52. Waiting for the Sun
As soon as the numbers on the display settled, I scooped Renesmee off the scale. It only confirmed what I could easily see and feel; our daughter was getting bigger. I grinned at Carlisle, pleased with how healthy she was. Most new parents had to wait days or even weeks to confirm that their child thrived.
His mind was full of charts and figures, but for once, he did not return my smile. He extrapolated the curve of her growth, and my smile fell as I watched his mind in horror. He imagined how she would look if her growth continued to progress at its current rate. The tiny, porcelain doll in my arms would quickly grow into a radiant young woman whose youthful beauty would shift too soon into a mature grace, and from there to an old woman with a sweet smile and a snow-white cloud of hair. Only, she would not truly be old; she would never live long enough to get that chance.
"No," I breathed and clutched Renesmee to my chest.
If Bella had lived out her human life, I would have felt myself lucky to get eighty years to spend in her angelic presence. If any of us had lived out our human lives, we would all be dead or close to it by now. If her growth continued its current pace, Renesmee, who had grown in a month what should have taken her a year, would live out the length of hers in a fraction of that time.
"Is there nothing you can do?"
Perhaps if we catered to the human side of her?
"In what way?"
"How do you stand that?" Jacob muttered to no one in particular. "Hey, bloodsucker. Care to fill the rest of us in?"
"Carlisle believes Renesmee is..." I tried to find a word mild enough not to frighten her, but would still get my point across to him, "...mortal."
"And still growing very quickly," Carlisle said.
"Wait... wait a minute, doc. What are you saying? You think she's gonna die?"
"All things do eventually."
"Okay, but... she's only one day old. Why are you talking about the end of her life now?"
"Because," I said through my teeth, "as fast as she is growing, it is probably going to happen sooner, rather than later."
"But - " Jacob's husky voice broke. ...he can do something, right?
"I don't know. How would you propose we cater to her human side?"
Before Jacob could stammer an answer, Rosalie said, "We fed Bella blood to meet Renesmee's vampire thirst. Feed her like she was human."
"Formula?" I said doubtfully. "Why not milk?"
"I picked up some of both," Esme said.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go get it." Jacob's tone displeased all of us, but Esme chose to overlook his rude behavior.
She felt the debt we owed him was far from paid, and she wanted me to have another chance to feed my daughter anyway. A second later, we could hear her in the kitchen as she opened a cabinet, poured water into a pot, and turned the stove on.
Renesmee was confused by our unhappy tones when we had been smiling only moments earlier. Jacob stared at her with such an expression of dread and misery that she reached for him with a desire to comfort him similar to what I had seen when she had inadvertently hurt Bella. The moment she leaned in his direction, he was reaching for her. I let him take her from me only because of how much she wanted him, too.
"Alice," Jacob moaned. "What do you see happening to her?"
"I can't see her."
"But," I protested, "I thought your visions had come back. You saw Bella wake up, didn't you?"
"I-I-I think so. That is, I'm pretty sure..."
"Alice!"
"Well, I'm sorry!" she said with a huff. "I've always seen her becoming a vampire, at least, I always had until she disappeared. I've been certain it was her fate all along, but having Jacob here messes everything up!"
"Oh, I mess things up, right," Jacob muttered sarcastically. "You couldn't see Bella before I came over, but blame me, sure."
"Nobody blames you for anything, Jacob," Carlisle assured him.
"Speak for yourself," Rosalie said under her breath.
Trying not to sound like I was begging for a positive answer, I said, "Look again, Alice. Three days from now, what do you see?"
I wondered what it would mean for our family if Alice never truly regained her sight. She had expected - and so had I - that once Bella was separated from the child, her future would become clear, but the harder Alice strained to see Bella, the fuzzier everything seemed to become.
"Maybe you're trying too hard?" I suggested.
In hasty response to Alice's wordless exclamation, Carlisle said, "Perhaps if you came at the problem from another angle. Do you see me returning to work?"
Alice blinked rapidly, then shut her eyes and concentrated once more. As she focused on Carlisle and stopped fighting for visions that wouldn't come, colors blossomed and voices echoed in her mind. I laughed with relief when I saw my father dressed in his white coat, striding down a hospital corridor. He was whistling to himself and smiling at the nurses he passed.
The ease with which he smiled couldn't have been fake. Bella would be fine. She would!
Excited, I said, "Do you get any sense of a time frame?"
