Hello, everyone! I hope you're staying safe!
Big thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! And TONS of thanks to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for all of their help. (Any mistakes you see are my own.)
SM owns everything Twilight.
Mom scurries through the kitchen, her movements quick and erratic. Her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth as she bites it, wincing moments later. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, several strands pulled out and framing her face.
It would look beautiful, except for it being extremely frizzy from her pulling on it too many times.
Every so often, she'll make a sound of distress, a low keening moan emitting from her throat as she stares into the pantry with a look of panic on her face.
While Mom continues her cycle of despair over Gran's upcoming visit, I get distracted by the buzzing of my phone.
I fish it out of my pocket and hope it's Alice. I've been trying to get in touch with her for the past four days, but she hasn't answered her phone or returned my messages. It's clear she's shutting me out, and I'm pretty pissed about that. I get that she likes Jasper and is having a hard time with his asshole behavior, but I thought she could separate her crush for him from her friendship with me.
Disappointingly, it's not Alice that's texting me, but another Cullen.
The news is reporting that for the past three nights, someone has been running around town destroying public property and scaring the good citizens of Forks by standing in their backyard in all black. According to reports, they look pale and ghostly. When I heard this, I naturally thought of you. But then I thought, "no, she'd never be that stupid." Then I thought again. So, Bella, where have you been these past nights? ~Edward
I snort under my breath, typing out a response.
Pale and ghostly, huh? I think that's YOU, emo boy. Is this your way of admitting guilt? Do you need to talk to my father? I won't keep you out of prison if that's your angle. Do the crime and do the time. Enjoy jail, pretty boy. You won't be lonely for long, though. ~B
You think I'm pretty? ~E
I roll my eyes, my reply coming out swiftly through harsh taps on my phone screen.
Do you feel that? It's suddenly harder to breathe because your ego inflated again. You're not that special, Edward. ~B
Haha. For your information, I never admit guilt. I was only concerned for your well-being and your father's status in the community, that's all. ~E
"You're so full of it," I mumble underneath my chuckles.
"Only," huh? Well, that's very nice of you, but it wasn't me. I was accounted for, thank you very much, asshat. You said you'd never admit guilt, but you also said you'd never apologize, and you've done so quite frequently … so? Where were you? ~B
Minutes pass without a reply, and while I know he's probably thinking up a witty comeback or distracted, I take the opportunity to make my case.
No response, huh? Just like I thought. Guilty as ever. I'll keep my fingers crossed you don't get sent to prison for life. ~B
"Renee, stop," Dad tells her, interrupting my message. Dad is ignored as Mom continues to flit about the kitchen, cleaning, organizing, and pulling out ingredients for the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner to take place next week. Thankfully, she's kept to her promise, and everything is normal, traditional things you would expect to find in the meal, but she's still nervous as hell.
She's blaming on it the fact that all the grandparents are going to be here, and while I don't doubt it, I think there's another reason too.
Since her changes, she's been extremely nervous about everything; cooking and housework, mainly. I've caught her looking as if she's going to cry more than once when something breaks, or a meal doesn't turn out the way it should.
Dad, Rose, and Jasper immediately offer reassurances, while casting concerned glances toward me when they think I'm not looking.
I can't help but roll my eyes at that. While I'm seeing the inside of my head, I brush them aside and clean up whatever mess has been made or help Rose fix dinner. Their subsequent looks of shock and relief send me into chuckle fits that have me excusing myself to the bathroom so I can calm myself down.
Seeing Mom isn't going to calm relax, he steps closer, but makes no move to reach for her, instead opting to enter into a direct line of sight.
"Honey, stop. There's still plenty of time to get the ingredients for Thanksgiving."
Her head whips around toward him, her wide eyes showing disbelief and astonishment. "And go to the store with her? She'll say I'm not taking care of my family. No," she says firmly, waving her hands in the universal motion that means the conversation is finished. "I need to get this done today."
"She said that once … and that was when we were first married and had Bella. She doesn't think that way anymore."
Mom rolls her eyes, scoffing. "She may not say it, but I know she's thinking it. Just like you know my mother doesn't think we're a good match."
Dad grimaces at this, but reluctantly nods. "That's true about your mom, but my mother doesn't think that way anymore. She loves you, Renee. She does."
