3. ANNOUNCEMENT
ALICE AND I WERE ALONE IN THE DARKENED FOREST, AS STILL AND COLD AS THE
outcropping of granite on which we reclined. The stone jutted slightly out over a shallow stream and we both sat lost in our own thoughts, yet, somehow, perfectly attuned to each other's. I was laying on my back, my knees and face pointing toward the unusually clear sky, my head resting in Alice's lap. Her small figure was completely motionless, her satin hands resting on my stone chest. My hands were folded across my stomach as I stared up at the stars, admiring the twinkling lights so seldom seen here in Forks. The unseasonably warm air -- well, low fifties felt warm to my ice-cold skin -- and clear skies reminded me of a night I had spent many years ago on a battlefield outside Galveston, Texas. There was such an immense span of clear sky there. Mountains in the distance, trees -- but openness. I thought I knew how Bella felt moving from the arid, expansive brown desert of Arizona to this wet, cloudy, green place. No stars, no sand, no dry wind. It was like an alien planet, as she had once described it to me. I remembered vaguely -- a human memory -- the darkness of that open Texan field: the smell of the smoky campfires, the sounds of harmonicas and banjos and rough male voices singing songs of home; the odd feeling of assurance and confidencethat I knew most of the other soldiers did not share. But I had thought this was where I was meant to be. I had been sure of it. This is what I was meant to do. Even though I was not yet eighteen, I felt certain that I was supposed to be here, to fight, to lead. I was convinced that this was my destiny. I smiled inwardly, though not a twitch was betrayed in my marble features. Who could have known the anguished and gory trail I would have to travel before I did find my true destiny? Before I found her...
I inclined my head slightly so I could shift my gaze to Alice's exquisite face; her smoldering eyes, amber now from our recent hunt; her flawless, silken skin, glowing pale in the moonlight; her thick, dark hair, barely ruffled by the light night breeze; her thoughtful, pink pout... She was lost in memories too, but hers were memories of things that had not yet come to pass -- visions of the possible future she had seen, some still vague and ghostly, some solidifying into probability. I wondered casually what she had seen. She did not seem concerned, just mildly interested. I moved my large hands slowly to rest them upon hers. She smiled without breaking her gaze. I looked back up at the stars.
Yes, over a hundred years ago I had stood in an open field under such stars. A field filled with men and horses and canvas and steel, gunpowder and biscuits on the breeze -- and felt sure I knew what life had in store for me. I was certain I would not fall in battle. Young as I was I had a quick mind for combat and tactics. At the time I was sure that was why I had been promoted so quickly over older, more experienced soldiers. I knew now it was most likely due to my "charisma -- with an edge" as Emmett had once put it. Even as a human I had an uncanny knack for persuading people to see things my way, for guiding them down the path I wanted them to follow. I believed I would continue to rise quickly through the ranks as long as the war held out. When the war ended I could easily gain a commission nearly anywhere in the country. I would move somewhere prosperous, maybe just a few day's train ride from my parent's home in Houston. I would find a respectable, pretty southern girl. We would marry and have lots of children; a boy to name Jackson -- after my father and General Stonewall Jackson (I had thought the dual tribute quite convenient; at the time it was rather en vogue to name one's children after the various war heroes. My own cousin's name was "Paralee" -- para meaning "for" in Spanish, and "Lee" for General Lee...)-- some pretty little girls with flaxen hair, as mine had been when I was a child. I had thought a great deal about the future I believed I was destined for. And yet, the essential part of that equation, the woman I was going to tie the rest of my life to, never seemed all that important. Perhaps it was the era, the young age at which people married. Arranged marriages were still common. People didn't marry for love as much as for convenience. I could still picture young Jackson and the flaxen-haired girls, but I couldn't envision a woman for me other than Alice. How arrogant I had been! To assume I knew anything about love and life and destiny... Reality had transpired much differently -- much differently -- than I could ever have imagined then. I smiled outwardly now, a smooth grin that broke the sometimes harsh features of my battle-scarred face. For all the pain and suffering that I had endured, that I had inflicted, I could not ask for more from my life. Or, my existence, as life seemed only an accurate description when you would some day die. Barring any unforeseen tragedies -- and Alice would see them -- my love and I would live together for centuries, for eternity. And that was why I could never complain. Perhaps I was not as fast as Edward or as strong as Emmett or as self-controlled as Carlisle. For our kind I was not beautiful like Rosalie, or sensitive and kind in the way Esme was. I had my weaknesses and my struggles and my imperfections ... but I also had Alice. Alice who knew what I was thinking without reading my mind. Alice who made me want to be strong and good and controlled. Alice who had saved me, quite literally. When I was lost and wandering and without hope, Alice had come. My own angel. Come and saved me from my own despair. She had been a light in the darkest night, even then. A haloed seraph sent by some merciful god to take my hand and guide me through the pitch black to the brightening dawn.
