Edward drove while I watched the familiar streets of Phoenix through the passenger window. He effortlessly followed the route to the neighbourhood where Renee and Phil had moved years ago, after returning from Florida. He slowed the car when I pointed out the elementary school I had attended, staring in fascination at the mundane brick building.

We pulled in behind Phil's Volkswagen, gathered our gifts and souvenirs, and headed for the front door. Phil answered a moment later, giving me a hug and gripping Edward's hand. "So glad you're here," he told us, leading us inside. "Renee's been looking forward to seeing you guys." He took us into the living room.

My mother was on the sofa, an array of pill bottles and medical paraphernalia on the table beside her. I'd prepared myself for changes, but was still a little shocked at the sight of her. She was older, to begin with. Mom had always looked young for her age, but now she was almost fifty and it was catching up with her. Beyond that, she was thinner, pale, and gave the impression she was about to slump over and fall to her side out of sheer inertia. She seemed to have the same chin-length brown hair she'd had before I moved to Forks, but I recognized it was a wig, worn to conceal the fact that she was completely bald.

Her eyes lit up as I came in. "Bella!" Suddenly she looked a lot more like the Renee I remembered.

"Hi, Mom." I went to her and hugged her carefully, even more carefully than usual. She looked so frail.

"Oh, it's been such a long time! I can't believe you're here!" She beamed at me, then turned to Edward. "Edward, so good to see you again." Edward bent to hug her as well.

She smiled and patted the sofa beside her, and I sat down, and Edward took the place beside me. Phil offered us refreshments, which we declined, then perched on a chair nearby, his eyes almost always on Mom.

"Do you know, it's been years since we were actually together in person? You look so much more mature." She studied me a moment. "But at the same time, you look just the same as last time I saw you." Even terminally ill, Renee was as perceptive as ever.

"I know, Mom. It's hard to believe it's been so long."

"Are you okay? How was the trip back from Africa?"

We went through our carefully prepared accounts of the journey home, our visit with Charlie, and our flight from Seattle. This was followed up with offerings of gifts from Djibouti, which fascinated my mom. She tried on the handmade jewelry we'd chosen for her, admired the small carvings we'd brought as a gift for both of them. Over an hour passed this way, before I finally brought up the subject of Renee's condition.

"Oh, such a mess!" She waved her hand in the same gesture she used when complaining about local politics. "It's been one thing after another. Tests, chemo, radiation. Then more tests. And always bad news! And now they want me in the hospital." She seemed to regard the thing as one more annoying muddle she'd somehow stumbled into and couldn't seem to get straightened out. She'd always been a little bewildered by life's complications, and this was no exception. The one difference was that this muddle wasn't going to work itself out.

I caught Phil's eye. "Her oncologist has been suggesting the hospital for a while now. It's getting to be a little bit of an issue, taking care of things here at home. We've got a nurse for while I'm at work, but..." He shrugged. I could fill in the blanks to some extent. Phil was taking care of her as well as possible, but he had to sleep sometime, and probably the care was getting more complicated as time went on.

"I've been putting that off, of course," Mom added. "I really don't like hospitals. I'm trying to stay home as long as possible, although I suppose the doctor has a point." She paused, getting slightly breathless as she seemed to after any statement of more than a few words.

Although it wasn't late, she seemed to become intensely tired soon after that. Phil reminded her to take her evening medication, and she swallowed an array of pills before apologetically saying goodnight. "We'll talk more tomorrow," she promised, her voice slurring with fatigue.

"Back in a few minutes," Phil told us, and helped her to her bedroom. I could her the sounds of Renee being put to bed, the murmur of voices as Phil took care of various routines to ensure her comfort for the night.

I felt Edward take my hand, and I turned to him. "She seems so weak," I said. "I mean, I knew she would be, but..."

"I know. It must be a shock."

"That, and how much older she looks. So does Phil, for that matter. It's easy to forget that time's been passing differently for them." I looked at my century-old husband, still beautiful and seventeen in spite of his carefully controlled hair.

Phil returned a short time later, sitting down with a weary smile. "She'll sleep a few hours."

"You must not be getting much sleep yourself," I observed.

"Oh, enough. I have to get up a few times during the night."

I glanced at Edward. "Phil, I hope you'll let me help out now that we're here. You said a nurse comes in during the day?"

He nodded. "From nine to five. She leaves when I get home from work."