No. Soon, but not too soon.
"Well, that's all right. And..." I considered reaching out to ruffle her hair, but she saw my plan and was prepared to duck away before I could touch her. Instead, I chuckled and said, "Thank you."
I take it she saw something?
"Yes." At Jacob's annoyed sigh, I elaborated, "Alice saw you in the hospital, wearing your lab coat and whistling."
"That is good news!" Carlisle tweaked Renesmee's chin and went to put his instruments away.
Reassured by the return of our smiles, Renesmee decided it was time to fill her stomach and soothe her throat.
"Esme is fixing something for you right now," Jacob told her when she pushed the memory of her last bottle into his mind.
Renesmee looked pointedly around the room, flashed the faces of all of us for him to see, except Esme, then remembered me getting the blood from the cooler.
"We want you to try something new this time. No, Renesmee," I snickered when Jacob yelped. As I relieved him of the thirsty girl - it was my turn to feed her! - I said, "You have bitten him before; that isn't new. This is milk - something all babies drink. Esme is just warming it for you."
Minutes later, my mother had returned and was handing the bottle to me, but when Renesmee caught a whiff of its contents, she pushed it firmly away.
"I know it doesn't smell as good," Esme said, "but will you try it anyway?"
I didn't need to read Renesmee's thoughts to understand the look on her face. Surely we didn't expect her to drink that. There was more force to the images she pushed into my mind this time. She had tolerated the water, but that had been relatively odorless. Something which the warm milk was definitely not.
"Many things taste different from how they smell," Carlisle said in his most persuasive tone. "Milk is good for you and has things your body needs in order to grow."
Her little nose wrinkled when she sniffed at the bottle again.
Perhaps it would help if you were not making faces too? Esme thought sternly.
Composing myself as best I could, I added my own entreaty, "Just give it a chance, please? If you truly don't like it, I won't ask you to finish, but won't you at least give it a taste?"
She heaved a sigh worthy of an adolescent girl, rather than an hours-old infant, but reached for the bottle and guided it to her mouth. I had to give her credit; she did try. Renesmee bravely took two whole swallows before shoving the bottle full of milk away.
I rather wished she hadn't tried so hard and found myself fighting not to gag along with her over the sticky, pasty coating the milk had left in her mouth. It was only because I was already watching her thoughts that I saw her decision to launch herself at Jacob.
"Whoa! Hey, no!" He would taste far better than the milk had - even I had to agree - but that didn't mean he was an acceptable alternative.
"Give her to me!" he demanded while I struggled to both hold on to her and keep him from taking her.
"So she can drink your blood instead? Will somebody get her a real bottle already!"
"Sorry!" "Sorry!" Esme and Rosalie chorused. They flashed over to the cooler and cabinets, but weren't fast enough to suit Renesmee. She let out a wail of indignation, astonishingly high and clear, and when they reached for each other again, I had no choice but to let her go to him. Jacob cradled my daughter against his chest and let out a long hiss when she bit his hand hard. Her playful nips from earlier had been nothing compared with the force of her bite now, but he didn't try to jerk it away.
"Edward, shouldn't you stop her?" Jasper's eyes darted between the three of us as though I were calmly watching her make a human kill, but she wasn't truly drinking Jacob's blood. They held each other's eyes, while she held the side of his palm in her mouth. It was already healing, but the tiny swallows of his blood and the salty taste of his skin were enough to counter the awful stickiness the milk had left behind.
Tears shimmered in Renesmee's beautiful chocolate eyes. She wasn't even sharing her thoughts with him, yet communicated her remorse quite clearly. She hadn't meant to bite so hard, but that had tasted absolutely revolting. She reached eagerly for the bottle Esme offered this time and made relieved grunts as she drank the blood it contained.
A strange ache settled into my chest as I watched the two of them. It was hard not to take her rejection personally when I had been, once again, unable to feed my own daughter, yet there Jacob stood, rocking slightly from side to side while she snuggled against his warm chest. She seemed to enjoy the contrast to the cold blood and relaxed in his arms while she drank.
Deliberately turning my back on them, I strode over to Bella's side. She seemed so peaceful, an innocent girl, enjoying a deep, dreamless sleep. Her fingers remained lax when I slid mine through them.
"No, it's better that he does," I said in response to several thoughts. "But please, feed her somewhere else, won't you?"
"Come, Jacob," Esme said. "We'll try something else again, later."
