I do not own Twilight.
After I drop Edward off at Emmett's apartment, I drive straight home. I'm desperate to know what kind of conversation took place between my mother and Edward on their ride to my school, and I could barely get any information out of Edward.
Emmett dropped a pair of keys into Edward's hand as soon as we got through the door. His Celica. He was thrilled, though only rewarded Em with "Thanks, man." I wondered how their dad felt about it. He must not have put up too much of an argument because Emmett didn't greet us with a black eye.
Charlie greets me with a ruffle to my hair and it makes me think again about how much those two have missed out on good parents.
My mom is in the kitchen and she smiles when I sit at the counter. We've been careful around each other, like we're trying to figure each other out. It's a new relationship but it seems to have a positive future. I think she's trying to keep in mind that I'm an adult; I can make my own decisions. And I'm trying to keep in mind that I'm her only daughter, and it's hard to let go.
"Cookie?" She hands me one she just took out of the oven. It's warm and soft and reminds me of childhood. I pick at it.
"Mom?" She glances up at me, though I don't meet her gaze. "What did you and Edward talk about on the way to my school?"
She takes a breath and dries her hands. Leaning against the sink, she stares at me. "I told him the truth," she shrugs.
That gets my attention. "What truth?"
"That I'm—we're—too controlling of you." I'm about to argue, but she puts up her hand. "He agreed." She smiles. "We both agreed. I thought he was trying to take you from me; he always thought I was trying to take you from him." She rolls her eyes when I give her a look. "Alright, so I thought you could do better when you were first together, Bella. I'm your mother; I'm always going to think that."
"He's good for me, mom," I say quietly, staring down at chocolate chips. I'd rather count each chipped piece in the cookie than get into this age-old argument, but she surprises me.
"And you're good for him," she says. "He cares a great deal for you, Bella. It took a while for me to see, but once I took off my mom-glasses and put on my unbiased-glasses, it was easier to see." She laughs a little to herself and turns back to the sink while I sit, staring at her back.
It's hard to believe this is the same woman I got into so many fights with over Edward. Over everything, really. But she's still a mother and, despite her sudden desire to remain unbiased, I still, secretly, want her advice. "Do you think we'll last?"
She looks at me over her shoulder, probably because my voice was so quiet and probably because she isn't used to me asking her things like this. She smiles, pressing her lips together tightly. "Do you think you'll last?"
I don't even have to think about it for long. "I want to," I say, my voice filled with conviction.
She smiles. "Then why wouldn't you? If you think the two of you are worth fighting for—and I think you've more than proved that—then I'm sure you'll both find a way."
I grin and slide from the stool. "Thanks, mom."
She smiles back and I watch her eyes slide involuntarily to Charlie, who's been sitting in the other room, pretending to read the paper.
There's a smile on his lips as well.