"Okay. If you can show me what to do, I can take the night shift so you can get some rest."

"Bella, that's a lot to ask."

"It's part of why I came, Phil. You take care of the afternoons, let Edward and me take the nights. We can go back to the hotel and sleep in the morning." Before dawn, if we can arrange it.

"Well...I have to say, that would be a big help. For Renee as well as me. It would let her stay at home a little longer."

"Consider it done, then."

He spent some time going over what needed to be done for my mom at night. I became aware of how much of a burden all this had been for Phil - not that he gave any indication he regarded it as a burden. We talked a little longer, getting some of the details of Renee's illness which she hadn't gone into. Finally we went on to other subjects, Phil relaxing and even laughing a little as we talked about his old baseball team and joked randomly.

We stayed the night, ostensibly to watch Phil and become more familiar with Renee's care routine. When Mom woke up for the fifth time, close to dawn, we said our goodbyes. "We're both a little jet lagged, so I think we'll sleep most of today and come back in the evening, if that's okay."

"Of course! Get lots of rest," Mom told us. "Phil said you're probably going to stay the night."

"That's the plan."

"Slumber party," she murmured, smiling as she drifted back to sleep. Phil tucked her in like a child and saw us to the door.

"See you guys tonight," he said. "And thanks for the offer."

We drove back to the hotel, reaching it before the sun began to appear. Day One had gone as planned, our presence and nocturnal schedule established. We went back to our room where we stood in each other's arms, talking things over. At 8:00 Nessie and Jacob stopped at the room on their way to breakfast, and we filled them in. "Wait a day or two before going to visit," I suggested.

Over the next few weeks, we fell into a routine. Arrive at the house just after sunset, visit awhile with Phil and Renee, then help get Renee to bed. Phil would go to sleep while we would stay on duty, giving Renee her pain medication, helping her to the bathroom, assisting her with even simple things like position changes. She sometimes needed to be propped up in bed so she could breathe properly. She would wake up or need help multiple times every night, and I felt for Phil. He must have been getting exhausted, and delaying hospitalization mostly because Renee didn't want it. While my mother slept, Edward and I would talk, or read, or just sit and hold each other. When Renee woke up close to dawn, as she always did, Phil would take over and we'd leave for the day. We'd manage to get back to the hotel by sunrise every morning, although it was occasionally a close call. We'd sometimes pull into the hotel parking garage just ahead of the first beams of sunlight in the east. Sunrise came early in Arizona at this time of year.

Jacob and Renee went to visit for the first time a week after our arrival, wanting to avoid the impression of arriving en masse. Jake phoned ahead, reminded Phil who he was, explained he'd heard Bella's mother was sick and wondered if he and his fiancee could stop by to say hello while they were in Arizona on vacation. It was a perfectly plausible story, and of course he got the green light. I was there when they arrived. Jacob chatted pleasantly with Renee about Forks and passed along news about Charlie and Sue, Nessie listening quietly, her eyes often resting on Renee. She gradually joined in the conversation, and typically, she had completely won over Renee within minutes. By the end of the visit, they were talking like longtime friends, and Renee was inviting her back for a second visit, Jacob included as an afterthought. So Nessie was able to spend some time getting closer to her grandmother, even if she could not reveal to Renee that she really was a grandmother.

In spite of our help, Renee eventually had to be transferred to the hospital. She needed IV fluids, stronger drugs than we could provide at home, and around the clock nursing care. I unobtrusively made sure her health insurance was in order, prepared to supplement if necessary. The day of the move was difficult. She was taken to the hospital in the middle of the day, meaning I had to come up with some excuse for why I was unable to join her there for several hours.

Once Renee was admitted to the hospital, though, things became simpler for us, if not for her. The hospital had underground parking, which allowed us to visit during the day through the simple expedient of parking before sunrise, making ourselves comfortable in the rafters or the elevator shaft with a couple of good books, and strolling in when visiting hours began.

The days began to run together. Renee became more fatigued, required more pain medication, was able to talk and enjoy our company less and less. I stayed with her, and Edward stayed with me as much as would seem reasonable. Occasionally she would have good days, and we would talk about what she called old times.

"Remember the year you took ballet?"

I grinned at her. "Tried to take ballet. Confess: they offered you double your money back to take me out of the class."

She laughed weakly. "Coordination was never your strong point. That seems to have changed now, though." Perceptive as always.

