A/N: Hey everyone! I'm glad there was much positive feedback on my last chapter; I wasn't sure how it was going to go over, but I'm happy most people seemed to like it! I hope you enjoy this one (away from the dire stuff, thank God, and very fluffy, like a lot of this story). Please let me know what you think, if you have the desire! :)
Chapter 23: Home
Carine was halfway through her first work shift since the car accident, and she was thankful that it felt almost normal. Her colleagues had given her more than enough leeway, but she was happy to be back, and they were happy to have her. As she pushed through the swinging door from the operating room, she removed her disposable surgical mask and pulled her hair loose from her cap, shaking it out. She made her way to her office to finalize some charts, and as she passed the staff with the occasional nod of the head or smile, she thought back on the past few days.
It had been a week since Edythe had awoken from her fever, and nearly two weeks since the accident itself. Charlie did not find anything amiss at the scene other than deer, and so no foul or supernatural play was suspected, especially after Beau's testimony of seeing a herd right before the crash. The truck had been scrapped, something none of the Cullens minded in the least. It had taken a little push, but Beau had finally begrudgingly accepted that they would replace the truck; he did not back down completely though, insisting on a modest model. And so it was now routine to see his brand new navy blue Honda parked on the curb outside Charlie's house or in the hospital lot.
The Cullens could tell Beau wasn't thrilled by the car, but he did admit it went faster and was far more reliable and safer than the truck had ever been; Carine and Earnest had been adamant about one of the newer models with added safety features, including automatic stop and lane change warnings. Such features were not needed on the Cullen's own cars, and was honestly more aggravating when they came with the models, but usually Royal would simply disable them. The vampires appreciated their existence now, and didn't complain when they had to drive the Honda.
Beau had returned to school earlier that week, and he had been battling keeping everyone at bay with rumors and retelling stories. It was wearing on him, having to relive the experience over and over, and finally the teachers and principal had stepped in to discourage the student body from badgering him about it, especially since Edythe had not and would not be returning to school. Though Beau was alone at school in most ways—which he hated—he knew he only had to call for one of the Cullens to be by his side if he needed it. His new adopted-in-every-way-that-mattered siblings had taken turns to watch him on the boundary of school property, hidden by the shadows of the forest, acting as lookout for Victor or any other threat. One or two would stay nearby, while the others would run patterns, expanding their perimeter more and more as they searched for the redheaded nomad. So far, their searches had been fruitless, but that seemed to just drive them harder.
Because of their preoccupation, Royal, Eleanor, Jessamine, and Archie stayed out for most of the day, leaving Edythe with Carine or Earnest. They had apologized for their absence, not wanting her to think they had gotten over it, but she assured them she didn't think that, and she didn't mind. Honestly, she internally preferred it; she hated the constant eyes on her, and the less of them there were, the more at ease she felt. Earnest stayed with her practically all of the time, and Carine joined them whenever she wasn't working; neither of them hardly went home, only for 'errands' or to 'sleep' to keep up the minimum appearances. Beau came by immediately after school and stayed until late into the night. He brought her the school work she was missing and they worked through it together, with Earnest's aid. Edythe, having been through the subjects multiple times, finished quickly and she or Earnest would help Beau if he needed it, which he only ever did with Calculus.
Carine and Earnest had spoken with Principal Green and had arranged for Edythe's school work to be sent home and, when the teachers realized she was going through the material quickly, they gave her the advanced work that had been planned farther out into the school year. Of course, they knew she would have no trouble with any of the work with her father there to 'tutor' her but they were surprised that Beau had jumped onto the same cycle; Earnest had begun to tutor Beau in the material after Edythe had finished it.
As a result, the Cullen parents and Charlie had scheduled another meeting with the principal and discussed the merits of putting both Beau and Edythe on an accelerated path, as based on their progress, they would be fit to finish before Thanksgiving. When the news of the teenagers' applications for early acceptance for college was brought up, the idea of such astute Forks High School students gave the principal and police chief the incentive to work out the details. Beau still had to go to school physically, as legal statures mandated, but he was left to independent study to work on the material during class. Beau was thrilled that he could be left alone for most of the day, but he did try to convince Carine to write him a note out of Gym; she refused, but only because she did not want to push the school farther than they already had.