I looked at her again as I remembered the day we had found each other. It was decades ago, but in my mind I saw her as clearly as I saw her now. She was there inside the artificially-lit diner, sliding off the high bar stool to walk straight toward me. No hesitation, no embarrassment, no fear. She was tiny and unbelievably graceful. She seemed to dance across the floor with her delicate hand outstretched. I knew she was one of my kind, but I could not understand what she was doing. Did she mean to attack? She was so small (and certainly no match for my years of fighting experience in any case), but I couldn't imagine why else she would be prancing toward me, without a trace of fear. Even as I calculated the maneuvers I could make in this limited space, taking in the placement of the chairs and booths and tables in my peripheral vision -- judging how quickly I could incapacitate her if necessary and make my escape -- I couldn't help noticing her fascinating beauty. She was unbelievably petite -- her head would come no higher than the top of my torso -- but she had this assurance about her, as I once had as a soldier. She was utterly sure of herself, and, it seemed, of me. Her black hair had been long, then, falling down her back in slight waves. Her slender body was clothed in one of the form-fitting dresses of the time, expensive pale blue silk with oversized buttons running down the length of the bodice. Her dove-white hands seemed delicate, almost doll-like. She was perfectly formed; slender but with an awe-inspiring grace that only prima ballerina's -- or angels -- could possess.
All this I noticed in a fraction of a second. What caught my gaze -- and held it -- were her eyes. Her high cheekbones, pointed chin, pale creamy skin, and smiling lavender lips did not escape my attention, but her eyes... They were black, like mine, framed by thick dark lashes that were not a product of the current fads within the cosmetics industry. Her eyes were kind and gentle, deep. Unbelievably deep. It had been a long time since I had looked at my own reflection (these days I avoided that action with despondent resolve), but I was sure when I had looked back at myself my eyes had seemed soulless, shallow, empty. The eyes of a monster. Looking into her ebony eyes I couldn't believe the depth I saw there. I felt as though I could see her soul. I had been nearly certain that our kind was damned, that I had lost my soul altogether and was fated to wander this hell for eternity; alone, despairing, loathing myself and everything around me... But this girl, this seraphic creature, she had a soul. I would have bet my existence on it. She may be a vampire, but she was good and kind and compassionate. I knew it. Though my self-preservation instincts were to tense at her approach, preparing for combat as had been bored into me by nearly a century of blood and war, my other instincts told me to follow this tiny angel to the ends of the earth. I halted for the briefest fraction of a second, my two instincts battling with each other. I tried to reason. I knew first-hand that many of my kind had "talents" above and beyond the normal properties of our race. Perhaps this woman had some sort of bewitching allurement? But my own talents told me there was no deceit about her, no feeling of tension or anger or predation. She was honestly happy to see me. She was somewhat impatient, so slightly nervous that it was almost imperceptible, but mostly overwhelmingly happy. There was a sense of satisfaction and eagerness about her, as though she had been waiting for me here in this out-of-the-way place I had never been before. She smiled at me, and then she spoke. Her voice was the silver tinkling of an angel's choir. My breath caught in my throat.
"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said softly. None of the diner patrons heard her, but her voice was as clear as a bell to me. A silver, tinkling bell...
I didn't know how to respond. Without considering I answered as I had been brought up to answer a lady. I nodded my head in apology and said,
"I'm sorry ma'am."
She held out her tiny, doll-like hand. I took it without thinking. Suddenly, the battle that had raged inside me was calm. Not just the war between my instincts, wondering at her actions, but the wars over right and wrong, necessity and desire, animal instincts and the longing for a peaceable existence... All was quiet within me the instant I touched her. And in this sudden calm there was abruptly room for an emotion I had not felt in decades, perhaps not felt since I'd been reborn. Suddenly, I felt maybe there was something worth living for, another way to exist. Suddenly I felt maybe there was a way to avoid the guilt and misery and despair. Suddenly, I felt ... hope.