Everyone except Carlisle followed them downstairs. He joined me, standing with Bella between us, and checked her vital signs once more. Nothing had changed, excepting the spreading of my venom - something which was both reassuring and worrisome. How much longer could this last?
I know what you are thinking.
"Remind me who's the telepath here?"
He laughed softly and thought, I do not need to read your mind to know when you are upset.
My attempt at a nonchalant shrug didn't fool him. "It's fine, Carlisle, really. I'll feed her after we hunt. It will be easier to watch then."
He accepted my explanation with a shrug of his own, which I couldn't help but to chuckle at.
She is quite something though, is she not? As thirsty as any newborn vampire, she bit Jacob, but did not drink his blood.
"I know."
That astonishing infant is nothing like the immortal children I once knew.
"No," I agreed with fervent relief.
Her very existence calls into question much that was once assumed about us.
"Is that your version of 'I told you so'?"
"No," he said with a laugh. "I could not have told you of her, as she is nothing I could ever have imagined."
I could only nod in understanding. I had imagined a child of Bella's, had longed to be able to give her that child, but always I had pictured a human infant. Only after she was pregnant had I imagined a vampire baby, and then, it had been the stuff of nightmares - were I still capable of sleep.
Reality was the exact opposite. That which I had feared had not come to fruition. Renesmee had Bella's sweet innocence, her human eyes and heart, yet none of her frailty. She was a vampire, with our strength, perfect recall, and capacity for understanding, without having endured the pain of transformation and who was not controlled by her thirst - though she felt it keenly. If, prior to conceiving, Bella had been willing to imagine having my baby, I rather thought she would have been exactly right.
Well, except that I had given her a daughter, not a son.
And I doubted her imaginings would have included Jacob's imprinting on our newborn baby girl. Admittedly, his concern over her wellbeing was more irritating than worrisome - no parent enjoyed being constantly questioned - but he was far more attached than could be easily explained away.
Whatever Bella's opinion of the imprint, we would have to find some way to explain why this young man - who looked to be in his twenties - was absorbed in a girl child who so obviously bore no relation to him. No sibling story would be able to explain their bond; her pale, slightly glistening skin tone was nothing like the rich brown color of the Quileutes.
Regardless of how we rearranged ourselves on paper, the seven of us always drew some kind of attention. My family was larger than ever now, with Bella and Renesmee bringing us up to nine. Just adding Bella to our story would not have complicated matters all that much, and having a child might even have added plausibility to our cover stories. But where would Jacob fit in? And what of Seth and Leah? Where would they go when we left?
I scoffed at myself and decided not to care. Bella or Carlisle would know what to do to placate the humans' need for explanations. I needn't concern myself over something so far in the future.
By the time explaining their relationship was something we had be concerned with, the gap in their apparent ages might be negligible, or even reversed. As fast as she was growing, Renesmee would not stay little for very long.
However odd Jacob's devotion for my daughter might seem to an outsider, the truth was simple: he could never allow her to come to harm. But that was exactly the trouble with the werewolves, and Sam's Emily was proof. He didn't have to allow it; anyone near them could be unintentionally hurt or killed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!
I fingered a lock of her hair and amended my thoughts. Any human could be accidentally harmed, but a vampire was not so easily damaged. Bella could visit with the wolves all she chose after she woke; if anyone got out of line, it would not be her hand that would be broken.
Renesmee already demonstrated a strength and resilience that no human infant had ever attained. If any child was safe with them, she surely was. And in his care, she would be that much more protected from others who might harbor ill intent toward her. Whatever dangers Fate chose to throw at Renesmee, no doubt the werewolf who was forever devoted to her safety would be more than capable of helping us fend them off.
The problem was: he kept wanting to protect Renesmee from us. His eyes followed her every movement, and those of whoever was holding her, constantly analyzing whether Rosalie was leaning close to kiss her cheek or bite her throat, if Emmett's teeth were bared in a grin of delight or attack, and whether or not Jasper should even be allowed near Renesmee at all, considering his less-than-perfect control. Jasper unconsciously agreed with Jacob and declined Esme's offer for the chance to hold her, but didn't hesitate to bask in our happiness.
And we were happy, in a way that our family had never been before.
For Jacob was wrong. I had been wrong. It was Bella who had been right - not just about Renesmee, but about me. About us. No damned creature or soulless monster could have had a part in the creation of such a perfect being as mine and Bella's daughter. She was a combination of the best of both vampire and human, and seeing the good in her was like being shown the good in ourselves. We weren't human, but that did not make us inherently evil.