When she wasn't spending her time doing school work or talking to Beau and her family, Edythe worked on her mobility. The spinal fusion surgery had been intense, and Carine encouraged her to perform certain movements in small sessions throughout the day; even the simplest of exercises were now very difficult for her, though, and she wasn't able to hold her own weight for very long without needing support.
Carine, Earnest and Beau were more than willing to help with her exercises, encouraging her to work to get her range of motion back. But Carine ensured Edythe did not push her body too far. Her ribs were slowly healing; breathing was not as painful as it used to be for Edythe, but every time she laughed and yawned, there would be a small flinch to remind Carine they were still tender. Edythe's right shoulder, and, by extension, her hand and arm, was equally useless; she said she was thankful her vampirism had left her ambidextrous or she would have been even more handicapped than she already was.
Her fever had leveled out the following day, finally dropping to slightly above normal where it had stayed. The medications given to her were weaned off after another blood test was done to ensure her kidney function was normal after such stress on them; Dr. Vernetti said he never expected her numbers to be in such good shape considering the toxicity from the blood transfusion, but they were perfect. Carine and Edythe brushed it off as luck, but both of them suspected her former nature had something to do with it, not that they cared to drudge deeper.
The specialists Dr. Vernetti had contacted were equally surprised Edythe had survived the ordeal, and even more—as well as insatiably curious—by the revelation that she was a Rh-null blood type. Paul and Carine had to have a few very strong conversations with them about why they were not going to delve further into the discovery, and Carine had blatantly refused to allow Edythe's blood to be drawn for further testing. They wanted to keep this with minimal fanfare; the last thing any of them wanted was curious eyes.
Carine glanced up from her computer as her office phone rang; she lifted the device off its receiver and pressed it to her ear. She was slightly surprised to see the call was from the recovery department, and her thoughts turned concerned.
"Dr. Cullen?" A curt voice asked on the other line, and Carine recognized it.
"Hello, Lorah. What can I do for you?" The head nurse sighed deeply through her nose into the receiver.
"If you're not busy, can you come down? There's an issue concerning your daughter."
"I'll be right there," Carine promised, hanging up the phone and moving toward the door, grabbing her white coat from the coat tree on her way out. She walked briskly to the recovery ward, and found Lorah standing behind the desk, talking quietly to the two nurses standing in front of the counter. Carine recognized them as Edythe's nurses and her concern grew. Her hearing automatically turned to listen to Edythe's room and she was shocked to hear quiet, muffled sobs within, sounds she was only too familiar with. Thoroughly worried, she met the three women by the desk, who all seemed to relax at her approach.
"What's wrong?" she asked, hesitantly, immediately on edge by their behavior.
"Jamie went in to give Edythe her morning medications," Lorah began, "But she refused them."
Carine's eyebrows furrowed, completely thrown by the information. Of all the things that she was imagining in her mind on what could have possibly happened, this was not one of them.
"She's….very upset, Dr. Cullen," Diane said, her lined face pursed, her expression resigned and sad. "She wouldn't let us near her; she didn't want any medications or anything. She kicked us out of the room." Carine's eyes flashed to the door.
"Did she tell you why?" Carine asked, confused but also anxious, Edythe's strangled sounds of stress leaking thought the walls of her room to Carine's sensitive ears. The nurses shook their heads.
"She just told us to get out and called for your husband," Jamie said. "It's been too long since her last dose, poor thing." At her words, the nurse indicated the syringes she held in her hand.
"Carine." Earnest's low, panicked call reached her ears and she knew she needed to get to him and Edythe, and figure out what had happened. Carine's face smoothed and she nodded at the group.
"I'll take care of it." She promised, taking the syringes offered to her and moving toward the door. She stepped into the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. As she turned, her heart clenched slightly at the scene.
Earnest was sitting on the hospital bed, and Edythe was in his lap. One arm was wrapped around her, holding her to his chest, while the other hand stroked lightly across her face, his thumb smoothing the tears from her cheeks, though more continued to slip down and replace them. Edythe's eyes were red and watery, and her uneven breathing made it clear that she had been crying for a while. Her body was trembling, and braced. Earnest spoke softly to her, low nonsense words meant to soothe, his chin on top of her head as he rocked her ever so slightly. At Carine's entrance, both of them looked at her, Earnest with relief mixed with anxiety, Edythe with panic. She turned her face into Earnest's shoulder, not wanting to look into her mother's face.
Carine moved quickly to the bed, settling in front of Earnest, placing the full syringes on the side table, out of sight. She reached out to stroke her fingers against the exposed portion of Edythe's cheek.