"I'm Alice," she said brightly, taking my arm, "I've been waiting. I knew you would come, though I had thought it would be sooner..." She looked up at me as she led me to one of the vinyl booths in a darkened corner of the diner. The waitress eyed us cautiously, almost rudely, from across the restaurant. Perhaps her instincts told her to stay away from us -- humans did have a strong sense of self-preservation, though they often ignored it -- but she did not bother to ask us to order. I sat down obediently and Alice slid in beside me, her arm still in mine. I was confused, but utterly fascinated.
"Do-" I stammered, not sure where to begin, "Do you know me?"
"Well, yes and no," she smiled again. "I've seen you. I know some of your recent history. But we've never met, if that's what you mean." She placed her hand upon my arm, still smiling. She seemed perfectly comfortable, as if we were old friends -- or maybe something more...
"You've seen me?" I asked, hinting for her to elaborate. I was curious to understand -- more to know about her than to know about the situation. Truthfully I was a bit dazed by her.
"I have a gift, like yours," she said, looking me candidly in the eye. I saw again the immeasurable depths, saw the extraordinary soul within her... I wondered vaguely what she knew of my gift. It didn't overly concern me.
"I get flashes -- images -- of things that have not yet happened. I see what is coming -- "
"You see the future?" I asked, more interested now. This would certainly be a valuable gift to possess. How fascinating...
"Well, loosely speaking, yes. But the future isn't set in stone, as some believe. Everything depends on our actions, on our decisions," she waved her free hand as she explained. I was momentarily entranced by the movement. It was so incomprehensibly graceful. She continued,
"For example, if a man had decided to drive down one road, I would see where that road would take him, what would happen along his journey. But say he came to a fork in the road, and on a whim decided to choose another path. My vision would change, and I would then see his new journey, and where this new road would lead him."
I looked at her, deeply intrigued.
"So, the future can always change? Nothing is definite?" I wasn't sure about this. I had been so certain of fate and destiny. So certain of my own damnation...
"Well, everyone has aspects about them, about their lives and personalities and beginnings, that make some avenues very likely. A criminal who lives in a cycle of death and greed and treachery is almost certain to die in a web of that same violence and greed and treachery. A beautiful, wealthy, educated girl is almost certain to grow up in a harbored, lush world. She would be most unlikely to, say, ever have to sleep on the streets or sell coal. But no, as far as I can tell, there is no such thing as fate." She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she continued,
"But on the other hand, I don't know what you would call us. Certainly you never chose to meet me, and I never chose to have visions of you, and yet..." She gestured toward us with her free hand. The phrase poetry in motion sprang to my mind.
"So, what, you think we were destined to meet? Why would that be..." I trailed off, considering this. How could it be, after all the atrocities I had committed, that my destiny was to meet this angel? Was the mere fact that I regretted my past -- felt wretched, appalled, by my own existence -- penitence enough to be forgiven?
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I was coming to that. I saw that you were wandering, miserable, guilty, wishing for another way... I think I can help."
I looked at her, almost helplessly. It was strange that she knew what I was searching for, but I didn't see how she could offer a solution. I didn't think there was a solution. Wouldn't I have thought of one by now if one existed?
"There is a family up North," she continued, her eyes moving in the direction of the distant hills. "They are ... different. They don't want to harm people either. They've found a way -- another way -- to survive. They will take us in with open arms. They're quite kind."
"Us?" I asked, surprised. Was she going to come with me? Could it be possible that she was more than a savior, more than an angel to pull me out of the darkness and bring me into the light of hope? Did she mean for us to stay together?
"Well, yes," she smiled at me, guessing my thoughts. Already it seemed as though it might be more than guessing. She seemed to understand me in a way I thought only I could understand others. She seemed to know my mind, but she did not claim that as an ability. I hadn't ever known someone with more than one gift, but I supposed it was possible...
"I've been searching for the same thing you have. I want another way. I don't ... remember ... being human," she said slowly, almost sadly, "but I feel ... compassion for them. I don't want to be ... a monster... either." She spoke the word very softly, almost inaudibly, even to me. I could feel that this thought was difficult for her. I could feel guilt and sadness and regret. I stared at the faux-granite table top, my brow furrowed. I didn't like to feel her upset. I wanted very much to comfort her, to tell her I knew she wasn't a monster. That idea was preposterous! Didn't she know she was an angel, sent to me from some unknown and glorious plane of forgiveness? Didn't she know no god anywhere could damn such a wonderful creature?
I slowly realized that the pain she felt had faded, and a new emotion was burning stronger and stronger. Was it ... hope? I looked up at her quickly, and was surprised to see she was staring at me, the same protectiveness and adoration on her face that I felt on my own.