And if we were not automatically evil, then neither would Bella be. She would forever remain the pure, sweet girl I first fell in love with, as I would forever be the boy she loved, Bella's husband, and father of her daughter.
I couldn't wait for Bella to wake and meet her!
Our family had not quite finished readying the cabin when Bella's unexpected pregnancy prompted our early return. Alice had nearly everyone making up for lost time now, Seth included. In a brief moment between projects, Emmett and Jasper came home to pry Rosalie away from Renesmee. If they had any hope of finishing before Bella woke, they would need her help, too.
My sister was resisting; she felt she had already missed too much when she left yesterday and wanted to wait until Renesmee slept before leaving again. Unfortunately for her, it was Jacob who looked closer to falling asleep, but that would have meant giving her into the protection of one of us - specifically Rose - something which he was resisting.
I wasn't sure if their subtle power play was worse, or the more blatant throwing of insults. Renesmee simply liked hearing everyone's voices, and happily reclined against Jacob's chest while listening with wide-eyed interest.
"I'm tellin' ya, Jazz," Emmett continued, "Bella had to've planned it this way."
"You're reaching."
"Am not! Lookit: Stimpson. Jacob. Cat. Boom."
"It's a coincidence; I know hundreds of people with J names, myself included."
"It fits, and you know it."
"Stimpy was a cat, Emmett. Not a dog. Not a wolf. A cat."
"I know! Ren was the dog. That's why it's funny!"
"Emmett has a point," Rosalie said. "Jacob is an idiot, so that fits, too."
"Says the pot to the kettle," Jacob muttered with a snort.
"Bella rarely watches television at all," I interjected, "and I seriously doubt she would have watched that vial show, much less wanted her child and best friend named after its characters."
"But Bells is all about nicknames, Eddie," Emmett argued back from downstairs. "If your kid had been a boy, she was gonna call him EJ, yeah? And the mutt here is Jake, and when was the last time she let anyone call her Isabella?"
"Yes, Em," I said patiently, "but that is partly the point; if she had wanted to shorten Renesmee's name, she would have said so, just as she did when planning on calling a boy EJ."
"You're overthinking it. As usual."
Fighting back a laugh, I scowled at the floor as though I could see him looking up at me through it and said, "What I think, is that Renesmee is a beautiful and unique name that perfectly fits Bella's gorgeous, one-of-a-kind child."
"It's an unmanageable mouthful, is what it is."
"Shorten it if you must, but you are not nicknaming her or Jacob after those horrid cartoon characters."
"Spoilsport."
"A rose by any other name?" I suggested.
Emmett had my sister by the waist before I had finished speaking. She giggled when he nuzzled her neck, and he agreed, "Would still smell as sweet."
"Uh-huh," Jacob said around a yawn. "Call 'em what you want - leeches, ticks, Cullens - all vampires stink."
Rosalie left Emmett's embrace to pluck Renesmee from Jacob's loose hold and snarled, "You're free to leave at any time!"
Jacob automatically reached out to take her back, though my sister was already standing on the other side of the room. He tried to turn the motion into a natural stretch, tucked his hands behind his head, and wiggled his shoulders deeper into the couch's cushions. "Sure, sure. Right after my nap."
"How about right now? I would hate to think Renesmee Cullen's stench offended you!"
"Wait, what? No! I didn't mean - She smells great, all warm and clean."
"And here I was thinking you didn't even know what 'clean' smelled like. How many months has it been since your last bath?"
He turned his head to sniff his exposed armpits and said, "I had a dunk in the river yesterday. I'm good."
"Disgusting beast," she muttered while Jacob snickered. Renesmee distracted Rosalie from bickering with him further, for which I was quite grateful.
Huh. That must have been how Carlisle felt whenever she and I had fought. The man truly was the embodiment of patience, putting up with the two of us for most of a century.
It was rather surprising that even Jacob liked the way Renesmee smelled. We all thought she smelled wonderful, enough like a vampire to counter the enticing human aroma, but to a werewolf, vampires smelled terrible. Shouldn't the half-vampire child have smelled at least a little off to him, if nothing else? Or perhaps he only didn't notice her vampire scent with so many of us around.
I couldn't help but to burst out laughing at the expression of surprise on Renesmee's face when Jacob began snoring.