"Things are different now, Charlie," she murmurs, buried in the pantry once more. "I … I know I'm being crazy, but I want everything to be perfect, okay? Just let me do this."
Heaving a heavy sigh, Dad nods. "Fine, but you need to relax and calm down. Before you get all …" he pauses with a wince, casting a panicked look of his own toward his wife.
"Okay, sure."
Seeing he's lost her attention once more, his shoulders slump inward, and he heads into the living room, the squeak of recliner sounding out moments later.
Jasper emerges from his room, nearly stumbling into the wall with the familiar lost-in-thought expression he's had on his face for the past four days. It's not as bad as it once was, where he wouldn't talk to anyone and remained silent and shut off in his room.
I tried to talk to him by forcing him into corners and knocking persistently on his door at all hours, but he never budged. Two nights ago, I had thought he finally relented and had come to talk to me when I heard footsteps in the hall, but the knock on my door never came.
Rose tried to talk to him as well, and I thought with the two of us double-teaming him, he'd relent, but he never did.
To be honest, it kind of hurts, and I know it bothers Rose.
We're so used to him talking to us, but after two days of this, Rose simply said that we needed to let him figure things out on his own.
The thought was depressing, but I knew she was right; after all, we wouldn't be together all of the time in the future. We need to depend on ourselves from time to time.
"There's a wall there," I point out teasingly.
Jasper looks over to me, humor swimming in his eyes and the corners of his lips fighting a smile.
Pleasantly surprised, I blink rapidly before smiling back at his reply.
"I've noticed. Shit's always changing in this house," he jokes.
"Language," Mom barks, still distracted in her search for ingredients.
Jasper's eyebrows furrow together in concern as he watches Mom's hurried movements. Heavily, he frowns, and strangely enough, there's an odd combination of worry and awe in his eyes as he stares at her.
"What's up with her?" he murmurs at last.
"She's worried because Gran is coming in a few days."
Shock flits across his face, but there's excitement there too. "Really? I thought she wasn't coming until the day before Thanksgiving or something."
I shake my head and lightly laugh. "You've really been in your own head, huh?"
His cheeks redden, and he ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kind of. I've had a lot to think about."
"I imagine," I murmur, though he doesn't seem to hear me. "Yeah, she called about four days ago. Wanted to come and spend some extra time with us; I don't know." I trail off with a shrug, still confused about her intentions for this early visit.
"That'll be nice, though," he replies. "I love Gran."
"Yeah, she's great. Until Grandmother Beth comes."
We both grimace at the same time, and behind us, Rose makes a sound of displeasure.
"Ugh, really? She's coming?"
I nod in response even though she can't see. Her phone is in her hands, and she's staring intently at it, her fingers sliding over the screen as she texts someone. A small, bashful smile pulls at her lips and remains there long after she's placed the small device face down on the table, giving us her full attention.
Knowing she's paying attention now, I reply, ignoring Jasper's jerky movements and pointed glances toward his twin.
"Yep. She and Grandpa returned from wherever they were early and wanted to spend the holiday with us."
"France," is my mother's muffled reply, digging through the cabinet underneath the stove, the clattering of pots and pans loud in the small kitchen.
"Yeah," I say, waving a hand. "Anyway, that oughta be fun."
"Tons," is Rose's droll reply, followed by a heavy breath. Sitting heavily back, she shakes her head and brings one hand to massage her forehead.
On my other side, Jasper has now gone completely still, his unblinking stare on Rose. Seconds later, her head snaps up, and her wide eyes meet his.
My attention bounces between them as they silently communicate; one of Rose's eyebrows lift high on her head, clearly asking a question only they know. Slowly, Jasper nods in response with a shy smile, the apples of his cheeks taking on a deep pink hue.
He looks down, his curly blond hair falling in front of his eyes and breaking his connection to Rose. Immediately, she's displeased with this, and her eyes narrow into slits. This time, Jasper's head snaps up and keeps his attention on her.
I'm extremely intrigued to learn what secrets they're sharing; what is Jasper embarrassed about … what is Rose is happy about? There are so many questions, but I know I'll get no answers from them.
When they get secretive and carry on like this, they'll keep it between them. There have been a few occasions where they've let me in on the secret, and then three of us have our quiet conversations and make the decisions we think are best for the situation.
