Chapter 46: Discovering the Rainbow
"What is going on?" Edythe asked as she entered the locker room; a couple of her classmates looked up at her entrance, then shrugged to her question.
"No idea; we only know as much as what was said in the email," Cassie said, her hazel eyes looking equally bemused. "A couple people tried to dig, but admin's lips are sealed. It must be bad."
"Shit," Zoja muttered, "What the hell happened for them to cancel clinic to meet all of us?"
Edythe shrugged as she pulled her shirt over her head, quickly changing into her school scrubs. The entire class—in the middle of the final clinical rotations at hospitals around Phoenix—had been sent a vague and sudden email the night before, demanding everyone show the following morning, dressed and groomed, and to meet in the main atrium of the professional building.
Edythe had been confused, seemingly as much as her classmates, who were all metaphorically drowning in case reports and medical records, working to keep up with the amount of assessments they needed to have done in the next two weeks before their commencement. Everything had to be done, or else the past four years of work were for nothing; even if they had passed their license exam—as Edythe and nearly the entire class had—multiple months ago, it meant nothing if the three letters D.V.M. were not bestowed at the end of their names.
So calling such an abrupt halt to the flow that every student was used to—and taking time away that could have been dedicated to catching up on the never-ending flow of cases—left a slightly resentful air about the graduating class as they all filed in the large open room. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows that speckled the front wall showed the cloud-covered sky, a rarity in the desert that definitely was not helping with the stress and foreboding that was pressing down on the soon-to-be veterinarians. Edythe glanced around, seeing all the familiar faces, nodding and cocking an eyebrow at her more closer colleagues in question. Simon Peters, Alexandra Millard, and Majken Abrams all gave her the same look, shrugging to show they knew no more than she did.
The hundred or so students stood together in a huddled group just beyond the mouths of the lockers rooms, facing where their administration stood just in front of the main entrance, looking back at them all. Silence fell instantly as the dean moved to speak.
Edythe listened with as much rapt attention as everyone else, curious and a little concerned about the purpose for the gathering. But the dean showed no outward emotion on her face and, as she spoke of the integrity of the program, and the diligence with which each student had been chosen, there was a slightly rustling of unease. The students were sure something had happened with one or more of the students, and the entire class was going to receive the consequences. They waited with bated breath, their nerves as tense as wires as the dean continued.
"This diligence," the dean said, "is why we have removed you from your clinics this morning. Each of you have demonstrated equal capability to perform your duties, both as a student of this school and as a clinician to your patients and clients. You have all worked day and night to fulfill that duty, with everything in your being. Thus, we have decided that such a way is not how we wish for you to end your careers as veterinary students, worn out and burnt out before you can even cross the stage."
Edythe made a face, not sure where the dean was going with this.
"So," the woman continued, a knowing smile coming over her features, "we have decided that you should be granted a slight reprieve. Clinics will not be expecting you through the end of the week, with your final cases having been done yesterday. We still expect your case reports done by Monday, but no more shall be added to your plate."
There was a louder murmuring, this time excited and relieved. The dean permitted it for a moment.
"However, there is one responsibility that we ask of you," she said after it had passed, "We are well aware most, if not all, of you would not have gotten where you are without a support network. Be it your family, friends, coworkers, employers, they helped shape the people you were when you arrived at this school."
Automatically, Edythe's thoughts flitted to a mental image of her family, imagining their faces, their voices. Her heart ached dully; it had been nearly a year since seeing them, the most recent of which being her mother, Carine, for the worst possible reason. She had spent most of that visit in a hospital bed, or at home, curled up in pain—both physical and emotional—either under the covers or in Carine's or Beau's arms. It was one of the darkest times of her life, and hardly something she would have called quality time. She wanted nothing more than see them all again; she had been away for so long, and had started counting down the days to commencement, to when she could return home.
"I know many of you would attribute that success to them," the dean said, "So, we ask you to do your best for the days you have been granted to show that gratitude and pay it forward."
A hundred confused expressions greeted that statement, but the dean paid it no mind, her eyes flickering up to the sudden movement of feet on the stairs on the floor above. The atrium went beyond the third level, so the stairs between the second and ground floor were exposed and easily visible with a turn of the head from the students. And as they did so curiously, their eyes laid on the small mass of people moving down the steps, familiar faces for each individual student.
There was an uproar of surprised and joyful cries, and a moment later, the students had broken from their huddle, making toward their loved ones. Edythe dodged a half dozen or so classmates, her eyes locked on the group of people she had noticed immediately, for they had just been pictured in her mind. She took the stairs two at a time, and they moved to meet her halfway.