"You are what I've been searching for," she whispered, "Searching a long time. I was losing hope too. I was starting to think I might be better off if ... well, that would have been difficult anyhow. But then I saw you."
I looked at her incredulously. What could she have seen of my past that would give her hope? She shook her head, smiling. Again, I felt that she knew what I was thinking.
"You are good," she said simply, "You are strong and kind and loyal. You will love me for eternity, as I will you. I've seen it. I've seen what you are capable of -- " I cringed, assuming she meant the horrors in my black past. She shook her head again.
"No, I mean, what you will be capable of. I told you, you are good. We can't help what was forced upon us. But now we can choose to live as we wish, in peace, in happiness. We can ... do what's right."
I looked at her again. I could hardly allow myself to believe the things she said, the things she saw in me. I couldn't see how anyone, a creature of heaven especially, could see any virtue in me. I felt almost foolish hoping the good was there, as she had said. I wanted to be good. I suddenly wanted with all my heart to be worthy of her, this graceful being that had already given me so much. More than I had ever thought I'd have again. That hope she had inspired in me flared again, swelled, filling my chest. Maybe this all could be real. Maybe there was someone somewhere who could show me the moral and civilized path I had been searching for. Maybe it was even possible that this beautiful and unbelievably-compassionate creature could travel that path with me. However long she would walk, I would shadow. As long as she would let me follow at her side, I would. Suddenly the instinct I had felt to follow her to the ends of the earth seemed incredibly inadequate -- the end of the earth seemed a paltry distance. I would follow this angel to heaven or hell and back, from this life to any plane of existence. If I could help it, I would never leave her.
"We will go, then." I said. "Wherever you lead, I will follow."
She smiled, sliding fluidly out of the booth. She held her hands out to me and I took them both, their satin-smoothness sending currents of electricity and calm through my cold figure at the same time. My chest swelled with a jumble of emotions. Hope, gratuity, eagerness, happiness ... love. She turned toward the door as she put her arm in mine again. She danced along the dingy tile on weightless feet.
"By the way," she smiled at me sheepishly as I held the door open for her and we walked out into the now-twilit street. I looked back at her and all her tiny seraphic perfection. My Alice. My angel. I didn't even notice the rain.
"Yes?" She could ask anything of me -- even my life. I would give it gladly. She giggled a tinkling, bell laugh, then looked up at me.
"I forgot to ask. What is your name?"
* * * *
I chuckled softly at the memory.
"What?" she asked, finally breaking her stare and glancing down at me. In a lightning quick movement I sat up and scooped her into my arms, cradling her like a child as I sat cross-legged on the granite.
"I was just reminiscing about the day we met," I smiled.
"Oh," she returned my grin -- a radiant expression that stopped my breath.
"Whatever happened to that hair?" I asked, twining a short strand of her ebony mane around my fingers.
"Oh, I like to keep up with the times -- blend in," she laughed. A loud chortle escaped my lips too. Everyone knew Alice did not blend in, especially in this tiny town. Rosalie's looks might make her more conspicuous, but Alice's penchant for run-way fashion could never permit anyone in Forks to pass her by without staring, inhuman beauty and grace aside. I eyed the clingy cream-colored satin slip dress she was dressed in now meaningfully.
"Well, there is something to be said for modern fashion."
She laughed again and sat up to face me, wrapping her legs around my hips, our eyes almost level. Her eyes hadn't changed in all this time. Although they were amber now instead of black, they still had that unfathomable depth to them. I could see straight to her soul.
"Wait 'til you see what I picked out for Carlisle and Esme's anniversary," she breathed mischievously. Her cool breath -- and her words -- sent an electric current through my body. "Very fashion-forward!"
I leaned down to brush her lips with my own.
"Succubus." I murmured, smiling, my lips still against hers. I could feel her smile back as she pressed her lips harder to mine. I grasped her tiny waist as she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, pulling herself to me. The electric current was filling my body now, an anticipation only Alice could conjure. Her lips parted and I could taste her sweet breath. She raked her fingers through my hair.
One hand around her waist, I moved the other to grasp her short locks. Although Rosalie and Emmett were supposed to be the "wild" ones, Alice had a little tigress in her too. She loved it when I pulled her hair. An audible gasp escaped her lips and her mouth parted further. Her head leaned back, her eyes closed. I kissed her jaw, moving my lips down to her throat, her collarbone.