"Edythe, hey, hey," she crooned quietly, trying not to let the worry bleed through into her tone as she tried to calm down her distraught daughter. Edythe cringed away from her and Carine froze, her eyes flashing up to meet Earnest's, who was equally thrown.
"I don't know what happened," he said, "I just heard her start yelling at the nurses to leave and her calling my name. When I came in, she was like this and she wouldn't say anything." Carine glanced down at Edythe, immediately taking inventory of her physical state. Her bandages looked the same as they did before, her vitals were all normal—aside from the effects of crying—and she didn't smell anything amiss physiologically.
But Carine's eyes went to Edythe's hand; while her other hand had been clinging to Earnest's shirt in a tight fist, her right hand was clamped around the plastic tubing of her IV line. Carine's eyebrows furrowed and she made to reach for the line, to pull Edythe's fingers away. But Edythe reacted, pulling her hand behind herself, away from Carine. Her mother was surprised, wondering what on Earth could have warranted that reaction. Her eyes returning to the small amount of Edythe's face that she could see.
"Edythe, please let go of the line," she requested calmly. Edythe shook her head into Earnest's chest.
"Sweetheart, you need the medication," Earnest told her, trying to cajole her; as he did, Carine reached for the IV once more and Edythe jerked back, and Carine saw the catheter threatening to come loose. Without thinking, she gripped Edythe's elbow, keeping the line steady to keep Edythe from ripping it out. She was stunned when Edythe fought against her hold, the green eyes finally coming up to meet her gaze. Carine was alarmed by the desperation there, as well as the pain, only slightly overpowered by the glint of stubborn defiance.
"Edythe," Carine said calmly, but with a firmness that she had rarely used before, "Don't fight me. We will discuss this, but only after you get the infusions." Edythe's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Carine met her gaze evenly, still holding onto her arm. Edythe knew Carine was probably the only one who could remove her hand without damaging the patency of the line. But she also knew Carine wouldn't unless she had no other choice.
Edythe's gaze softened slightly as she realized she didn't want to fight Carine, just as she didn't want to yell at the nurses; they had been nothing but kind to her. But all she could see was them being her prisoners, barring her in this room, with no way to escape. She was angry, she was scared, and not to mention the never-ending discomfort she was always in. She knew she wasn't acting rationally, but she couldn't find it in her to stop herself; all the emotions seemed to have taken over her brain.
The flicker in Edythe's expression was not lost on Carine, and her voice softened further, removing her hold on Edythe's arm, her fingers coming up to brush the tears from her cheek.
"Whatever it is, baby, we will help you, I promise. But I need you to take a deep breath," she coaxed her. Edythe's body relaxed her defensive, bracing posture, and her eyes dropped to the bed, guilt replacing her anger. As her body sagged, her body began to shake again, overcome by the familiar yet never comfortable all-consuming pain. It had been more than an hour since her dose of pain medication was supposed to have been administered, and she could feel the full effects of her broken body now. Carine and Earnest noticed the reaction.
"Sweetheart, you're in pain," Carine pleaded now, "Please, let me give you the medication." Edythe's trembling form in her husband's arms was scaring Carine, but, after a moment, she breathed out a small sigh as Edythe's hand around the IV line loosened. Carine took it from her and easily administered the syringes into the port. It only took a few seconds before Edythe's body slumped against her father as the drugs took effect, the relief apparent.
"That's it," Carine murmured as Edythe's head fell to Earnest's shoulder. "Deep breaths, you're okay." Edythe said nothing, her eyes refusing to meet hers as she was overcome with chagrin and regret for her behavior. She didn't want to act that way, even less so now that she could feel the pain medication flowing through her system, and she had no way to even try to begin to apologize. A few minutes past in silence as the vampires waited for the analgesics to take full effect before Carine spoke.
"Edythe, look at me." Carine ordered gently, turning her hand to pull Edythe's face away. Edythe obeyed reluctantly, not fighting Carine, and she met her gaze briefly before looking down.
"Tell us what happened," Carine said. She was concerned at the expression on Edythe's face. Since the moment she had stepped into the room, she could tell that Edythe was deeply upset, and it was not related to her pain; she could also see a touch of guilt. Her daughter's refusal to meet her gave Carine a clue about the reasoning for the secondary emotion.