After Rosalie fed her yet another bottle, Renesmee began showing signs of being tired too. A yawn escaped her little rosebud mouth, and she snuggled against my sister, as comfortable in the cool, hard arms of her vampire aunt as she had been when the hot-blooded werewolf had held her. She let out a sigh and swiftly relaxed into sleep. Rosalie began humming, tucked Renesmee's head under her chin, and ran light fingers through her bronze curls.
Emmett had not craved a child in the way Rosalie always had, but he did regret not being able to provide her with one. Watching her rocking the child she had fought for seemed to make his chest ache with an overwhelming sense of love and pride. I turned my gaze back to my own amazing wife, grateful that I, too, knew what it was to love and be loved by a strong woman.
After several long minutes of enjoying the emotions in the house, Jasper prompted, "That last coat should be dry by now. We'd best get back to it."
"I dunno if it'll be worse if they want us to paint again," Emmett said with a groan, "or help them shop."
"Would you prefer the newlyweds live here? You do know Esme likes this house?"
"I don't mind fixin' them a house. I just don't see the point in decorating something that won't even be standing in a few days."
"Like you two haven't smashed houses apart before."
"And will again!" he said as he wiggled his eyebrows at his wife. "But if anyone cares what color the walls are in the middle o' makin' whoopee... you're doing it wrong."
Of their own accord, my lips spread into a broad grin. Bella hadn't noticed when I had torn holes in the walls, much less bothered to worry about their color. Delighted to be able to join in with their banter for once, I said, "With as many of your rooms as I've painted over the years, perhaps it is you who needs some pointers?"
"Hey, it's not my fault you let Alice and Esme bully you into helping with the smelly jobs. Why do you think the roof always needs my attention whenever there's decorating to be done?"
"I always knew, but I believe that's the last time you get to use that particular excuse!"
Jasper burst out laughing at Emmett's crestfallen expression.
"Cheer up, monkey man," Rosalie said before kissing his cheek. "I promise to need your help with my car the next time there's painting to be done." She headed for the stairs to bring Renesmee to me, and called over her shoulder, "But for now, Esme says the plan is to paint first, then go shopping, then paint some more."
Emmett groaned while Jasper chortled, but the two were ready to head back out as soon as Rosalie could pull herself away. She had handed my sleeping daughter to me, but still hesitated to leave, even for the shortest time. She brushed a thumb across Renesmee's forehead with a softness in her eyes I didn't recognize. Or perhaps it was the hard edge of resentment that had gone. There was no mistaking the happiness in the smile she flashed at me. Seconds later, the three had left to join the rest of my family.
There was a cabin that needed finishing.
Throughout the long night, they came and went. Alice wasn't trying to keep the interior of the cabin a secret from me in the way she had done with the wedding decorations, but I wasn't all that interested in spying. It was to be our home, even if only for a short time, and I could study it at leisure later. I did wonder how much of the time Carlisle spent postulating over Alice's gift and why it would - and wouldn't - work was out of true scientific curiosity, and how much due to him trying to get away from the paint fumes, but at least his theories were interesting to listen to. Alice's chagrin when his inevitable logic made sense of her blind spots had me chuckling, but understanding her problem was the first step to getting around it.
Carlisle returned home to check on Bella and measure Renesmee, a feat we managed to accomplish without waking either of them. I tried to shelve my worry over how fast our daughter continued to grow, but it wasn't easy. How old would she look by the time Bella woke? Would she miss her daughter's first steps?
Neither did they wake when Charlie called. Without being asked, or asking permission, when the phones began their despondent ringing for a third time during Seth's visit, he went around and turned off the various ringers. He was worried about Charlie, but his easy optimism was a refreshing change. It would all work out somehow; he was sure of it.
Seth watched Bella's transformation with unabashed curiosity and compared her current physical condition with what he knew of vampire mythology.
There had been a time in their history when humans would dig up the remains of recently deceased loved-ones, convinced they were rising from their graves to prey upon the townsfolk. Bella's corpse-like stillness and bloodless complexion were what he would have expected, given the death humans were rumored to undergo before joining the ranks of the eternal undead.
Through clenched teeth, I explained to him that what he was seeing was not normal. Keeping the emotion from my voice as best I could, I told him of the morphine, and of Carlisle's belief that the medication was protecting her from the pain she would otherwise be experiencing.
Seth's brows wrinkled with concern. He doesn't know for sure? Haven't you guys done this before?