Moments later, she was incased in Eleanor and Archie's freezing embraces as they locked their arms around her. She buried her face in their shoulders, holding onto them as tightly as she could. The rest of her family moved to join them, eventually sequestering themselves to a more private area of the atrium, slightly away from the rest of the humans.
As Edythe stepped away from Earnest's embrace, she finally met her husband's gaze.
"You knew," she accused with narrowed eyes and he nodded, halfway between laughter and shame.
"The school gave me the initial news, which I had to relay to the rest of the family. Though, of course, they already knew by the time I called," he defended himself with his hands raised.
"Of course," Edythe said ryely before returning her attention to her mother, who had her arms around her waist. She suddenly remembered what had left her mind, consumed in the moment of shock and happiness at being reunited with her family two weeks earlier than she expected. Her eyes flickered to Archie, whose knowing smile was in place, knowing what she was going to ask.
"Better tell them now, Edy," he recommended, "They're going find out very soon regardless."
The rest of the Cullens looked confused between Archie and Edythe, though Beau knew what his brother-in-law was talking about. He met his wife's gaze for a moment, communicating with her silently.
"Tell us what?" Royal asked, looking between his two siblings scrupulously.
"Whatever it is that Archie's been planning and keeping hushed up," Jessamine grumbled severely. Obviously, she had noticed the change in her husband, but Archie would not speak of it, even to her.
"Not a plan, and not mine to reveal," he chanted to her, knocking his hip against hers as he snaked an arm around her waist. She rolled her eyes, having heard the excuse before and hating it just as equally as she had then. All eyes returned to Edythe, who had shifted back half a step in Carine's embrace.
"Umm…" Edythe began with a little halfhearted chagrined smile with all their gazes on her.
"Well, we were going to tell everyone once we were home, but since that has obviously gone out the window…I'm pregnant," she finally admitted. Their expressions changed immediately. Archie seemed to sigh in relief, the hidden news finally revealed and the secret off his shoulders. The chorus of congratulations brought another smile to Edythe's face, feeling as her mother's arms tightened around her, bringing her closer for a hug. Carine's eyes were shining as her daughter looked up to meet her gaze.
"We were going to tell you sooner, but we kind of wanted it to be a surprise," she explained, "As it was to us." She added with a small laugh.
"Oh, Edythe," Carine murmured, her touch moving to Edythe's face, cradling her daughter in her hands. Edythe pressed into the familiar gesture and closed her eyes, feeling more at peace than she had in years, since she had left New York.
"How far along are you?" Carine asked now, voicing the question that undoubtedly came to everyone's minds first.
"Ten weeks," Edythe responded, "My due date is January 10th." Carine nodded in affirmation, her expression still tender.
"We didn't want to spread it around much, until at least after another month or so," she admitted, and saw her mother's golden eyes soften. It was a reminder, painful for both of them, of the experience in Edythe's first pregnancy—silent and incomplete. But now, Carine deliberately focused her hearing; the room was loud, filled with hundreds of human heartbeats that all bounced off the echoing walls and marble flooring. But after a moment, she heard what she knew she would, and she gasped quietly. The heartbeat was quiet but steady and able to be picked out easily, if one was listening for it.
"The heartbeat sounds strong," she told Edythe, who had given her a questioning look. Now Edythe's eyes danced, flashing vibrantly in the light; it was an expression as polar opposite of what Carine had seen in her face the last time she had been in Arizona as she could recall. And it made her own heart swell with emotion.
The rest of the family, who had been torn between congratulating Beau and grilling Archie for the indignity of keeping such vital information from them, now focused on what Carine had said and then after a moment, their own expressions changed as they heard the rapid flutter of the tiny organ coming from Edythe, separate from her own heart beat, but somehow complimenting it just the same.
"Holy hell, how did we miss that?" Eleanor asked.
"You wouldn't have for much longer, hence why I told Edythe to spill the beans to avoid ruining the surprise," Archie said. Edythe giggled at his teasing tone before deftly stepping away from her mother as Carine released her, moving to allow Beau to tuck her into his side.
"Forgive me?" he asked quietly.
"Not yet," she said, though she pressed into him firmly. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed his nose to her temple affectionately.
"Well," Archie said, rubbing his hands together a moment, and the two humans looked up. "We have four days to take up of your time before we have to give you back to the school for a week. What do you want to do?" Edythe grinned.
"Anything," she said.
It was the most carefree four days Edythe had had in months. She was less than a week from graduating, only days away from moving home from the desert permanently, and she had her and Beau's baby growing inside her.
