7
BPOV
I was losing control. Every day that passed with Gabriel Varner still on the loose, biding his time until he found his way to me again, had me on edge. And, if I were honest with myself, I was being a bitch.
Three weeks had passed since Tyler hid from the bad man, and somehow, life went on. Carlisle fell in love with his job, Alice and I registered for our classes and the semester would start next week, Emmett and Rose settled into their apartment and got registered for their classes at City College. Though I wanted them both to be at Berkeley with me, Alice, and Esme, I was just thrilled they were finally in San Francisco. They were my family, a part of me that I needed close.
"You know," Carlisle said, causing me to look over my shoulder at him. He was leaning against the doorway to the hallway, watching as I sat curled up in the corner of our new couch—the couch we needed because Gabriel Varner had destroyed everything we owned. "I don't much like waking up and not having you in our bed with me."
"Sorry," I murmured, turning back to the book leaning against my knees. "I got tired of just lying there, so I thought I'd read for a while."
Carlisle hummed, but didn't say anything else as he sat next to me, pulling my legs over his lap. He didn't have to; I hadn't been able to sleep in weeks. Every sound had me on edge, wondering if Gabriel Varner had once again found us. I found myself check on the boys several times a night, double and triple checking that all the doors and windows were locked. I was paranoid and jittery, and driving everyone crazy, but I was scared.
The detectives had searched every inch of security tape but hadn't been able to find Gabriel Varner had been anywhere near the administration building, but I knew he was. Tyler wouldn't have hidden away inside that building of he hadn't been scared. The problem was without proof, there was nothing more we could do. I felt frustrated and overwhelmed, which did nothing for my paranoia.
"I'm worried about you," he said after several minutes. "Feels like you're pulling away."
"I'm not," I argued, though even I didn't believe the words I spoke so hastily. "At least, I'm not trying to. I don't know, Carlisle, I feel so . . ."
"I know, and I'm scared, too," he murmured, sliding his hand up to my knee, over my thigh. "Maybe we shouldn't go today."
I sighed. "You can't keep putting this off, lover. There won't be many more chances."
Carlisle pressed his lips together, and nodded.
"Don't you wish you'd had the chance to say goodbye to your mom?" I asked.
His shoulders tensed as he turned his attention to me, and for a moment, I wondered if I'd gone too far. But then he frowned. "More than anything, but my mother didn't abandon me when like got hard, Isabella. Tanya . . . I don't know how to look at her and not be angry, how to expect the boys to look at her and understand that the woman who left them suddenly wants to talk with them. How do I do that?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I certainly don't have the answers, Carlisle."
"You're supposed to," he grumbled, letting his head fall back onto the couch.
I laughed. "Really? I'm barely old enough to even think for myself, but I'm supposed to know how to handle your ex-wife?"
"When you put it like that," he groused.
I laughed as the sound of the boys' bedroom door opened and, looking over my shoulder again, I saw the boys stumble down the hallway, stopping and smiling when they saw their father and I sitting on the couch. Neither Carlisle nor I had told them about the visit to see Tanya. How do you explain to children that the mother who had abandoned them years earlier suddenly wanted to see them again. Oh, and yeah, she's dying. The last thing I wanted was for the boys to hurt again because of their birth-mother.
"What's for breakfast?" Tyler asked, climbing onto my lap. I laughed quietly; the boy was always hungry.
"Hmm, I don't know," I said, leaning my head against the side of his head. "What do you want? We can have waffles? Or pancakes? Eggs and bacon?"
"Bacon!" Michael and Tyler immediately yelled.
"Oy, not so loud," Carlisle grumbled. "What if I don't want bacon?"
"We can vote," Michael suggested. "If you want bacon, raise your hand."
His and Tyler's hands thrust into the air and both of them looked at me, clearly expecting me to agree with him. Smiling sheepishly at my husband, I raised my hand.
He gasped. "Isabella!"
"Sorry, but it sounds good," I snickered. "What did you want, anyway?"
Carlisle shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really care. Just wanted a vote."
"You're so weird, Dad," Michael scoffed, shaking his head.
"I know, son; I know," he said with a sigh.