"He tried. With Emmett. But he was already changing when Carlisle injected him. Bella had morphine in her before I bit her. He thinks that's the difference this time."
"Good thing Carlisle's a doctor and can get stuff like that."
I could only nod. Not that we were above stealing whatever we needed, if we were unable to procure it legally. What did human laws and possessions matter to a vampire, especially when a loved one was at stake?
"Wonder if the humans got any legends right? We aren't what they think, either."
"You aren't what you think."
"Um, what?"
"You are not a werewolf, not really."
"Edward, I dunno if you noticed, but I kinda change from a human into a giant wolf and back again."
"Yes," I snickered, "your shape shifts, but you are still you in either form."
"What're you saying?"
"Just... there is more to this world than any of us know," I mumbled. "I wouldn't take anything for granted, Seth. If there's a legend about it, chances are pretty good there are facts to back them up, if one were to look long enough."
A thoughtful frown crossed his face while he nodded. "I guess."
I wished Alice would come home so I could ask her to look for Bella's father. To most people, no news was good news, but when Alice's visions could no longer be counted upon to forewarn us of danger, that was not necessarily true. Even when she had been watching, Bella had managed to escape and visit Jacob.
The incorrect telephone numbers Esme had been giving Charlie were not going to delay him for much longer. Too soon, Charlie would get through to the CDC on his own and discover our ruse. What if he then decided to ignore Bella's reassurances and Carlisle's warnings and come here? Avoiding his calls would not prevent him from checking. Would Alice see when he did? Could we be gone before then?
There was nothing I could do about it either way.
I could only do as I had done for so many nights, and wait and watch while my beloved slept. Only now, I watched my daughter sleep, too.
To my amazement, Renesmee had yet to awaken by the time the soft illumination of early morning began flooding the room. When the first rays of direct sunlight touched them, her eyelids fluttered, the long lashes trembling lightly against her cheeks, and then opened to reveal eyes exactly the shade of Bella's. She blinked and rubbed a fist into her eyes, stretched out in my arms and yawned. She had grown so much while she slept and would undoubtedly be clamoring for another bottle soon, but for the moment, I simply stood in place, returning the grin she gave me.
Neither of us had made much noise, but it didn't surprise me that, within minutes of my daughter waking, Jacob would shuffle into the room, yawning and rumpling his hair.
"Morning, Nessie."
She reached toward him with a wide grin and made little grasping motions.
I paused in the act of passing her to him and raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "Nessie?"
"Yeah, well, there's no accounting for Bella's tastes. I mean, she did marry you."
"That's right," I said with a smirk. "She did."
He didn't wait for me to give Renesmee up on my own and reached out to take her. After spending the entire night holding my own warm-blooded daughter, my arms felt empty and cold without her. I attempted to cover my discomfiture by taking the chance to more closely examine Bella's progress. She had yet to move, nor had her heartbeat or breathing slowed.
It rankled that Jacob couldn't even spare Bella a glance! I wondered if it would still bother me as much if someone else held his attention, and not mine and Bella's infant daughter.
"Your big brother has a point, though; that name's a mouthful. I was gonna go with Ren, but he ruined that, and anything else sounded too much like someone else in this crazy family. I figure, this way, she's still special."
Somehow, I thought Bella would be pleased.
When Renesmee thirsted, Jacob went straight for the cooler without hesitation. I guessed, after I had spilled a cupful all over him, carefully pouring a unit of blood into the bottle himself wasn't such a big deal. Thankfully, he left the room to feed her downstairs. Rose was not pleased when she came home only minutes after Renesmee had finished her meal. Esme tried to soothe my sister by assuring her that she could feed her next time, but the mutual antagonism between Rosalie and Jacob didn't look to be easing any time soon.
Rose argued that the two were going shopping for supplies, and they might not be back quick enough. Esme didn't really need Rose, did she? Why not take Jacob shopping, instead?
With each passing minute in which she failed to wake, my worry over Bella's silent stillness grew. Time often seemed to crawl to a vampire's senses, but never had I waited through a longer few days than these. My beloved's physical differences were as obvious this morning as our daughter's. The venom had done nothing about the changes made to Esme's body during her pregnancy, but in Bella's case, the venom had fully restored her healthy curves. Her face had regained its heart shape with the return of her plump cheeks. Her flat tummy no longer looked like a rapidly deflated balloon. The only way in which she did not look like a pale replica of her old self was the slight bend in her back from the broken spine, which had yet to heal.