Her family was able to enjoy what there was to Phoenix under the abnormally covered sky. Visiting the desert botanical gardens and the zoo, hiking Camelback mountain—which was significantly easy for Edythe and Beau, considering the vampires would simply lift them up and over obstacles—taking the steamboat on Canyon Lake, and even window shopping on Mill Avenue filled their time. They even ventured to visit the residential ghost town, which Beau blatantly refused to partake in; the Cullen siblings went instead, entertaining themselves with terrifying the tourists at night, unbeknownst to their parents.
Most of these things Edythe had never experienced, too occupied with school to pay much attention; and, considering most of the attractions were outdoors in the—more often than not—sweating sun and heat, she was disinclined to go regardless. But the weather removed much of that from the equation, though she still had a lot to finish in her final week, so she could not spend the entire ten days by their side, as much as she wanted to.
The following morning after their arrival, her siblings decided to peruse the area for game; though they didn't need to hunt, they were interested in the wildlife that dwelled in an area so unlike what they were used to. This also left the perfect opportunity for Edythe and Beau to have a peaceful, private morning with Carine and Earnest, where the parental figures could get all the details that Archie later shared with the others.
They chose the Japanese Friendship Garden, a place so serene and so unlike the red rock desert they were surrounded by, that it brought a sense of an umbrella over them, as if they were cocooned in a private bubble. They two couples took a quiet stroll on the path for a time, content in their companionable silence. They finally settled in the small pavilion overlooking the gigantic koi pond.
Carine and Earnest were anxious to speak to the couple, wanting the smaller details that had not been conveyed yet. Edythe informed them that Amanda had offered her a position at Tompkins Veterinary Center, an offer which she had accepted. The veterinarian knew that Edythe was pregnant and had already planned for relief coverage for her to begin a few days before Christmas.
"Archie already told us you would allow us to move back," Edythe laughed.
"Of course," Earnest said immediately, "We don't want you far; it'll be far less stressful for you."
Edythe smiled, knowing her parents would say no different, but still reveling in their happiness, which was just a fraction of hers. She squeezed Beau's hand, which was wrapped around her back and placed gently at her lower abdomen. He had been doing it almost unconsciously since they had discovered the pregnancy; Edythe adored it, feeling him hold both her and their unborn child in his embrace.
"We were thinking the spare room down the hall from our room would be best for the nursery," Edythe continued then turned to Beau abruptly with a small gasp, "The rocking chair."
Beau gazed at her for a moment before understanding came to his features, catching up with her train of thought.
"I'm sure I can have Charlie ship it to the house. He'd love that." Edythe nodded to herself before returning to her parents again.
"It'll be easier for us to get to; maybe we can have a refrigerator and microwave installed up there."
"It would definitely be best, for the sleepless nights when we would both be danger of falling down the stairs at three o'clock in the morning," Beau agreed.
"We can help with that," Earnest offered, then hesitated, "At least, if you would like our help."
"Oh, I don't think we would survive without it," Edythe assured him, then added, "We may be the parents, but he or she is still a Cullen baby. We wouldn't take that from you." The vampires' expressions softened at their words, and Carine reached across the short space between them to brush the loose piece of hair that was fluttering through the slight breeze, tucking it back behind Edythe's ear. Her fingers lingered there.
"You are too good to us, Edythe," she murmured, her golden eyes meeting her daughter's. "To allow us all to be a part of this is more than I think any of us can express into words."
"Hardly," Edythe replied, "But I was the former telepath; I know you all well. I was lucky enough to get this second chance, and I am going to share it however I can. It's not the same, or nearly enough for all you have given me—my second life, and by extension, Beau and my humanity—but it is all I can give."
"Oh, sweetheart," her mother breathed, and Edythe could see reflection behind the honey eyes, the only physical manifestation of vampiric tears. "You have given us as much as you think we have given you."
Edythe smiled, but did not argue it further; instead, she took Carine's hand, pulling on it and leaning into Beau's arm. The vampire let her press her fingers gently to Edythe's abdomen, where she could clearly feel the firm pressure of what would eventually develop into a belly bump.
"I'm ashamed to admit," Edythe said with half a giggle, "I didn't notice I was getting bigger until El pointed it out." Carine chuckled, running her hand tenderly over the spot. It was true; Edythe had been so overwhelmed with case reports and finalizing the move and her education that she had not noticed as her lower belly had started to distend. Though not noticeable in anything less than a close-fitting tank top, it was there, just slightly. Last night, Edythe had stripped her scrub top off and Eleanor had pointed it out immediately, and now Edythe could barely keep her eyes away from the sight.