"I guess I finally grew into my feet."

A card arrived, a huge, homemade one signed by all the members of Renee's grade school class. She grinned happily at the crude, printed signatures. "'We miss you Ms. Dwyer! We love you!'" she read. "I guess this is supposed to be a picture of me." An asymmetrical figure with brown hair and a huge smile was drawn in the centre of the card, surrounded by the children's names.

"Spitting image," I agreed.

"I always did love teaching. Strange, isn't it?"

"Strange?"

"Being responsible for all those little people. Doesn't sound like me, does it?"

Before I could answer, her eyes suddenly began to droop. I was getting used to these sudden bursts of fatigue. and sat quietly while she dropped off to sleep.

Phil would arrive every day after work. Edward and I would always leave the room at that point, ostensibly to get some dinner in the hospital cafeteria, in reality just to allow the two of them some alone time. They got little enough privacy in this institutional setting, in spite of Edward and I having insisted on upgrading Renee's hospital room to a private.

Nessie came back to visit several times; she and Renee had completely bonded. If it seemed strange to Renee that a twenty year old college student she'd met twice had suddenly become her close friend, hanging out with her in the oncology ward where she lay dying, she gave no indication of it. Nessie broke past everyone's defences; people couldn't help but like her. She was one person who was guaranteed to make Renee laugh, on all but the worst days.

"That girl Vanessa is sweet," Renee remarked one day while I helped her eat breakfast. Edward was out of the room for one of the occasional fake trips to the bathroom.

"Yes, she is." I wished I could tell her just how sweet. I wished I could tell my mother that I was a mother myself.

"Jacob calls her Nessie," she chuckled. "Like the Loch Ness Monster."

"I know." I smiled. "Quite a nickname."

"Oh, yes. They're a cute couple. When are they getting married, do you know?"

I pretended detachment. "I'm not sure. I think they said next spring, after final exams."

"A long engagement. Although nowadays, they're probably already living together. Not such a hardship."

I clenched my teeth. "I guess."

"Maybe they're planning a really elaborate wedding, one that takes a whole year to prepare."

"Maybe so." If Alice had anything to say about it. She was ready to make up for my relatively simple nuptials by planning Nessie's wedding on a grander scale.

"I had very small weddings," she said dreamily. "I married your dad by signing a few papers, and Phil at that little wedding chapel - you know. Only six people present."

"Are you sorry?"

"Sorry? No, that was what I wanted, both times. But your wedding was so beautiful, it made me think the old-fashioned kind wasn't so bad after all."

"It made me very happy. And Edward too."

She smiled at me, just a little wearily. "You two have been through a lot." In Africa, I assumed she meant. "Do you still love him the way you did?"

That was one subject I didn't have to fib about for the sake of the cover story. "Yeah, Mom. Exactly the same way. Marrying Edward was one thing I never had a moment's regret over." I caught a vague hint of honey-lilac-and-almost-sunshine from the corridor, and realized Edward was probably close enough to hear. Well, good.

"I thought so. You're still the same together as on your wedding day. How many couples can say that?" A few that I knew of.

"You and Phil are the same. He still adores you."

She smiled, looking like her old self again for a moment. "He's been wonderful through all this."

Edward came back into the room, and the conversation moved on for a while, coming to an end when Renee suddenly dropped off to sleep.

Things began to decline after that day. Renee, who had been having more and more trouble eating, was put on a continuous IV. She got out of bed only to use the bathroom. She slept more, and had the strength for only short conversations.

Edward and I returned to the hotel one night after a particularly bad day. I could almost see my mother slipping away before my eyes. The effort of keeping things calm and cheerful, of not letting my alarm communicate itself to her, of keeping up the cover story, was beginning to wear on me. In our hotel room, Edward put his arms around me, trying to comfort me, and I clung to him gratefully. He began to kiss me gently, then deepened the kiss, holding me against his body in that familiar, wonderfully urgent way before pulling away as though recollecting himself.

"I'm sorry." He smiled at me a little apologetically. "I'm sure that's the last thing on your mind right now."

I shook my head and pulled him closer. "Don't stop. It's what I need. Distract me." He looked at me questioningly, making sure I was serious. "Please, Edward. I just want to...to think about something else right now."

He understood perfectly, and I knew that asking him for help would be an irresistible siren call to him. He pulled me close again and pressed his lips against mine, dedicating himself for the next few hours to my distraction. The rest of the night was an oasis, an interval of happiness and peace that left me better prepared to face the morning.