In fact, other than her broken spine, she did not look as though she had ever been pregnant at all.
I wondered if the difference was the speed at which their pregnancies had progressed, or if it were due to the fact that Esme had blossomed while carrying her child, whereas Bella had wasted away. Esme's pregnancy had been a healthy one; Bella's had not, and the venom was returning her to that state of perfect health in the same way it had mended Esme's bones, but left her soft curves.
I knew the moment the last of the morphine wore off. Still Bella did not wake.
Jacob decided it wasn't healthy for Renesmee to spend her entire life indoors and took her outside, where he lounged in the grass with her balanced on one knee.
I loved staring into her eyes, even through Jacob's senses. She found him nearly as fascinating as he found her and, despite the new environment, it was Jacob who held her attention. He was so different from all the rest of us! His heart beat, he was hot, and his rich coloring was nothing like our pallor. She quite enjoyed the contrast between his skin color and hers, and it was some time before she looked away from him to spy the flowers sprinkled about our lawn. He picked one when she pointed imperiously at a nearby cluster and laughed at her expression of pleased surprise when he held it under her nose.
Nothing would suit, then, but that Jacob had to take her around to smell the different species of wildflowers that Esme had cultivated.
Like all animals, birds instinctively avoided vampires and would never consent to perch upon my finger, but Jacob had merely to sit in the grass and whistle, and was soon surrounded by a feathered audience. For once glad he never looked away from her for long, I witnessed the wonder play across my daughter's face as she focused on the birds' aerial acrobatics.
Flight! The very concept was staggering.
When Jacob held one up for closer inspection, she was aware of the blood flowing within the tiny creature and could hear the rapid heartbeat, but was interested only in the way the feathers lay, how they fluttered and caught the wind - wind which she could feel, though there was nothing to be seen. Yet the birds rode the air, soared and dove through it, and it moved her hair, making the curls dance as if they had a life of their own.
One of the birds lost a feather, and she spent most of an hour examining it with an intensity like no human child had ever displayed. The feather's iridescence was similar to her own luminous skin. Following Jacob's example, she ran her finger along the barbs, marveling at the softness of the down.
Carlisle was pleased to find them sitting in the shade of a tree when he came home to take his regular measurements of his granddaughter's growth, but I found it hard to pay the results any attention. Renesmee grew too quickly; knowing the specifics changed nothing. Despite being quite thirsty after a morning spent outside, she flatly refused the bottle he tried to feed her. When my father attempted to enlist my help, I refused. Milk was natural, even when slightly processed for commercial distribution. The powdered formula he was offering this time was wretched stuff, and I was not about to subject her to something worse than milk.
Eventually, he relented and gave her the blood she demanded, but her exclusive feeding preference concerned him almost as much as the speed at which she grew.
I wasn't particularly worried; she had been willing to try the milk. We would simply need to broaden our offerings until we found foods she liked. If it turned out she was unable to tolerate any kind of human food, there was no doubt she would learn to accept a diet of animal blood. At least her eyes were naturally brown, even when drinking human blood; if we had to supplement with donated units from time to time, her eyes would never burn with the evidence.
I ached for Bella's eyes to open. I ached to see recognition and love in them. I ached for it to be over!
After returning Renesmee into the care of her werewolf protector, Carlisle joined me to check on Bella. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart as well as I, yet feeling her pulse reassured him. He would be yet more assured if she would react to him in any way, but not even her eyes were moving beneath her closed lids.
"Still no change?"
"None."
He leaned close and inhaled deeply. "There's no scent of morphine left."
"I know."
"Bella?" he asked. "Can you hear me?" We both watched her face carefully for any flicker of acknowledgement. There were none. He straightened and eyed her with a frown, but seemed more curious than concerned. Perhaps she would respond to you?
"Bella? Bella, love? Can you open your eyes?" I slid my fingers into her lax grip. "Can you squeeze my hand?"
This endless waiting for Bella to come back to life was intolerable!
The words I had been trying not to think forced their way from my mouth. "Maybe... Carlisle, maybe I was too late."
"Listen to her heart, Edward. It is stronger than even Emmett's was. I have never heard anything so vital. She will be perfect."
"And her - her spine?" I had to ask. Bella hated having to rely on anyone; spending eternity as an invalid had not been part of her plan.