"We're not angry, Edythe. We just need you to tell us what's wrong. I can't help you unless I know what is upsetting you," she promised her. Edythe glanced at her uneasily, confirming that Carine was right and Edythe was worried she would be reprimanded for the way she had treated the nurses. When a moment passed and neither vampire did anything, Edythe finally exhaled, her breath uneven.
"I want to go home," she began, keeping her gaze averted. Carine and Earnest exchanged a glance, slightly confused.
"We know, sweetheart," Earnest said, "And we want you home as well. But you're not well eno—" Edythe interrupted him; she didn't want to hear the placated answer he was about to give her.
"I don't like it here," she said, the phrase filled with conviction. "I don't like being sick, or hurt or weak. And being here makes it worse. I can't sleep, I can barely eat; the nurses never leave me alone. I'm sick of hearing this constant beeping and not being able to move or do anything without someone having to help me disentangle myself from the wires. It's too loud and I'm sick of it. Everything just hurts; moving hurts, breathing hurts, everything. I feel disgusting because I can't shower, the food here tastes like cardboard, and my arms are always sore from the catheters and blood draws. I just want to go home…"
Edythe's breath got quicker and her hands started to ring as she spoke; the agitation was obvious in her voice and behavior, but the tone was pleading. Carine's eyebrows had risen and her face grew more concerned as Edythe explained; a glance at Earnest's face showed he was just as surprised. But now she stopped her.
"Edythe," Carine said, "I know this is difficult, but you are safer here. We can keep an eye on you to make sure you're okay." Edythe looked up to meet her gaze.
"I'm not okay, though, and I won't be for a while, months, you said so yourself. I know that, but I can't stand being here anymore. I know I'm not going to magically recover once I leave, but if I'm going to be miserable, can't I at least be miserable in my own bed?"
As Carine looked into Edythe's face, she could see this was something she had been hiding for a while, and she was reminded again how private of a person Edythe was. For all her time as a telepath, she did not relay her thoughts and emotions willingly; the most had actually been since she had become human once more, but even still. Carine knew Edythe had been quiet about this for days, possibly even before her fever spike, and that's why she was flouting the pain scale questions, to make it seem like it was better so she could leave.
Carine knew Edythe hated feeling weak, and didn't want to be this dependent on others; though, of course, none of them minded. This type of constriction was something Edythe had never experienced as a vampire; the constant strength and agility was something she had gotten used to, and she had only barely accepted her human limitations when those had been taken from her too. It was a struggle for her just to allow the two of them to help her, let alone resolve to trust the nurses and other staff at the hospital. She didn't like showing weakness.
Carine glanced at Edythe's arms, seeing the black and purple and yellow splotches that discolored her skin; they had troubled Carine for a few days, though she knew there was little she could do. The constant fluids and medication being administered had resulted in Edythe's peripheral veins to be aggravated and punctured more than was optimal. And, when Edythe's blood pressure had dropped so suddenly, Dr. Vernetti had placed a femoral central line to give fluids and medication more quickly; as a precaution and for the purpose of providing self-medicated analgesics through a pump, the catheter remained on the outside of Edythe's right thigh, taped up her hip to the pump hooked to her bed. Though her list of medications was far smaller than it had been, she still received significant pain medication to keep her functioning, the same medication that the nurses had been trying to give Edythe before she had reacted.
Carine hadn't expected Edythe to have a breakdown like this, but it certainly was justified. For all that Edythe had had to endure over the past two months alone, it was far more than anyone should have to take. And Carine could tell part of it was from pain; even now, she could see the slight trembling of Edythe's body, not just from her sobs or frustration. Carine frowned; she knew that, despite her dislike of the femoral line, Edythe used the pump regularly to give herself relief from the pain, something that proved she was not fit to leave the hospital and go back to regular life.
But Carine knew Edythe was struggling, and being in the hospital was definitely not helping her state of mind; she knew that without Edythe having to point it out. She knew Edythe struggled to sleep, and her complaints about the hospital food were ever numerous; she could see Edythe wasn't comfortable here, and she could never really work at recovering fully until she felt she was getting better. Carine pursed her lips, and Earnest could see her mind was working, the gears turning in her head as she deliberated.