I don't think this will be one of those times, though. Deep in my gut, I know whatever they're 'discussing' so intently will remain between them. While I'm a little upset I'm being shut out; I have a pretty big hunch I know who they're talking about.
The Cullens.
It's one of the common factors between them now, especially considering Rose is now their biggest cheerleader—well, Emmett's cheerleader, to be more precise.
Now that she's dating Emmett, she's obviously on his team and trying to preach all the goodness she sees in him. I doubt she would say the same for his siblings, considering she has little interaction with them, but I could be wrong.
Whatever Emmett cares for will be what she cares for; that's just how she is.
Plus, she knows better than everyone else that you can't like someone without tolerating the people they love the most.
Ever so subtly, Rose nods to the left, and Jasper gives a barely-there dip of his head, conceding with a heavy sigh. Hoisting himself up, he shuffles toward his room, waiting for Rose.
"Where are you going?"
"To talk," Rose replies. "We'll be back in a bit."
"You guys gonna share or keep me in the dark?" I question, raising an eyebrow and folding my arms over my chest.
The pair exchange a long, pensive look, and Rose turns to offer a smile that's comforting and calming all at once.
"Soon," is all she says before she and Jasper disappear into the back.
The simple word makes me feel a lot better, but I still find myself huffing slightly as I lean my elbow on the table, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. I understand their need for privacy; there are some things I only talk about with Rose and only with Jasper. However, with everything that's happened recently and everything that's going to happen soon, I thought we'd stick closer together now, more than ever.
"Don't be upset, baby girl," Mom says, brushing some hair away from my face. She places a gentle kiss on my forehead when I look up at her, and I softly sigh at the gentle motion of her fingers brushing through my hair. "They have a lot to talk about. They won't exclude you; that's not how the three of you are."
"Intuitive as ever," I murmur, catching her sharp look shortly after that. Pressing on, I continue. "I'm not upset, just … impatient."
And it's true.
I'm not really upset they're keeping secrets, I only wish they would just confide in me; if I do say so myself, I'm damn good at keeping secrets and a great confidant. I know they'll confide in me, I just wish it were now.
Sometimes, I'm an impatient bitch.
"Let it go," Mom tells me, her tone full of warning as she escapes to be buried in the pantry once more. "You'll know soon enough."
"I know, but I—"
She cuts me off, her tone final. "Enough." Then, a moment later, "I thought we had more black pepper?"
Knowing that remaining here is useless, I head up to my room, stopping halfway up the stairs as a heavy, impatient knock sounds from the door. My stomach becomes heavy, and I swallow past the lump in my throat as I turn, my unblinking eyes trained on the door.
Another knock pounds on the wood and rattles the glass on the small window surrounding the door, but it's muffled, almost as if it's underwater. The air in the house becomes heavy and almost unbreathable, as tension descends like a tidal wave.
I don't know what is making me feel like this, but if it's what I think it is, it's not good.
My phone buzzes noisily in my pocket, but I don't have the strength to answer it.
My parents sluggishly walk into the entryway, their eyes grim as they stare at each other.
Like Rose and Jasper, they seemingly carry on a silent conversation, with Dad giving my mother a questioning glance and her responding in a grim nod.
He sighs heavily, his head falling forward but makes no move to answer the door.
When another impatient knock shakes the wood, I carry my lead feet toward the door, closing my eyes as I swing it open.
"Isabella, good heavens! Is that how you greet your grandparents? With your eyes closed as if we're some monster?"
Grandmother Beth's shrill and accented voice is the first thing I hear, and already, I feel the need to scream.
I don't know where she got the accent, considering she was born and raised in Forks, but whatever. I guess it makes her feel better about herself.
Slightly following her tirade is a loud, unladylike snort that only belongs to one person; Gran Marie.
"Well, she's not stupid, at least. Bella, you have holy water, right?" she asks, gripping me in a tight hug and loudly kissing my cheek.
She stares at me for a long moment, her eyes drifting over me from head to toe. Once her appraisal is done, she nods in satisfaction.
"You look beautiful, baby."
I give her a genuine smile, trying to ignore my Grandmother's snort.
"She looks ridiculous," Grandmother spits, reaching out to take a lock of my purple streaks between her fingertips. "Look at this. Disgraceful."