"Does your mother want pastoral care?" a nurse asked me one day, as I passed her desk on the way to Renee's room.

"Does she want what?"

"A minister, priest, rabbi - anything like that? I don't like to ask the patients directly, because some of them take that as meaning..."

I nodded, understanding. It implied their time was up. "I don't think she still has any attachment to a denomination, but I'll talk to her about it." I thought of something. "Um...are you saying it's nearly time?"

"Well," she hesitated, seeming to gauge my tolerance for straight talk, "it's not far off."

I nodded again, a little numb, and went on to Renee's room.

Mom, typically, named the spiritual community she'd most recently taken an interest in. It was a different one every year, if not every month, since I'd known her. For a while after her diagnosis, she'd visited a little community called the Temple of the Higher Self, which seemed to be a conglomerate of every New Age and popular spiritual idea to have come down the pipes in the last five years. Renee found it inspiring, however. "They have a wonderful outlook on things; and the people are so nice!"

Phil and I looked at each other, and he shrugged. "Do you want me to call them? Maybe have the, uh, minister come for a visit?"

"Oh, that would be nice! She's not called a minister, though. Her title is preceptor, I think, but everybody just calls her Miriam."

"I'll look them up, if you want," I offered, "and see if I can have her come for a visit." Phil looked relieved.

I was a little uneasy that Renee would have her death overseen by some fly-by-night storefront church she'd only been associated with for a very short time. Then I decided it was appropriate. Renee's life had been a series of flits from one idea or activity to another, never sticking with any single one for very long. Why shouldn't her death reflect that as well? Let the Temple of the Higher Self conduct the funeral. Maybe in tandem with the last four or five religions Renee had toyed with. It would be appropriate.

I shared those thoughts with the family later that night, when Edward and I spoke on the phone to all of them at once. We talked to them, individually or as a group, several times a week.

Emmett chuckled at my idea. "A funeral honouring a lifetime of flightiness," he summed up.

"I guess you could put it that way. Or you could call it open-mindedness taken to its logical extreme. She's always been very susceptible to change."

"One of the essential qualities of the human being," Carlisle mused.

Charlie and Sue made the trip to Arizona once Renee was in the hospital. It was a difficult thing for Charlie, uncomfortable as he was with emotional scenes or any situation calling for them. They talked about trivialities for a while, then discussed Renee's condition cautiously. Sue's presence helped. She was caring without being maudlin, and she set the tone for much of the visit. Renee described it all to me later. They found it easier once they started talking about me, and sharing stories of my infancy and childhood. I was the one thing they always had in common, always agreed on. Eventually, while Sue was out of the room getting coffee, Charlie and Renee managed to say their goodbyes in a way satisfying to them both. They stayed overnight, and Charlie made one final visit the next morning, before saying a permanent goodbye and returning to Forks.

We returned to the hotel one night to find a note slipped under our door. I was astonished to recognize Alice's handwriting, and even more surprised to read the message: 'We're here. Room 408. Come see us when you get in.'

"They're here?" I looked at Edward. "Did you have any idea they were coming to Phoenix?"

"None."

"But why would they...?"

"I suggest we go to Room 408 and find out."

The door opened before either of us could knock, and Alice pulled us into the room, closing the door after us.

I was suddenly immensely glad to see her, and pulled her into an enthusiastic hug. "Alice! It's so good to see you."

"You too." She hugged me back, then threw her arms around Edward, grinning. "Good to see both of you. Bet you were surprised to find that note."

I even hugged the undemonstrative Jasper without thinking, and he returned the embrace with a smile. "Surprised doesn't describe it. What made you decide to come to Arizona?"

She sighed. "You sounded a little down, the last few times you phoned home. I thought it couldn't hurt to have more family with you right now and, well, we also thought Jasper might be useful in the days ahead."

"Oh!" I glanced at Jasper. "Well...you may be right about that. Although I only see Renee in the hospital." Jasper studiously avoided hospitals. The combination of large concentrations of humans, fresh blood, and negative emotion was too much for him.

"There are ways around that," he assured me. "I might be able to help your mother and stepfather as well."

"Thank you." I felt better already, just having them both here.

We talked well into the night, until I noticed Alice giving us odd looks. "What's wrong?"

"When was the last time the two of you hunted?"