It was still so strange to her. She shouldn't be surprised; everything physiological since she had been human had been completely correct and normal, save for the blood transfusion scare and her back injury. She had been on birth control since her miscarriage; though they had not planned on Edythe becoming pregnant so quickly—convinced it would take more time and effort after the emotional and physical damage—Edythe had chosen to start taking prenatal vitamins preemptively after they had discussed again, months before. Now, she was glad she had.
Logically, Edythe knew it would make sense for them to be able to conceive once she was no longer on birth control, and everything else that was remotely human had applied in the past six years. But this was different; it seemed the ultimate test of her humanity, especially after what had happened the first time.
But it had worked, just as it could with almost any human couple.
But there was still that string of doubt in her head, brought on by memories of a hospital bed, crying infants, and grief of a degree she could not handle. Her body shuttered unconsciously. Both Carine and Beau guessed where her thoughts had led. And they all made to reassure her.
"Remember what I told you," her mother said gently. Edythe took a steadying breath before answering.
"What happened last July does not dictate what is happening now," she recited.
"Yes," Carine confirmed, "You've passed the hardest part. The likelihood of miscarriage is minimal at this stage."
"It was last time as well," Edythe muttered before she could contain it. But Carine's expression didn't change; only Beau's reactive flexing of his arms around her clued her in that it was audible.
"This is not the same," her mother said firmly, "We are here now; you're coming home in a few days. There will be no need to worry, no more stress. You both will be fine. We will make sure of that."
It was a comforting notion, especially after she had heard it so often, not just from Beau but from the rest of the family immediately. Even Archie, so assured in his visions, took her aside and described to her in as much detail as he could what he saw: Edythe herself surrounded by autumn foliage, her belly swollen with the life within her, healthy and glowing.
Now, Edythe pressed her hand against her skin; it felt no different than since she had healed from her car accident injuries. As she pressed the pads of her fingers more firmly to her abdomen, she imagined her own pulse pumping underneath her skin as paralleling the thrum of the tiny heartbeat within her womb.
Her parents and husband noted as she seemed to relax. Carine flipped her hand up and took Edythe's, squeezing gently.
"They're called rainbow babies," she murmured, "for they are what comes at the end of a storm."
A/N: Hello there! It's been a minute, hasn't it? I will admit there was a multitude of reasoning this took so long. Part of it was because I was going through my own medical issues and have since had surgery; I'm doing well though and finally had the time and energy to dedicate to this chapter as it deserved to be.
I have been torn on how this story should do; I still have the plot that I want, but I needed to decide what was important, continuing to the main plot, or to allow myself to dabble in details and side quests. I have decided on the former, as this story is/will be long enough as without that additional fluff-n'-stuff that maybe not everyone was interested in. However, my appeal to that is I will be posting an Outtakes story with all the little (or big) things I'm cutting out of this story so we can get to 'meat' of it. I have mentioned this before, but it finalized and will be a compiling of outtakes of all different points in the story.
Anyway, yay! Edythe is pregnant; I know it may seem very 'rushed' considering what happened in the last chapter, but recall there are times gaps (hence previous paragraph on outtake story) with more than a year passing in that gap. School is over, life is moving on, to one of the main chapters that Beau and Edythe have wanted since they discovered her human state: children. However, this will not just be a fluffy story about first pregnancy and childrearing (though there will be a lot of it, as indicated by the fluffy chapter above you).
I like the fluff, do not get me wrong, but I know this overall story has the overarching theme: what would happen if Edythe and Beau led a normal life, barring any other changes? That is the avenue we will explore. It will have cute, it will have sweet, but it will have dark, it will have upsetting. If that interests you, I appreciate you waiting out a couple of weeks for the next chapter to be released :)
Maybe you would be so kind to write a review or PM in the meantime, let me know what you think; reviews are my favorite part, to hear what others think of my thoughts splurged onto (digital) paper.
Happy 2022, and I will see you guys soon (I promise)
Postscript: For my rationale why Carine wouldn't hear the heartbeat immediately: the room was large, voluminous, and filled with hundreds of adult heart beats. A fetal heart starts beating around 5 weeks, but may not be heard routinely on a Doppler until closer to 12 weeks. I assume that, though vampire hearing is good, it may be about equivalent, maybe slightly more than an ultrasound Dopplers. A comparison was Midnight Sun and dropping off the truck after the blood-typing incident; through the pounding storm, Edward could not discern if Bella was inside, only mentioning the lack of thoughts, not lack of heart beat. So it could be postulated that heart beats and other such noises vampires are privy can be drowned out by other, louder things. But that's my working theory. Also, the announcement is adorable, if I do say so myself ;)