Gran knocks her hand away with a glower, coming to stand in front of me, protectively. "Don't touch my granddaughter, wench."
Grandmother's nostrils flare, and if looks could kill, Gran would be a pile of ash at our feet. "She's my granddaughter, too."
"I find that difficult to believe," she says, wagging a finger. "Evil can't reproduce."
Behind Grandmother, Grandpa stands silently with his lips pressed firmly together in an attempt to stop the laughter. His eyes dance between the two quarreling women, clearly enjoying the fight taking place, or rather, Grandmother being put in her place.
When he catches my eye, he shoots me a wink and mouths the words, "you look beautiful."
I smile genuinely in response and take a step back. "Why don't you all come in?"
Grandmother looks over Gran's shoulder, her lips pursing. "It's about time you remembered your manners and invited us inside." She straightens her clothes, smoothing her hands down her red blazer, casting a suspicious look up and down the street. "I'm sure the neighbors think we're beggars or something."
Gran fingers the lapel of her jacket, scrunching her nose in disgust. "With that knock off you're wearing? Absolutely."
"How dare you, Marie! This is expensive, and it costs more than you'll ever see in your lifetime!"
"Sure it is," she replies with a snort. "First of all, you have no idea how much money I have, and secondly, stop wasting your cash on shit that makes you lumpier than you already are; do something decent and buy some class. Or give to charity; do something good … or will you burst into flames? Now that would be a sight!"
"Okay," I interrupt with a wave of my hand. I can tell both of my grandmothers are about to come to blows, and while the sight would be hilarious, I don't want it to happen in the front yard. That's what backyards are made for. "Let's go inside."
Grandmother frowns, shaking her head in disappointment. "Isabella, honestly. You have no manners. This is all your father's fault. That and hers," she sneers, flicking a hand toward Gran. "They're both uncouth heathens. Your mother should have married that nice boy I wanted her to marry, but she's been corrupted and has been since she let herself get knocked up by that sorry excuse of a man. Now, she's trap—"
"Mother, stop!" Mom barks from behind. Gently, she slides her hands on my shoulders and moves me aside, coming to stand in front of me. Dad gently nudges me, and when I turn to look, he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue in an effort to make me laugh.
I don't laugh, but I do smile, remembering the times when he did that exact thing when I was younger. It was his way of taking my mind off things, so I wouldn't be upset at the ignorance of other people.
This time, however, I'm not upset. I've grown used to the comments of my different style from others, especially Grandmother Beth. In all honesty, I could give two shits what she thinks; I'm happy with myself and the way I look, and that's all that matters.
Futilely, I wonder who takes Dad's mind off her hurtful words?
I'm sure Grandmother Beth's opinions of my father are hurtful, no matter how much he pretends otherwise. Plus, with the way she talks about their marriage and their children, I'm sure it cuts deeply.
Nudging him back, I lean toward him. "Gran has a point, you know. Do we have any crucifixes lying around? Or holy water?"
His lips twitch, but he says nothing, watching the scene unfold in front of us.
"Renee," Grandmother Beth loudly exclaims with a gasp, a hand coming to rest at the base of her throat.
Her loud shriek brings Rose and Jasper rushing in. They flank me on either side, their postures stiff as they immediately take in the tension radiating around us. Worriedly, they rapidly glance from the grandparents to my mom, taking slow, baby steps forward.
Because of our close proximity, their shoulders and arms push against mine, giving me no other option but to move with them. I'm not complaining, though; I want to see what's happening on our front porch. I just hope it won't end up on the news.
My grandparents stare at Mom in surprise, their eyes wide and mouths open.
Gran recovers first. Her shock transforms into pensive suspicion and unease, studying Mom from head to toe through a narrowed gaze. Her lips purse and she crosses her arms over her chest, and her right foot begins to tap on the concrete.
I don't know why she's looking at her like this; sure, Mom is different, but underneath all of that trivial crap, she's still the same person she's always been … just a little bit more.
So why is Gran acting like this?
I know she's always been a little critical of my mother, but this is too extreme, even for her. Despite her past behavior, I know she loves her. I know this because I can see the way her lips quirk when she watches my parents playfully bicker; I hear the way she sighs happily when they snuggle up in his recliner after dinner and whisper like kids.
