make sure the sensation is actually gone. It's not, but I'm already used to it. More changes, I guess. "Now, what's going on?"
Claire sighs, sitting up and crossing her legs. She bites the inside of her cheek before she says, "I think I screwed up my friendship with Quil."
I want to laugh at how ridiculous that claim is, but she looks so sad. "Why do you think that?" I ask instead, shifting to try and relieve the steadily growing pressure in my pelvis.
She sighs, picking at a loose thread near a hole on the knee of her jeans. She can't meet my eyes as she says, "I tried to kiss him today."
Oh. I'd been right after all. Claire has a crush on Quil.
I'd meant to talk to her about it after I first noticed this summer. But then we found out about the baby, went to Chicago, got married, went to Mexico, and thing after thing kept popping up. It had slipped further and further from the front of my mind. Until now.
"And he pushed me away," she continues, lip trembling.
I scoot closer to her, wrapping an arm around her. "Let's start from the beginning, okay?" I say, shifting my hips again.
Claire takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm sure you've noticed how cute Quil is," she starts.
I bite my lip hard to discourage my smile. "Sure," I offer. After I shift my hips for the third time, the pressure dissipates. I'm finally able to zone in on Claire as she takes a breath.
"And I don't know, he's just always there. He's so sweet and he takes an interest in everything I have going on in my life. Like school drama. I think he's more into it than I am sometimes," she says, giggling. "I know a lot of his interest in me is because of the imprinting thing. But I guess I just… got used to the attention? Made something up that wasn't there."
Her face settles into a frown before she continues. "I just got caught up in the moment, and I leaned in and tried to kiss him. He pushed me away. I started crying and stormed off. He started to come after me, but I ordered him not to. And then I ran here."
It's over half a mile to the beach. "Why did you want to talk to me specifically?" I ask. Claire has plenty of strong female role models in her life, ones that live closer to the coast, even.
Claire struggles with words for a second before finally saying, "You and Jacob started out as friends first, too. How did you get him to fall for you?"
Oh, my God. Quil's going to kill me.
"Claire, I—I didn't get Jake fall for me," I say, internally cursing myself at how flustered I sound. "It just kind of happened on its own, like the way I fell for him. Like the way you did for Quil."
Her cheeks color.
"You can't make someone fall for you and expect it to last," I say. "And you're also fourteen. Quil is a lot older than you."
"Jake is a lot older than you."
Now is my turn to flush. Hopefully by the time Marie is this old I'll have a better grip on how this is supposed to go. I'm flailing right now. "Jacob didn't fall for me until I was fully matured…" I start. "It would have been inappropriate for him to have feelings for me when I was still so young. Do you understand why?" I ask.
She nods, groaning. "I don't like it," she says, resting her head on the back of the couch.
"Did Quil tell you Leah's having her baby right now?" I ask, attempting to lighten her mood. Or maybe distract her.
She only nods, though. "Yeah," she sighs. "He said we can see them if they come down for Thanksgiving. Probably thought I'd try to hold his hand in the car again," she mumbles.
"You did that already?"
Claire huffs. "I was getting desperate."
I laugh, standing to my feet. "Do you want a soda or something?" I ask, looking down at Claire.
A few things happen at once. I feel a fresh cramp of pressure deep in my gut, I feel a rush of wetness between my legs, and Claire's eyes grow wide.
"Nessie, I think you're bleeding."