I looked at Edward. "A little over three weeks."

Jasper shook his head. "Too long. Especially being in close quarters with people, and around fresh blood. You should go out tonight."

"I suppose so." I noticed Edward's eyes. I wore coloured contacts, but Renee was bound to notice, eventually, that Edward's eyes had darkened.

"We'll go with you, if you want," Alice offered, and Jasper nodded. "What's available around here?"

Edward smiled grimly. "One reason we don't hunt that often. Coyotes are the main prey in the immediate area."

"Ew." Alice wrinkled her nose.

"I know, but there were some rabid individuals reported, and we got rid of them. There are deer, elk, some bobcat and mountain lions, if you travel to the larger state parks," Edward said. "Even black bear in some areas."

"Maybe this would be a good night for a long run," Jasper suggested.

We consulted a tourist map for directions to some of the larger natural areas, determined a route, and quietly set out in our rental car. We left the car in a public lot on the outskirts of town and began to run. I was glad they'd suggested hunting tonight; it was a relief to let my instincts lead me, after all the days of continually repressing them. I took down an elk, relishing the relief it gave to my thirst, then stood back to watch Edward stalk a deer. Jasper and Alice took their turns after us, and I found myself ready for additional prey. Jasper was right: it had been too long.

We got back to the car after sunrise, but early enough to find the city still largely deserted. Grateful for the rental car's tinted windows, we parked in the hotel's underground lot and entered the hotel lobby from there, earning barely a glance from the front desk staff. Nessie and Jacob were certainly still asleep at this point. We went back to Alice and Jasper's room to talk.

"What's the situation now, exactly?" Alice asked me.

"It's...winding down," I said. "She was still managing okay when she was admitted to the hospital, but now she's in bed almost continually. She's on IV because she can hardly eat or drink, and they've had to increase the pain meds. She's refused what they call extraordinary measures. They've waived regular visiting hours for Phil and me. And you heard that the nurse suggested getting her last rites soon, if she wanted them."

"I'm so sorry, Bella," Alice put an arm around my waist.

"It's okay. It's why I'm here."

She sighed. "Where are Nessie and Jacob?"

"They have rooms on another floor. They should be awake before too long; we should let them know you're here."

"I'd love to see them again." Alice grinned. "Two rooms?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "And if anybody knows differently, I don't want to hear about it." I heard Edward sigh. "Nessie wants to make one last visit. They can't maintain the story that they're here on vacation for much longer."

"She and Renee really hit it off, I gather."

"Yes. But who doesn't like Nessie?'

"True."

"She has a wonderful climate," Jasper remarked thoughtfully. "Emotional climate, that is. Even humans pick up on it."

I smiled at him. "She's going to pretend to make a goodbye visit, then stay around so she and Jake can attend the..." I hesitated at the word funeral.

Alice hugged me harder.

I arrived at the hospital a little later than usual, after spending some time visiting with Nessie and Jacob and our new support team.

I found out what Jasper had in mind when he said there were ways to help without going into the hospital. He and Alice accompanied us to the hospital, got out of the car in the underground parking area, then climbed the structure's gridwork, unseen, to emerge in a sort of inner courtyard of the hospital which was not visible from the street. There, the building's heating and cooling and other institutional maintenance equipment were housed. From there, they could get close enough to the window of Renee's room to hear us, and for Jasper to pick up on our moods and modify them if necessary. If was a hell of a plan, probably devised before leaving home by researching the hospital's structural outlines. I was incredibly grateful that they would spend their day hidden on top of an air conditioning unit, just to make sure we were all at ease. This was above and beyond, even by Cullen standards.

Renee was a little more alert than usual. After the usual greetings and banter, she pushed herself up into a slightly more upright position in bed. I hurried to help, putting an extra pillow behind her back. "Bella, I think we should talk about funeral arrangements."

I froze a moment. "What about them?"

"I was talking to Miriam the other day. She thinks it can be very therapeutic to make your own plans ahead of time. It helps facilitate acceptance, helps you be more at peace with the situation."

"Okay."

"Miriam offered to go over it with me, if I wanted. I said I'd like to have my family make plans with me, but if you and Phil aren't comfortable with it..."

"No, it's okay. Of course we can do that if you want. Should we wait for Phil?"

"Yes, but he might not be comfortable doing this. If he's not, can you try and make the arrangements for me?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath. This much conversation took a lot out of her. It must be important to her. I braced myself to be as supportive as possible.