I know she loves my mother because I see the way she looks at her when no one else is looking; she gives Mom the same look of love she gives my father.
I also know she loves her because I came out and asked her when I fourteen.
"I love to keep people on their toes, Bella," Gran had told me. "I've always been the touchy-feely type. You see how I am with your father? That's because I love him. I nag him because he's my boy; I nag because I love him, just like I love your mother. She's not my daughter-in-law, she's much more than that, and I thank the heavens everyday Charlie knocked her up … I would have preferred it if they waited until they were older to become parents, but eh. What can you do? Kids are stupid sometimes, but out of stupid mistakes, comes wonderful things … like you. Without your mother, I wouldn't have the best granddaughter, so I can't hate her."
That's why, with everything within me, I can't understand why she would stare at her with such doubt and apprehension.
Can't she see we're all here, happy and healthy?
The silence is broken by Grandmother, who lifts her hands toward Mom's face, but falters, rapidly bringing them back to her sides.
"What have you done to yourself? You … you look so different! What happened? Did you do this for him? To keep him around? Honey, I told you, don't change yourself for him. He's not worth the effort."
Behind her, Gran still hasn't let up with her gawking, something my parents exchange a quick look about, but otherwise remain silent on.
Now, is definitely not the time.
Mom plasters a smile on her face, waving them inside. "It's nothing, Mother. Come inside; it's going to rain."
"It always rains here; it's Forks! And I'm not going anywhere until you answer me! What happened?" Her blue eyes, so much like my mother's, narrow and turn on my father. "What did you do to my baby? She's … not right!"
This time, it's Grandpa that speaks up, clearly frustrated with his wife's foul attitude. "Beth, there's nothing wrong with her! She's fine, beautiful even. She looks radiantly happy."
Mom smiles at Grandpa's words, but Grandmother is having none of it. "What is there to be happy about? Here of all places? No, he's done something to her … convinced her to get plastic surgery or something! She was fine with how she was before!"
The last statement is directed at my father, who turns an odd shade of puce as the silence drags on.
Personally, I don't care about keeping the peace. I'm not about to let this moment pass without saying something. No one insults my parents and gets away with it, no matter who they are.
I ready myself to unleash a tirade of epic proportions at my Grandmother, ready to tell her exactly where she can stick her pretentious attitude. Before I can utter a word, Mom takes a deep breath and briefly closes her eyes.
When she opens them again, they're darker and swimming with barely contained rage. Dad must notice this, too, as he steps to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and whispering in her ear.
Gran pales and watches them with a close eye and looking ready to jump between at any moment. I roll my eyes, wondering when she'll stop being so over-dramatic.
Beside me, Rose and Jasper tense and freeze, watching my parents studiously. I raise an inquiring eyebrow at them both, and in response, they flash me tight, uneasy smiles.
Upon Dad's touch, Mom relaxes immediately, leaning into his side and smiling at us kids over her shoulder. After a moment, she turns to address the grandparents. "Let's just go inside before it rains, okay? It's the start of the holidays; let's not bicker."
Grandmother shakes her head obstinately. "I'm not arguing … I'm merely pointing out your differences. Like that," she says with a sneer, nodding toward my parents. "What happened just now? You used to have such fight in you, daughter."
"Trust me," Mom warns. "You don't want to see my fight."
"Renee," Dad softly warns, lightly tugging at her shoulder.
Grandmother huffs, nodding once. "Yes, just like that. Now, you just do as he says? You're his puppet; everything I didn't want you and your sister to be. What has he done to you?"
"The only thing that being done to me is you!" Mom bellows, flinging a finger in Grandmother's face.
She shrinks back slightly, and upon realizing what she's doing, Grandmother squares her shoulders and meets Mom's irate look with one of her own.
"Renee, you cannot—"
"Oh, I will," she counters with a dark laugh, stepping away from Dad. He starts for her, but she holds up a hand, firmly shaking her head. "Stay away from me right now, Charlie … and you kids stay in the house."
Rose and Jasper each tug on my shoulders while Dad pushes me back and stands in front of us.
Even though we're further away from the action, the three of us still stand on the tips of our toes, attempting to see over Dad's shoulders.