"Oh!" She straightened up stiffly and opened her eyes.
"What?" I asked disinterestedly. I kept my mouth on her silken skin.
"We should go back," she looked over my shoulder, back in the direction of the white house, "Something important is coming. Renesmee wants to tell us something..."
She looked back at me, and her eyes turned apologetic as she saw the dramaticized disappointment on my face.
"Sorry," she smiled, and softly kissed my lips, "We'll have to pick this up again later."
I sighed loudly.
Alice disentangled herself from my lap and rose, like a ballerina from a stage. I rose too, a bit unwillingly. Alice's vision could be so ... inconvenient.
"How about a wager, to make it up to you?" She eyed me impishly. I cocked my head in grudging interest.
"What did you have in mind?"
"We'll race back. Whoever wins gets to choose what I wear to bed tonight."
I grinned broadly. Nothing sounded good. Then again, Alice's awe-inspiring collection of lingerie had its perks. Hmm...
"Ok, then!" She laughed, and darted off toward the house.
"Cheater!" I called after her, but then took off like a bullet. I could usually outrun her, and I guessed with the added motivation there would be no contest. Alice raced ahead of me, barely seeming to touch the ground, almost soaring over the forest floor like a sprite. But in the end, she was no match for my power and strength -- especially with a little added incentive. I catapulted over the stream to the house a full two seconds before she sprang lightly over it.
"I won!" I smiled triumphantly, my arms folded across my chest. "Now let's see..."
She chuckled, not seeming to mind losing; a lilting musical sound that seemed like angels singing. She put her arm through mine and turned us toward the house.
"Patience, Jazz, patience. Let's see what's going on first."
I pretended to huff in disappointment, but strode into the house alongside her. Maybe I could find some other new purchases stashed away in that labyrinthine closet of ours. The thought gave me some fortitude to wait out whatever news was coming. I wondered idly whether Renesmee had finally realized how she felt about Jacob. Maybe Jacob had given her a little push, a little hint about the direction their relationship was heading. That might be almost worth postponing Alice's fashion show! To see the look on Edward's face if Renesmee and Jacob announced they were together...
I was still smiling at the thought when we entered the kitchen. Bella was there making fried chicken and mashed potatoes -- I assumed for Jacob or Seth, though I couldn't smell either one. She looked up as we walked in.
"What are you grinning about?" She asked me, smiling herself. She held the frying pan with one hand and, with a deft flick of her wrist, caused the chicken to rise in the air like a pancake and flip over, ready to crisp the other side. Her eyes didn't move from mine.
"Oh, nothing," I continued to grin, "Alice just lost a rather enticing bet..."
Alice gave me a mockingly exasperated look.
"I let you win," she sniffed.
From the familiar gleam in my eye, Bella knew better than to press for further information.
"Ah," was all she said.
"So where is everybody? I was under the impression there was an important announcement to be made." I walked over to the large dining room table and sat down in one of the high-backed chairs. This was mostly out of habit -- just as with breathing, we didn't really need to rest -- standing was just as comfortable as sitting. I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. Bella used to tell me, back in her human days, that I looked like a male model posing for a catalogue for men's apparel when I sat like this -- casually leaning, my feet apart, my head tilted slightly to one side in anticipation. I supposed we all looked like models to human eyes. Another part of the predatory lure...
Bella looked confused. "Well, Jacob's supposed to be back from La Push soon with Renesmee," she nodded toward the chicken, "but I didn't think there was anything unusual about that..." she trailed off, a slight frown on her face, her brow puckering just as it had when she was human. I wondered if she was thinking what I had been thinking. She wasn't feeling any strong emotions -- not sadness or anger or happiness. She just seemed thoughtful.
"Well, maybe I was a little early," Alice's eyes darted to mine apologetically. "But they'll all be here soon."
She danced over to Bella and peered over her shoulder at the contents of the pan. She wrinkled her nose. It was like a kitten being offered a new brand of cat food. She was adorable. "Do you need any help?"
"Oh, I think I'm about done. It's a good thing I was human once so I at least know how these things should look. But I have to say, it is rather difficult cooking when it all tastes and smells terrible." Bella prodded a piece of chicken with her finger -- no need to use a fork; she wasn't going to get burned.