"I'd like Miriam to do the service. I know you're not that familiar with her temple, but I've felt very comfortable there, and I know her pretty well. She'll do a good job." She paused to take another deep breath or two.

"Sure, Mom."

"My insurance should pay for a plot and a headstone. I'm okay with cremation if it's less expensive. That's up to Phil, I suppose."

I swallowed. "Anything in particular you'd prefer?"

"Oh...a simple casket, if you use one. Have the headstone mention that I'm a wife and a mother. Those were the things that made me happiest."

"Sure."

"Especially being your mother. You were unexpected, you know," she smiled a little sheepishly, "but I never regretted it for a moment. It's been such a joy, Bella, being your mom."

I longed to tell her I knew, that I was a mother too, and knew what a joy it was. I clamped my teeth firmly together.

Phil came into the room, and one look at his face told me he'd been listening. He kissed Renee gently and sat down by the bed.

"We were talking about..." I began.

"I heard." He looked at Renee. "What about music?"

"Oh!" She actually showed some animation. "I never thought of that. You two know my favourites. Classical, I suppose; pretty music, and not too gloomy, please."

I named a few possibilities, and she approved. Phil became calm as we discussed the details, even suggesting some of Renee's favourite flowers for the casket. I wondered if his calm was Jasper's work. Phil had avoided talking about final arrangements until now.

"Good, then." Renee seemed satisfied that everything was in order, and began to drift into sleep again, as she did more and more often now.

Phil tucked the blankets tenderly around her shoulders, felt her face to make sure she wasn't cold, and leaned back in his chair. He scanned the cards on her bedside table. "Another card from one of the teachers she worked with," he pointed out.

"Yes."

"And one from your in-laws, I see."

I hadn't noticed that. I picked up the card, containing a very sweet note in Esme's handwriting, signed Carlisle and Esme Cullen.

"That was nice of them," Phil observed.

"They always liked Mom. Especially Esme. She loved working on my wedding together."

"Yeah." Phil seemed to be thinking something over. "Are you okay with the...plans?"

"The funeral plans?" He nodded, looking at the floor. "I am if you are."

"I'd rather not have it in that Temple place. We can get the minister, or whatever she is, Miriam, to do the honours, but I'd rather have it in a funeral home. I was never involved in the Higher Self thing like Renee was."

"I'm sure that's fine. Do you want me to find a funeral home and make the arrangements?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"I think I can burn a CD with Mom's favourite music, to play during, if you want."

"That would be great." He was still looking at the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Phil. This part is hard."

"I doubt it'll get any easier for a while."

Doing as much as possible by telephone, I found a funeral home not far from the hospital - one with underground parking - contacted Preceptor Miriam and made an evening appointment to talk with her about presiding over my mother's funeral, purchased a gravesite and ordered an appropriate headstone. I got Phil's approval for everything, but he seemed mostly relieved not to be burdened with these decisions, and I felt better knowing I could ease some of his responsibility at this point. The ability of my vampire brain to focus on the task at hand and move other matters to the back of my mind was particularly useful at this point. Edward took on the task of recording Renee's music, preparing a CD I could present to the funeral directors at the appropriate time.

Miriam turned out to be less of a flake than I'd expected, and she seemed to know Renee surprisingly well. She was clearly the right person for the job. I told her I'd let her know when the time came, and she promised to have something ready - something suitable for a very mixed crowd, spiritually, at my request - for whenever she was needed.

All taken care of.

Things started to move quickly once again. Renee had more trouble breathing, and had to be put on oxygen. This limited conversation, or at least made it very one-sided. Phil took some time off work so he could stay with her for most of the day. She slept more and more, and Phil contented himself with sitting at her bedside, holding her hand as she slept. Sometimes he seemed to be ready to cry, or hit something, but then he would suddenly sigh and become calm again. I suspected Jasper was helping, and I was grateful. It was possible he was helping me, too.

I went back to the hotel one evening, ostensibly to sleep, and a few hours later received a call from the hospital. They thought I should come back. In spite of their careful euphemisms, it was clear what was going on. I hung up, turned to Edward and held onto him tightly. He held me as well, stroking my hair soothingly until I could calm down.

We drove to the hospital along with Alice and Jasper, Edward driving quietly through the dark, deserted 2:00 AM streets. We stopped in the parking garage and Alice and Jasper prepared to take up their usual position. "Jasper," I said, and he stopped and turned to me. "Please, if I need your help..."