Mom leans down into Grandmother's face, her nose an inch away from her mother's. "You wanted to see some fight? Well, here it is. I'm happy here, Mother; I never wanted to leave Forks; I love Charlie and my kids … they're everything to me. Everything. This kind of life, this town, may not have been enough for you, but it is for me, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. And don't you dare talk about my sister. You didn't know her as well as I did."
"She was my daughter; I knew her well enough." She pauses, shaking her head and casting her gaze upward. "I don't understand what's happening here. When you were younger, all you could talk about was getting away from here. Lillian, too; you both wanted a life outside of this crappy small town. You wanted adventure and surprise. It all changed when you met him."
"You're right; Lillian and I did want to leave, but that was before I met the love of my life and realized everything I wanted was here."
Grandmother scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You were a baby," she hisses. "You had silly thoughts and dreams that were unrealistic. You were a naïve girl … something that obviously hasn't changed."
Mom stands back, folding her arms across her chest, her hip cocked out to the side. "We're still together, aren't we? We're not together due to obligation or because we're too comfortable to be with anyone else. We're together because we love each other," she explains, her voice growing softer. Without looking, Mom reaches back for Dad's hand, and wordlessly, he slides his hand into hers, squeezing tightly. "He still makes me smile and giggle like I'm sixteen. I still find myself thinking about him, even when he's in the next room … my heart still warms when he leaves me notes or brings me a gift, just because. And our sex life is still phenomenal."
All at once, Rose, Jasper, and I groan, but underneath the disgust, we're smiling at the proclamations being thrown out.
"I feel the same way, Renee," Dad tells her, kissing her cheek.
She smiles at him in response, briefly closing her eyes as she rests her forehead against his.
"Now, I'm going to forget about everything you've said for the sake of family and the holidays, but I expect you to be on your best behavior."
"I'm not a child."
"Otherwise," Mom interrupts, her voice rising over Grandmother's, "You're not welcome in my house."
Grandmother's mouth falls open as she sputters, looking at Mom as if she's grown a second head. No one else says a word, but satisfaction is obvious on everyone's faces, my grandfather's included.
It's only Gran who says something, though. Loudly, she laughs and claps her hands. There's still a hint of apprehension on her face, but despite that, she looks extremely proud. "Good for you, Renee. Tell that old hag off."
Briefly, Mom's head ducks in embarrassment, but she gets over it quickly, sweeping a hand behind her. "Let's go in now. We've given the neighbors enough of a show."
Sure enough, I spot the neighbors across the street and next door peeking from behind their curtains, their faces practically pressed against the glass.
Plastering on a smile, I wave at each of them, staggering forward as Rose knocks her shoulder into mine.
Muttering a curse, I glare at her over my shoulder. "What?" I hiss.
"Not appropriate," she scolds in a whisper, but there's no force behind it. The corners of her lips constantly lift as she fights a smile.
My anger depletes just as quickly as it started, and I turn back to watch the continued soap opera play out on our front porch.
Hesitantly, Gran steps forward, keeping her gaze on Mom, who meets her stare unblinkingly. When she's close enough, Mom smiles and slowly moves a hand toward her, grasping her forearm lightly, ignoring her light flinch.
Surprise flits across Gran's face, and she continues forward as if she's in a daze. It's only when Rose softly calls out to her that she breaks from her trance. Shaking her head, she lightly laughs, looking at Mom over her shoulder.
Her attention shifts back to us, and she grins excitedly, grasping my hands and bringing them up in the air as she dances. We laugh with her, not really caring that Grandmother might be upset.
She deserves it.
Grandmother glowers at us, her irate expression breezing over all of us before settling on Mom. "I'm going to let you calm down, Renee Charlotte. When you remember I'm your mother, and I deserve respect … and when you can speak to me in a respectful manner, then I'll come back. Good day."
Promptly, she spins around and marches out into the street, her heels rapidly clicking against the concrete and bouncing off the trees. Grandpa doesn't immediately follow her, instead opting to stick around. After a moment, he reaches for Mom's hand, giving her a puzzled expression, but managing a smile.
"Proud of you, Kiddo," he whispers.
"Thanks, Dad."
"Andrew! Come on!" Grandmother screams from the passenger side of the car.
Rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh, he shakes his head and trails after her, looking as if he'd rather stay here than go anywhere with her.
From my pocket, my phone buzzes once more, and I'm curious to see what Edward has written now, but it's not the right time.
"Bye, Beth!" Gran calls, waving a hand. "See you soon, sweetie!"
"Mom!" Dad groans, his head falling back on his shoulders. "Do you have to antagonize her?"
Gran nods once. "I do. It's my job, and I'm fabulous at it."
"Can you try to cut it out for the holidays? Please? It'll make things much easier for us … and Renee."
At the mention of her name, Gran turns toward my mother, her expression once more turning calculating. "Would it really? Why?"
"The holidays are stressful enough for us with all the bickering and nitpicking," he pointedly says. "Add in the fact that you're here while Renee wants to cook her own dinner, that's plenty of stress for her."
"Well," Gran begins, straightening her clothes and squaring her shoulders. "I didn't realize my presence was such a bother."
Dad levels her with a hard look. "Cut the guilt trip; it won't work. And that's not what I meant, and you know it. Besides, you know how you are; you know you're difficult and pushy."
"Bitchy, you mean?"
He snorts in response. "You said it, not me."
I laugh, quickly muffling it against the back of my hand as Gran looks over. She doesn't look upset, but I can see she's trying very hard to appear that way.
"Look, Mom," Dad continues, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We've had a hard year, and with the last few months being the most difficult, let alone the past few weeks."
Concern and panic overtake her features. "What happened? What didn't you tell me? I knew I shouldn't have moved to Florida! I miss too much—"
"Marie, not now, please," Mom interjects, shooting a pointed look toward us. "Later, okay?"
Gran stares at her for a long moment before nodding. "Fine, later. And I'll try my hardest to be on my best behavior, but it won't be easy. Beth is a major pain in the ass! I don't know how you turned out normal, Renee."
Mom's mouth falls open, words failing her before a bark of laughter escapes. "I don't know how normal I am, but I appreciate the compliment."
"You know what I mean. You're not stuffy and bitchy."
Dad's chin drops down to his chest. "Mom, come on."
"What? I'm not going to sugar-coat things. I'm not made that way, Charlie. Besides, she knows her mother."
Mom nods at Gran's words, her lips twitching as she fights a smile. "Please, come in. I'm sure you want to rest before you go to the B&B."
"Why would I go there?" she questions, looking astonished. "I'm not staying there. I'm staying here, where I'm needed. Jasper, be a darling, and bring my things inside."
Jasper nods—albeit a little reluctantly—bringing her bags inside, setting them in the living room with a grimace as he takes in the silent shock on my parent's faces. She pats him once on the cheek and moves toward Rose and me, giving us tight hugs and brandishing kisses to our cheeks.
Once inside, Gran looks around the house with a close eye. But it's not as critical or inspecting as it's been in the past. In fact, it simply looks as if she's looking for more changes, and she's satisfied that everything is the same.
My parents recover from their shock and begin speaking over another, their voices jumbled and broken. I take the moment to check my phone, wanting to stop the incessant buzzing of my phone.
When I open Edward's messages, I can't help but smirk at his responses.
You're such a pain, you know that, right? Not everyone is glued to their phone. And no, I'm not guilty. I think you protest too much. ~E
See? Not responding is, in your definition, an admission of guilt. Don't worry, I won't forget you. You'll look … okay-ish in orange. ~E
Quickly, I respond.
Orange isn't my color, trust me. There's a reason it's not in my hair. Right now, I'm thinking more of a white color with long sleeves that wrap around my torso. It'll be like I'm constantly hugging myself. ~B
Seconds later, my phone buzzes, but I ignore it, watching the scene before me unfold with trepidation.
"Marie—"
"Mom, you don't—"
"One at a time," Gran scolds, planting a hand on her hip.
"Mom," Dad starts, squeezing Mom's hand tightly within his own. "There's not a lot of room here, you know? You won't be comfortable."
"Nonsense. I won't kick the children out of their rooms if that's what you're worried about. I can sleep on the couch. It still pulls out, right?" she inquires, kicking it.
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then it's settled!" She beams, raising her hands in the air as if she's just completed a victory marathon. "I'll sleep right here in the living room, in the center of the action."