Alice nodded in agreement. Not that she really ever tried to cook. There wasn't really any point. The only people she cared for that still ate food were Jacob, Seth, and Charlie. Bella usually cooked for Jacob and Seth when they were over, though on occasion Renesmee would don an apron. Renesmee tried cooking every so often -- it seemed to me more out of curiosity than desire. She was, according to the werewolves, a wonderful cook (which didn't surprise me, as Renesmee was wonderful at everything she tried), but she seemed to grow bored with the occupation quickly and would move on to something else. Besides, I knew she preferred to hunt with Jacob, rather than watching him eat human food.
As for Charlie, there was no doubt Sue's cooking had us all beat, so he was usually set. I remembered fleetingly the huge reception feast -- none of which any of us Cullens could eat -- she and Leah had prepared for her wedding to Charlie three years ago. The human and werewolf guests, at least, seemed to find it delicious. Charlie had gone back for fourths.
Alice sashayed to the now sporadically-used cupboards and pulled out a china plate. With a twirl that really belonged on a stage she slid open a drawer and pulled out a silver fork and knife with her other hand. She set them lithely on the counter next to Bella.
"Hmm," she speculated, looking at the silverware, "I wonder where the silver and werewolf legends came from? Maybe there's some truth to it..."
She smiled mischievously at Bella. "Let's let Rosalie test it out."
Bella and I laughed.
"Oh, I don't think so," Bella snickered, lifting three pieces of fried chicken onto the plate with her bare hand, "Renesmee would never forgive you if you took her Jacob away, even if it was in the name of science."
"Jacob's not a real werewolf, anyway," I reminded Alice, smirking, "and you know if it worked, Caius would know by now." I didn't miss that Bella involuntarily flinched at the name.
I had heard the stories about Caius, of the Volturi, and his hatred for werewolves before. He had hunted the true creatures nearly into extinction. As far as I knew, the only surviving beasts were keeping to themselves in remote parts of Europe. I doubted we'd ever run into any to test the silver theory for ourselves.
"What's up?" Emmett asked as he tramped into the kitchen. He pulled up a chair beside me and turned it so that he straddled it with his chin and broad arms leaning on the back.
"Apparently there's going to be some big announcement," I said, feeling for Bella's reaction. Her brow furrowed again, but there were still no strong emotions.
"Huh," Emmett said nonchalantly. He didn't seem overly-interested. He usually figured things would be explained in their own time -- no need to get worked up about them.
Esme and Carlisle, hearing our voices, walked into the kitchen arm in arm. The advent of their ninetieth anniversary seemed to make them more in love than ever. They were often to be found these days staring blissfully into each other's eyes, lost in their own world. It was sweet, but somewhat out of character. Carlisle was usually very perceptive, very concerned with the happiness and well-being of those around him. The past few weeks he hadn't seemed to notice much but Esme. Ah, well, I thought, no one can be a saint all the time. The thought gave me a small amount of comfort, for which I immediately felt guilty. Just because I struggled with being good shouldn't mean I wanted anyone else to. But it was nice to know even Carlisle wasn't always perfect.
Rosalie and Edward entered the living room then, Rosalie wiping the grease from her perfect hands onto a dishrag. I could see them from my seat in the dining room. Edward was spotless as usual, though they had obvious come from working on the cars. They were engrossed in a discussion of the pros and cons of two competing German-engineered engines. Rosalie wanted to keep the current engine in the new BMW Z4 Roadster she'd bought for "day trips" with Emmett and just "improve" upon it. Rosalie and her convertibles, I thought in resignation. They were so impractical for someone who wasn't supposed to be exposed in the sun. Edward thought she should replace it with the new Astin Martin V-8 Vantage engine that was apparently all the rage in Europe. I shook my head. I still didn't get it.
"What's going on?" Rosalie asked as she noticed us all assembled in the dining room.
"Renesmee has something to tell us," Edward said, reading Alice's thoughts. He, at least, felt some anxiety.
"Bella?" he asked, walking toward her.
"Don't ask me," she set the plate of chicken and mashed potatoes at Jacob's designated spot at the table. Alice placed the silverware upon a cloth napkin next to it.
"Well, we're about to find out," Emmett wrinkled his nose. We could all smell Jacob approaching. The much sweeter, floral scent of Renesmee was mingled with the sickly dog smell. Ech. We should make Jacob take a bath.
"Or get him some cologne," Edward muttered. Bella elbowed him.