"Her injuries weren't so much worse than Esme's. The venom will heal her as it did Esme."
Frustrated by his easy dismissal of my fears, I insisted, "But she's so still. I must have done something wrong."
"Or something right, Edward." When I shot him a furious glare, he hastened, "Son, you did everything I could have and more. I am not sure I would have had the persistence, the faith it took to save her. Stop berating yourself. Bella is going to be fine."
His voice was firm, and his gaze held not even a shadow of doubt. Deliberately, he recalled the way Esme had looked when he had found her in the morgue. The humans had written her off as dead upon arrival, and had not even bothered attempting to revive someone so badly injured. Rose's attackers had inflicted internal damage aside from the rape, and Emmett, too, had been badly damaged. His skin had been gouged, ripped, and torn from the bear's teeth and claws, where Bella's single surgical wound had been clean.
The venom was working. Her body was changing as it was supposed to. I would simply have to believe she would make a full recovery until they were all proven right. I couldn't bear to think they might be wrong.
But if it was working, then she surely was suffering.
"She must be in agony."
"We don't know that," he countered again. "She had so much morphine in her system. We don't know the effect that will have on her experience."
I thought he protested a little too strongly. I could believe she would wake; believing she could change without feeling it was something else, something which I was not capable of doing. But how was she remaining still if she could feel? How was she doing this? Perhaps it was the broken spine which protected her?
Afraid to disturb her if she was truly resting, I brushed my fingers against one of the places where I had bit her arm and whispered, "Bella, I love you. Bella, I'm sorry."
Esme and Rosalie returned amidst a nearly incomprehensible flurry of white lace and ribbons. Their voices sounded as happy as their thoughts, so I supposed the fluff meant the two had been successful on their shopping trip - whatever that meant! My sister scooped Renesmee up the moment she spied her and was treated to a play-by-play of her morning with the birds.
Rosalie took offense that Jacob couldn't have waited until she was back to do something so special as to take Renesmee outside. He pointed out that Nessie had shown her anyway, so what was the big deal? Esme reminded her that the birds wouldn't have come so close if any of us had been out there, which didn't exactly soothe Rosalie's ire, nor did his casual renaming of Bella's daughter. She decided to cover up being irritated with Jacob by pronouncing Nessie's clothes to be much too small and whisked her upstairs to Alice's room, where there was a mountain of tiny clothes ready and waiting.
I guessed it didn't take foreknowledge to anticipate the clothing needs of a rapidly growing child.
As the two women began giggling like school-girls, Carlisle eyed me questioningly, but I just shrugged, uninterested in describing their fashion show. Esme was taking pictures of each outfit Renesmee allowed them to dress her in and could show him later, if he truly wanted to see. Nessie found the process of dressing to be mildly interesting, and enjoyed the textures and color variety, though she did not understand all the fuss they were making. She did enjoy their happiness however, and played along willingly.
When the three tired of their game - or perhaps simply ran out of clothes - they returned downstairs to find Jacob and Seth helping themselves to the food in the kitchen. Leah had refused their invitation to join them, but I had a feeling she would be willing to eat something they fixed, so long as it was away from here. Esme offered to cook something in lieu of the sandwiches they were assembling, but they declined. She tried to cover her disappointment, but Seth correctly interpreted the tone of her voice, and requested a hot meal later, which she instantly began planning with a mind toward foods Renesmee might enjoy.
Jacob instantly found fault with Esme's suggestion of trying food already. Nessie was barely two days old! Shouldn't they stick with blood for the time being?
Rosalie found his change of heart highly amusing, and the two began sniping at each other over what was best for Renesmee again.
Perhaps you could leave this room long enough to mediate? They are fighting over your daughter, after all.
"No, I'm staying right here. They'll sort it out."
"An interesting situation, and I had thought I had seen just about everything."
"I'll deal with it later. We'll deal with it," I amended and slid my fingers into her hand again.
"I am sure, between the five of us, we can keep it from turning into bloodshed," he teased.
"I don't know which side to take. I'd love to flog them both. Well, later." When I didn't have to leave Bella to do it.
"I wonder what Bella will think - whose side she'll take."
"I'm sure she'll surprise me. She always does."
He squeezed my shoulder briefly, then went to snag a couple of units from the cooler. After a slight pause, he thought it would be far better to remove all the blood from the room where Bella would soon wake. Arms piled high with bags of human blood, he left me to continue my vigil alone.