—TW—
A few hours later, Carlisle, the boys, and I walked through the front doors of Hillcrest Hospice. While Carlisle checked in at the front desk, I tried my hardest to distract the boys by leading them over to a large fish tank that was full of hundreds of multicolored fish. I wasn't sure how they were going to handle the news of their mother's illness and impending death, and I was starting to question whether I was making the right choice by encouraging Carlisle to allow his ex to see them.
"She said the director will be with us in a few minutes," Carlisle murmured just loud enough for me to hear him.
I nodded, and looked up at him. But before I could tell him that we should leave, an older woman with short-cropped gray hair and small, beady blue eyes came bustling out of a set of double doors and turned her attention to Carlisle.
"Dr. Cullen?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Carlisle nodded. "You are?"
"Estelle Sinclair. Ms. Cullen has asked to see your wife first," the woman explained, causing Carlisle to look at me.
"Huh?" I asked. "Me?"
The woman nodded.
"Um," I turned to Carlisle, "is that okay with you?"
"Not up to me," he said, but there was a tenor to his voice that had me in edge.
Looking back at Estelle, I said, "Okay."
Estelle didn't say anything as she turned and led me through the set of double doors and down a long, dark hallway. She paused outside a door on the left hand side of the hall, and slowly opened the door. The room was dimly lit, but I could see a woman perched up in the bed. She was pale and thin. She had dark circles under her gaunt eyes and her lips were dry and cracked. On her head, she had on a bright pink scarf.
"Please, come in," the woman croaked, and I slowly walked into the room. Estelle shut the door behind me, leaving the two of us alone. "You've grown up, Isabella."
"Three years will do that," I said.
She frowned. "I'm surprised you agreed to see me first. Well, actually, I'm surprised Carlisle allowed you to see me first."
"Me, too," I admitted, taking a couple steps toward her. "Why'd you want to see me? I'm not . . . I mean, you don't . . . you don't know me."
"You're right I don't. But you're a part of my sons' lives, and Carlisle loves you. I know you think I'm a horrible person," Tanya murmured, softly. "Leaving my husband and children like I did."
"It's not my place to judge you," I lied, because I had judged her. Time after time I'd accused her of being worthless, of hurting Carlisle and the boys because she was selfish.
"But you still did, didn't you?" she asked. "I would have. Hell, I did. I never thought I'd be one of those moms who couldn't do it, you know? When Michael was born, I wanted to be the best mom, but it was so hard. He cried all the time, and Carlisle was working fifteen hour days. When he got home, all I wanted was five minutes to myself, but he had to study for his boards. I became angry, so very angry. We fought all the time, and I blamed him. And it wasn't fair; I know that he was working to give us a better life, but I hated being tied down by Michael. And then I got pregnant with Tyler." Tanya paused and placed her hand over her heart. "I didn't want another baby, and I considered my options, but in the end, I just couldn't go through with it. And when he was born, I found myself stuck with a two year old and a newborn every day.
"There were days when I didn't even have the energy to shower. I never wore make-up, I felt trapped. And I hated myself for feeling like that because I loved my children, I just didn't want to be there anymore. And then I felt the lump. I knew; even then I knew, but I tried to tell myself that it was nothing. I felt like it was my get out of jail card. I knew that Carlisle would insist on running every tests to find out if it was cancer. After his mother's passing, he wouldn't want to do nothing. And I wasn't ready to admit that I had cancer."
"So you left," I murmured.
Tanya nodded. "I lied about needing to find myself, needing space. Well, maybe that wasn't a lie. I didn't want to spend what little part of my life I had left living like that anymore. So I left. Knowing that Carlisle would never give me any money, I went to his father. Peter was only too happy to pay me to stay away from his son and the boys. He never liked me."
"Can you blame him?" I asked. "You did extort money from him."
"I did," she admitted, pushing herself up in her bed. "I left California and just tried to live my life. I pretended that my heart wasn't breaking. Forced myself not to call the boys every day. I thought they'd be better off without me, without such a horrible mother. But every night, I cried for them."
Tanya dragged her hands over her face, trying to wipe away the tears that had sprinkled down her cheeks. "Eighteen months ago, I began having trouble catching my breath. Simply walking across the street had me gasping for air, and I knew I couldn't put it off going to the doctor any longer. He found a second lump in my breast, and third in my other breast. He ran some tests, and found that the cancer had already spread to my lungs. I had a double mastectomy and began chemotherapy and radiation, but the cancer continued to spread. So six months ago I stopped treatments."