He nodded. "I'll be there."

"No, what I meant to say was, if it seems like I might do something...conspicuous, anything like that, of course do what you have to do. But otherwise, I'd rather you held back." He raised his eyebrows questioningly. "My mother's dying. I'm going to feel awful, but I should feel awful. I should be able to grieve. I don't want to have everything numbed unless it's necessary. You understand?"

He looked at me solemnly. "Of course. I'll let you be if I can. The same for Phil."

"Thank you." He took Alice's hand and they disappeared.

Edward and I took the familiar route to Renee's room, walking quietly through the dim, nearly deserted corridors of the hospital. The nurse at the desk recognized us, and silently waved us in.

Phil was in his usual position beside Renee's bed, holding her hand. She was asleep, or unconscious. Phil looked up as we entered. "She's been like this for a couple of hours," he said. "The nurse told me she might not wake up again."

A nurse walked in, took Renee's vitals, and prepared to leave again. "Is she in any pain?" I asked her.

"No. She's well medicated, and there's no sign of pain." She pulled up two more chairs beside the bed and offered them to us. "Not too much longer now, I think."

We sat quietly, Phil holding my mother's left hand, gently smoothing her wedding band over and over, and I holding her right hand. After about twenty minutes, she opened her eyes. She seemed not to see at first; then she looked in my direction and smiled a little. Phil said her name, and she looked at him; her smile grew just a little bit. Then her eyes closed again.

Her breathing, in spite of the oxygen, became more laboured. After a little over an hour, her breaths became sporadic and shallow. When we heard a harsh, rattling sound with each breath, I felt Edward's hand on my back. He recognized the symptoms. She took one final breath, let it out, and didn't draw another one.

Phil leaned down to kiss her hand then sat, his head bent, as the nurses did what they had to do. Edward and I moved out of their way and stood a few feet from the bed, watching. A doctor came in, checked her, and made her death official. "We'll give you some time," one of the nurses said vaguely, and everyone left the room.

I went to Renee and kissed her cheek. Soon she'd be as cold as I was. I wondered what Jasper made of my emotions; once again, I wasn't entirely sure what I felt. There was too much going through my mind, all at once. I leaned my head against Edward's shoulder, and he held me quietly until a nurse returned.

"I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, "but could you tell me where we're to release the body?" I gave her the name of the funeral home, and she nodded and left the room.

We were offered a private room, known as a 'family room,' where we could have some privacy. Phil didn't seem ready to move from the bedside yet, so Edward and I accepted the offer. It was something of a relief to leave for a little while. I used the adjoining bathroom to change my quickly disintegrating contact lenses, and we returned just as a nurse was trying to get Phil to go home and get some rest. They were waiting to bring her to the morgue, I assumed. Phil finally agreed, and we walked together toward the parking.

"Are you all right to drive?" a nurse asked him.

"I'll drive," Edward said. "We can pick up our car later, or arrange for someone to get it." We passed by our car on the way to Phil's and Edward placed his keys on the roof. He whispered that Jasper and Alice would be driving it back to the hotel.

We stayed with Phil through the following day, helping him make the necessary phone calls to friends and relatives. He finally agreed to go to bed and try to get a few hours' sleep, with the agreement that we would sack out in the second bedroom. We stayed there, whispering to each other, until we heard Phil get up again.

People started arriving about noon. Phil's sister fell naturally into the role of overseer, taking charge of everything that needed taking charge of. She arrived with a covered casserole and a pot of soup, the traditional response to a bereavement. Others came with cakes and covered dishes, platters of brownies, baskets of cheese and crackers, and one bottle of Irish whiskey. The little house had enough food in it to last a week. Their friends and relatives, Renee's fellow teachers, neighbours, and members of the Temple of the Higher Self filled the house, both supported Phil and offering him some distraction. Phil seemed to be coping reasonably well, I thought, but Edward whispered to me that Jasper was not far away.

We stayed another night, helped Phil finalize the arrangements with the funeral home, order flowers, and go over Miriam's proposed eulogy, which was surprisingly tasteful and appropriate. Then, deciding that Phil had enough support, and seeing that his sister was preparing to move in for a time, we suggested going back to the hotel for the third night. My part in this was drawing to an end; I would not be needed here much longer.