Chapter 4; Esme's POV
The decision to allow them to come hadn't been an easy one, and for one terrifying moment I thought a riff was being created in my precious family. But even as Rosalie disappeared outside Alice assured me that she would be back and everything would be okay.
The votes had been split. Edward, Rosalie, and Jasper voted no. And I, my husband, Alice and Emmett had voted yes. Even Bella wanted Jacob to come with us; it was obvious she still thought of him as her best friend.
I believe that we all knew saying no would only lead to a heartbroken Nessie and a persistent werewolf at the back door.
With Alice's connections it wouldn't be hard to falsify documents to make the transition a bit smoother, but still I wasn't quite sure how we would explain our odd group to our new neighborhood.
Surely questions would arise even faster than normal... I couldn't sell the three La Push natives as my children like I could the others… or could I?
I smiled happily as I pulled the venison roast from the oven. Charlie was coming over to say goodbye. The stench of the food was almost worse than the werewolves holed up in my living room.
I felt my eldest son enter the room and I turned. His expression was closed, tortured and instantly I knew what was wrong.
"I'm sorry Edward, but we did the right thing." Stepping forward I placed my hand on his forehead, pushed his bronze bangs back and looked into his honeyed eyes.
"How do you know..?" He whispered and placed his hand on mine.
"She would never forgive you if you took away her puppy." I supplied, hoping to comfort him the best I could. "Jacob is just a little lost lamb, like you were before Bella came along. We'll watch him and Nessie. Everything is going to be fine…"
I could see the battle waging on in his mind through his topaz gaze. "I hope you are right… Mom."
My lips parted with emotion as they always did when my 'kids' indulged me with calling me any synonym of mother. "Oh… and by the way… That smells disgusting."
He dove out of the way as I made a halfhearted move to slap at him. His singing laughter was the last thing I heard as he exited the room.