We all looked in expectation at the front door as Jacob opened it and Renesmee, laughing and smiling so broadly it was hard to keep from mirroring her, glided through. None of us missed that her left hand was inconspicuously hidden behind her back. Could they really have made that leap in one afternoon? Immediately I could feel a jumble of emotions in the room. Happiness and congratulations from Carlisle and Esme; a mixture of these, anxiety, and slight sadness from Bella; a mocking sentiment of relief from Emmett (I could practically hear him thinking, It's about time!); happiness but also slight disappointment from Rosalie; almost overwhelming elation tinged by anxiety from Alice ... and I knew why she was anxious. The strongest -- almost overpowering -- feeling emanating from the dining room was fury. This, of course, was from Edward. I looked at him, warily. With great effort he was restraining himself, attempting to compose his face into one of polite interest. He was failing utterly.
Renesmee and Jacob looked up in surprise at the unexpected gathering of the entire family. Renesmee seemed to realize this was a tricky moment. Jacob, however, could not contain his euphoria. He beamed so broadly I thought his face might crack.
"Well," Renesmee said, walking smoothly to the dining room, "I guess you all know we have something to tell you." She shot a fleeting glare at Alice, who looked at the floor guiltily. I could hear the low growl building in Edward's throat.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. We were a room of waxworks. No one even breathed.
"I'm engaged!" Renesmee shouted, holding up her left hand for everyone to see. Despite her anxiety about our reactions, she was unable to contain her excitement. Her smile -- so beautiful it was mesmerizing on a normal day -- was almost blinding in its radiance.
"Oh, darling!" Esme cried, and sprang forward to embrace her.
"No!"
We all turned to stare at Edward. His fists were clenched and he was rigid with rage. Definitely better than a fashion show, I thought to myself. I did feel a little worried, though. Just yesterday Edward had blown up about Jacob's irresponsibility in giving Renesmee a trifling human gift. I cringed at the thought of what his anger would be now, when Jacob was trying to take his only daughter away from him and, aside from that, make her a woman. None of us liked to think of Renesmee on a honeymoon.
"No," he growled again.
"Dad -- " Renesmee started. Edward cut her off.
"You are not getting married. You're only a child!"
"Dad, I'm fully grown. I know I haven't been around that long, but, technically I'm an adult now -- "
Edward shook his head, his eyes shut tightly trying to control himself. Bella reached to put her hand on his shoulder but hesitated. No one needed my gift to be able to tell that Edward was about to explode at any moment.
"Look," Renesmee said defiantly. We all knew that set to her jaw, that determined look in her eyes. It was just like her father's. It had been adorable when she was a child. Right now, though, it could only mean trouble, "I am not a child anymore. And you must have known this was coming, sooner or later. We were practically betrothed at birth."
Edward glared at her furiously. He and Bella had never entirely gotten over the ... awkwardness of Jacob imprinting on their baby. Though his intentions were beyond reproach, we all knew that someday he and Renesmee would be romantically involved. I had to admit, it was always a little creepy.
"Technically," Edward breathed through clenched teeth, "you're only six." He glared fiercely at Jacob now, "What is wrong with you!"
I heard Emmett chuckle. Bella shot him an angry glance. He quickly changed his expression to one of innocence. Jacob looked troubled. Again I wondered if he had really not considered Edward's reaction, or if the idea that Renesmee would be happy merely made that thought unimportant. It would be important when we had to hold Edward down to keep him from tearing Jacob limb from limb...
Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but Renesmee put her velvety hand upon his cheek. She used her gift much less frequently now than she had as a child, deciding speaking aloud was more efficient -- though often less specific and expressive -- than "showing" people what she wanted. Still, it certainly had its uses. Jacob relaxed immediately and watched Renesmee reverently.
"Dad," Renesmee said, deciding to try another approach. Her voice was calm and soothing, "Try to think about this rationally. What is it, exactly, that you object to?"
"Where do I start?" Edward growled. He shook his head again. "You are young, even if you are physically grown up. There's so much left for you to do, to see, to experience..."
Behind him Bella looked almost annoyed. Hadn't she given Edward a dozen excuses why she didn't want to get married so young, he always insisting there was no reason to wait?
"I can still see and experience everything. I'll just do it with Jacob. We probably would have done it together anyway." Renesmee reasoned.
"What about college?" Edward asked her, looking at Jacob pointedly. For months now Edward had been trying to convince his daughter to attend college. It was more for the experience than for the actual education. Renesmee already knew almost everything, and she could pick up the things she didn't know in about two seconds. But there was something to be said for the normal college experience, I thought. I, myself, had attended three universities throughout the years, and each campus, each collegiate body, each sporting event, each lecture was different, new. It was an experience worth having. Jacob, though he would have never stopped Renesmee from doing what she wanted, was adamantly opposed to going away to college. I was sure if she had wanted to go, he'd follow, but he had no desire to leave La Push of his own accord. Billy wasn't getting any younger, Jacob's pack was here, we were here. Forks was a safe haven for him, not only because he had never left this sheltered city, but because here he could be himself. There were people who knew all his secrets and he didn't have to pretend and try to fit in -- at least not very often. If he went away somewhere, all that would change.