"She's still in pain," he murmured too quietly for Edythe to hear. "I don't want her home if that means she'll be without pain relief." Carine glanced up at him, then down at Edythe, whose gaze was fixed on the floor. The vampires could smell the flush of her skin, knowing that, despite her feelings, she felt ashamed to have to admit this weakness, another one on top of all the other more obvious ones. After another long moment, she stood and moved from the room, stepping into the hallway and up to the desk. Taking the free office phone on the counter, she dialed the extension for Dr. Vernetti's office.
Carine returned a few minutes later, settling back on the bed, leaning on one arm. Edythe still refused to meet her mother's gaze, still too distressed, especially after Carine had left without a word. She remained in Earnest's lap, her eyes dry now, but her head leaning against his shoulder. After a brief moment, Carine spoke.
"Dr. Vernetti will be discharging you tomorrow," she said simply. Edythe's head shot up in surprise, her wide eyes hopeful. Carine smiled in response, reaching out to brush Edythe's hair back from her cheek.
"We will still be keeping your central line in for the analgesics, and we will keep your medication going, but we can the equipment transferred to the house. You still have to do your physical therapy; there's no getting out of that. But…" Carine paused, "I will be taking a few weeks' leave to monitor you until you're strong enough."
Edythe's eyes widened, not in hope this time, but remorse and guilt. She did not ever think that Carine would be taking time off work for an extended period of time for this, and she tried to figure out a way to argue it.
"I didn't mean…I don't want you to…" she started, but couldn't see to find a way to say it. Carine stopped her before she could, anyway.
"Don't apologize," she told her, "Never be afraid to tell me how you feel, Edythe. If this is what you need, then my work can wait. You are my priority." Edythe didn't speak, but Carine could see the gratitude and remorse still there.
Edythe was reminded again how lucky she was to have Carine, and how unwaveringly good her mother was; though taking a few weeks leave may not seem like the most reverent act, Edythe knew what it meant for Carine to work at the hospital. In the century she had known her, she had never taken more than a day off, and it was only for necessary purposes like hunting. But Carine had just agreed to take an extended leave to act as her caretaker, just so she didn't have to stay at the hospital. Edythe was struck again at the revelation that her mother would move mountains—figuratively and literally—for her. She knew part of the arrangement was for Carine's own sanity as well as Dr. Vernetti's recommendation, where she could ensure Edythe was given the proper treatments and did the necessary therapy by being with her all the time. Edythe reached out with her left hand.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice cracking with emotion. Carine smiled, taking her fingers and pressing her lips to them.
"Of course, Edythe. Anything," she emphasized.
Just under thirty-six hours later, Edythe was in the shower in her own bathroom at the Cullen mansion, Carine besides her as she carefully ran a towel over the incision sites. Carine had been able to remove the stitches this morning, after both she and Dr. Vernetti agreed the skin had healed perfectly. Carine assured her it was okay to shower without bandages, just to avoid getting soap in that general area. Since Edythe wasn't able to lift her right arm, Carine helped her wash her hair. As she stepped out the shower area carefully, Carine's hand underneath her arm to steady her, and down onto the bed, she smiled peacefully.
"The difference a decent shower makes," Edythe murmured, her eyes closed, smile still in place, "I feel almost human again." Carine chuckled quietly as she helped her get dry and into fresh clothes, a set of soft pajama pants and sleeveless shirt. The feeling of being able to wear her own sleepwear and sit on her own bed, filled with pillows rather than an uncomfortable incline and plastic rails, nearly made her giddy. After Carine had gently pulled her hair up into a loose twist, Edythe allowed her to lift her to the head of the bed, laying gingerly on her left side. Carine had told her to sleep in any position that was comfortable for her, and she found no issue with laying on her still tender ribs. Carine gathered some pillows around her, allowing Edythe to elevate her right shoulder and take pressure off her back. Edythe reached down and grabbed a hold of her comforter, but Carine beat her to it, pulling it up over to under her shoulder.
"You know, you don't have to do everything for me," she said, but Carine just smiled.
"It's been a while since I've had to nurse someone," she commented, "And never to my own child. Let me do it without fussing." The last part came out as a tease, and she touched the tip of Edythe's nose playfully. Edythe rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the smile off her face. As she settled in, Carine lounged besides her, acting as an ice-pack as much as a barrier to keep Edythe from tossing in the night and disturbing her sleep.
"Do you want another dose of medication?" Her mother asked, indicating the pump on Edythe's nightstand, which she had hooked up just after Edythe had gotten out the shower. Edythe nodded ever so slightly, but added, "Not the full dose though."