The parents exchange a look, each of them looking paler than normal. "Are you sure you won't be more comfortable in Jasper's room? Or with one of the girls?" Mom suggests. "It's really no trouble."
Gran scrunches her nose. "No. That's their space, and I won't invade it. They need a safe haven to escape to, and I won't take that away from them. With me here in the living room, I can be as close as I need to, just in case I'm needed. Obviously, you've both been through a lot; more than what I've been told," she pointedly says, fixing my parents with what I call the 'Mom' stare.
It's the look that can get you to feel guilty and confess everything you've ever done, even if you haven't done it. Mom has only used it a handful of times, but Rose is already a master at it.
Each time it's been used on me, I felt the need the squirm and apologize, even when the look isn't being directed at me—like right now, for instance.
To my surprise, both Mom and Dad bow their heads like misbehaving children, boring holes into the floor near the feet.
"Mom, we—"
"Marie, it's just—"
"It's fine," Gran tells them with more gentleness than what I was expecting. "I understand, but we'll be talking later."
My parents mumble something under their breath, still staring at the floor.
The sight of this is too hysterical, and it's too much for us to handle. Rose, Jasper, and I chuckle under our breath but stop short as Gran levels us with a raised eyebrow.
"Something funny, kids?"
We quickly shut up and shake our heads. I press my lips tightly together in an effort to contain any lingering giggles wanting to escape.
Gran smirks, waving us away with a flick of her wrist. "Go on and look through that bag there," she tells us, pointing at the small black and neon green checkered carry-on near her feet. "There's something in there for each of you."
Needing no other invitation, we dive for it like small children, eagerly taking out our presents while Gran wanders into the kitchen, looking at the ingredients cluttering the counters.
"You're serious about cooking Thanksgiving dinner, huh? This should be interesting."
"Mom," Dad warns.
"I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying, if it's too stressful, I can help."
"Renee has it covered. You're not cooking."
There's no response, but knowing Gran, I'm sure she's made a face. Since neither one of my parents say anything more, I can bet she did it behind their back, or they're just attempting to keep the peace.
Rose and Jasper fawn over their gifts while I examine my new charcoal pencils, rushing eagerly up to my room to test them out. They're not a brand I've heard of before, but in my experience, I've found that sometimes, that makes them the best kind.
Two hours pass, and I'm still entranced in my drawings, not even conscious of what I'm sketching at the moment. All I can marvel over is how smooth the pencils glide over the paper and the rich quality it leaves behind.
The spell isn't broken until a familiar loud shout reverberates throughout the house.
"What do you mean she's staying here?!" Grandmother shrieks.
Heavily, I sigh and hang my head, whining a little under my breath. Now that Grandmother has found out Gran is staying here, she'll be over from sunrise to sundown, wanting to make sure Gran doesn't "poison" us with her wild ways.
Plus, she has to make sure she's getting in as much time with us as Gran, not because she loves us and wants to spend time with her family … no, she needs to make sure someone doesn't upstage her because that is what's important.
On my desk, I spot my cell phone, the blue light blinking rapidly. Remembering my texting exchange with Edward, I sweep up the device and unlock it.
What? What are you talking about? ~E
His next message was sent an hour later.
Everything okay? ~E
Needing someone to vent to, I reply.
Yeah, I guess. By the end of the holidays, I'll need to be committed, though. Both bickering Grandmothers came, and one of them just found out the other was staying here. ~B
Surprisingly, his reply is instant.
Oh, shit. If you were old enough, I'd say you could drink, but that won't work. Oh well, Good luck, and consider this karma for you. ;) ~E
Gee, thanks, asshat. ~B
"Where are my grandchildren? This is what happens when you don't discipline them, Renee! They're rude and disrespectful."
Knowing my presence is being summoned, though why I don't know, I head downstairs, checking my phone once more, chuckling at Edward's reply.
No problem, anytime. ~E
Seconds later, my phone buzzes again.
If you need an escape, just holler. ~E
I tap the phone against my chin as I think over his offer. He may regret this suggestion later, but there's no way he can take it back. I have it in writing … and if things get any worse than what happened today, I'll definitely be taking him up on it.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I know it's a slow burn for these two, but it'll be worth it!
So, who's read Midnight Sun? What did you think? :)
See you soon!