"Knowing that you're going to die?" I asked.
She nodded. "I'm tired, Isabella. I wanted to live. I told myself that if I pulled through that I'd do everything I could to be a mom to Michael and Tyler, that I'd be a good mom this time. But I'm not supposed to be their mother. You are."
"Me?" I gasped.
And again, she nodded. "A couple months ago, I went back to Forks. I wanted to see the boys one last time. But I couldn't get the courage to get out of the car. I sat outside of the house for hours. And then you and the boys came out. They were laughing at something you said, and Tyler jumped in your arms. I could hear him laughing through the window," she cried. "And then Carlisle came running out of the house and he wrapped all three of you in his arms, and I knew. I just knew."
"Knew what?" I asked.
"I knew they'd forgotten about me. Carlisle was so happy and carefree; he was never like that with me. He was also so focused on school and then his career. But with you, he . . ." Tanya paused and smiled. "He's different with you, and I want that for him, because Carlisle's a good man."
"He is," I agreed.
Tanya placed her hands on the side of her bed, and tried to push herself up, but she was too weak to move. "I know I don't deserve to ask anything of you, Isabella, but I'm going to, anyway. I'm going to die, and when I'm gone, the boys are going to forget me. I'm just going to be the woman who left, and I don't expect anything different because I made my choices. But I need you to promise that you're not going to leave them, that you'll never make my mistakes, because those boys, Carlisle included, they need you so much."
"I need them more," I whimpered.
"That might be true Promise me? Please?" she begged.
With tears flooding my eyes, I nodded. "I promise."
The look of relief on her face was breathtaking. "Thank you."
"Are you ready to see them?" I asked. "The boys, I mean."
"More than ever," she wept.
Unsure of what else to say, I turned and walked out into the hallway, surprised to find Estelle, Carlisle, and the boys waiting. I caught Carlisle's eyes before I held the door open and gestured for him to lead the boys in. I could tell a large part of him, the part that hated Tanya for three years of single parenthood, detested the idea of the boys anywhere near her, but he would give the boys the chance to say goodbye.
As I closed the door behind us, Tyler turned and wrapped himself around my leg, and Michael had moved so that he was partially hidden behind me. Carlisle cleared his throat and slowly walked around to the other side of Tanya's bed, placing one hand on his hip and the other on the top of her bed.
"Hey," he murmured.
"Thank you for bringing them," Tanya whispered, looking back at the boys. "They've gotten so big."
"Three years is a long time," Carlisle quipped, and I wanted to hush him, but he had a right to be angry. She'd not only hurt him, but she'd hurt the boys and that was something he'd never forgive.
"I know," Tanya murmured. "But thank you."
Carlisle nodded and looked over at me and then to the boys. "Michael, Ty, come here." Slowly, almost to the point of being overly dramatic, the boys walked to their father, sliding their hands into his. "Boys, this is Tanya, your . . ."
"Just Tanya," she whispered, before looking back down at the boys. "Hi."
"Hi," Michael mumbled, while Tyler didn't say anything.
"Look at all those freckles!"
"My mom calls them Angel's Kisses," Michael said, shifting his eyes to me. "Don't you?"
I nodded.
"She's right. I guess that means that angel's love you," Tanya said, her voice breaking at the end. "Do you still like to draw?"
Michael nodded. "My dad's teaching me how to paint."
"That's great." Tanya shifted her eyes down to Tyler, who had curled his tiny body around his father. "Hello, sweetheart."
"Hi," Tyler barely whispered. "Why don't you have any hair?"
"Ty," Carlisle and I both muttered.
But Tanya waved us off. "I got really sick, and the medicine cause my hair to fall out."
"Are you better?" Tyler asked.
"Not yet," she said. "But I will be soon. I hope."
Slowly, Michael and Tyler became more comfortable with Tanya, and they settled into a conversation about dinosaurs, superheroes, and baseballs, and I wondered how the woman who laughed and teased the boys she gave birth to, could have ever left them behind.
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