Carine nodded and easily set the machine before settling back as Edythe cuddled closer to her, her eyes automatically drooping. The comparison to her bed at home and at the hospital was so ridiculous it was laughable; her hospital bed was small, uncomfortable, adorned with scratchy, unforgiving sheets and blankets, all permeated with an unfamiliar, aseptic hospital smell. In the fleece throw she was now wrapped in, she could smell Beau and her family's scents, all intermixed, all familiar, all reminding her she was home. She smiled again, and it didn't disappear even as she drifted off to sleep.
Carine stayed besides the sleeping girl, glad that she had found a comfortable position and had immediately been able to fall asleep. She could see Edythe had been right; the moment she had walked through the front door, her heart rate and demeanor seemed to calm. She had made the effort to move without help getting from the bathroom to the bed, though she was still weak and Carine stayed besides her the entire time, ready to support her if she needed it.
The simple act of being home had a starkly positive effect on Edythe, and Carine was glad she had listened. Though her coworkers were not thrilled that they would have to survive an indefinite period without her, they were more than understanding about her reasons. And, as much as she loved being at the hospital, she loved Edythe far more. She had no qualms about taking a leave of absence if it meant Edythe could move along the road to recovery; she ached to see her daughter as she was before the accident, and she knew she would get there, with time.
And she was more than happy to spend that interim with her.
A/N: You know, most of the Twilight books (L&D included) never seemed to have 'normal' stuff. Like I get it's a fantasy book but it seems that drama after drama just keeps happening, one right after another with no break in-between; we don't get to see much normalcy in terms of the 'mundane', which I feel is when the most genuine, little details come out of the characters. I guess that's why I liked to reread the chapters of L&D where Edythe and Beau are just having normal conversation at school, to show that there is a 'normal' for the vampires and Beau, even though we never get to see it. That's why I like these kind of chapters, though they seem a lot of fluff (sorry not sorry)
Edythe's reaction is something I have been thinking about adding for a while; to be a vampire and than beocming a human and then having what little control/strength you have ripped from you, especially for a (lovable) stubborn control-freak like Edythe, I don't find it outlandish for her to have some kind of reaction like that. The poor girl is stressed, and scared, and we all know we (and she) don't always react the best way when we have that combination of emotions.
The other thing I realized is I'm becoming less and less of a fan of the original canon; I don't know why, but Edythe and Beau's story just seems to make a lot more sense, they're not as one-dimensional in my opinions. Their interactions in L&D show them to have completely different side to them than Edward and Bella.
Maybe it's simply because Stephenie Meyer didn't think to add these details the first time around and they are supposed to handle over to the original canon, but ultimately Twilight was written and presented the way it was and we can't change that. Personally, I think the whole message that SM was going for—to drive Beau/Bella was a human in danger, rather than just a DOD—would have been a lot better if L&D had been written first. A lot of the stuff Beau went through would have been taken in a different light if it was precede by Bella's original experience; it would have shown that it is really a human-vampire thing, rather than just girl-guy thing.
I also love the idea of the female dynamic; I know the background in which SM wrote Twilight and I'm not saying it's bad, but I just love the idea of the dynamic between the L&D versus Twilight. It's not always typical that the mother is considered the leader, and is so selfless and forward like Carine. The characteristics of Carlisle just seem to fit Carine better, same with a lot of other characters. Not that I don't like the Twilight characters, but I've always had a particular draw to Carine as a whole, outside of that of Edythe and Beau. It just feels more concrete, more believable, much more possible for this to be an actual person.
Also, Edythe has a lot more of personality to her than Edward, and Beau doesn't have that chip on his shoulder. They just seem to have more cohesion and actually get along as friends/best friends as well as pre-determined mates, which for me makes them far more real.
Anyway, sorry for my very long internal monologue!
I don't know how practical/realistic the home-care situation would be (never experienced it myself), but I feel like the Cullens, Carine in particularly, can pull a lot of impossible strings and this is hardly the most difficult thing to arrange.
Also, I have a CRV (not blue though) and love it, and I feel Beau would be a Honda kind of guy, so I went with it! I hope you guys enjoyed this, and I will see you in the next one! If anyone would like to see anything in particular, please let me know and I'll do my best to include it, but I don't want us to be stuck in the high school senior semester forever, so if I don't have material, I will be moving along! Let me know, and thank you for taking the time to read! :)