"I thought we decided a college education would be a valuable thing for you," Edward said smugly. College was a priority for him, and since Jacob had always fervently refused to go, his argument seemed to be won. Jacob finally looked him in the eye, apparently pleased that he had brought this point up.
"Well, we talked about that," he said, evidently pleased with himself, "We will go to college. Both of us. We'll get married this summer and then we'll get off-campus housing for married couples wherever we get into..."
He hesitated. "Getting in" somewhere was going to be harder than he thought. Renesmee had no school records, no GPA, no birth certificate. Hell, the first questions on a college application were "Name" and "Social Security Number." Edward had waved this off during their previous discussions, stating that it would be no problem for J Jenks, our go-to forger, to create the needed documents just as he had on many previous occasions for the rest of us. Even if he did produce them in time for the coming semester, though, there was another matter that would complicate Jacob and Renesmee attending school together: Jacob had never graduated high school. And, thanks to his whole turning-into-a-werewolf thing his sophomore year, his GPA was none too grand anyhow. I knew it was only a matter of dollar amounts to buy Jacob's way into a college or forge some decent transcripts, but if Edward refused to help -- which seemed likely -- Jacob would never have the kind of money he would need. I wondered briefly if Alice and I could figure out some way to sneak him the cash. Edward glared at me and then turned back to Jacob.
"You are going to go to college?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone, "I thought you didn't want to go --"
I could see him biting back the unkind words, And how the hell would you get in?
"Well, I changed my mind. College is a good idea, and Seth said he'll keep an eye on Billy for me--"
"Seth is in on this too?" Edward growled, glaring in the direction of Charlie's house.
"Well, yeah, I've been thinking about this for a while. Renesmee is an adult now, and the only good reason you could have for us not getting married is her education, so--"
"I could think of a few more," Edward snarled under his breath. Bella put her hand on his arm.
"So anyway, we've got it all worked out. We'll go somewhere with plenty of space and wildlife for hunting, we'll live together, we'll go to school, and when we've graduated we'll decide where to go from there..." His words trailed off as he saw the downcast faces -- not only Edward's, but all of ours -- at the idea of Renesmee going away from us, returning only who-knew-when. No one liked the idea of losing our baby. She may not be my daughter, but she was the closest thing I'd ever have. She was family. She was my child, too, in a way. I didn't like the thought of only seeing her a few times a year any more than Edward did.
"So, you'd ... be ... leaving, then?" Bella asked slowly, sadly. She seemed glumly resolved to the decision they'd made.
"Over my dead body --" Edward's snarl came out low and threatening.
"We'll all go."
Everyone turned, astonished, to stare at Alice. She was smiling excitedly.
"What?" Emmett asked blankly, echoing all our thoughts.
"We'll all go to college. Together. Oh, come on," she sighed, looking at Edward, "We've been in Forks much longer than we really should have been, anyhow. Carlisle's supposed to be thirty-nine now --" she snorted, looking at the gloriously golden-haired Carlisle. In reality he had stopped aging when he was twenty-three. Thirty-nine was a joke. Rumors circulated around the hospital that Carlisle and Esme had a great plastic surgeon on retainer. Carlisle had even taken to trying to dye his hair and using make up to make himself appear to be aging. It was a pretty futile effort. It would take a lot of make up to make Carlisle appear to be less than godly to the humans... "-- and the rest of us have to stay out of town as much as possible to avoid giving ourselves away. We should have moved on years ago."
Another jumble of emotions. Jacob seemed elated again, whether because he assumed everyone would follow Alice's advice, or because he was just happy to have someone on his side, I wasn't sure. Rosalie and Emmett seemed excited, anticipating a change of scene and, for Rosalie I was sure, a new adoring class of boys to admire her. Carlisle and Esme just seemed glad things might work out. Bella felt a mixture of excitement, happiness, sadness, anxiety ... almost every feeling you could feel. Even Edward's emotions shifted from pure anger to a combination of anger, frustration, and resignation. There went his best, brightest argument; the only one that really held any logical sway.
"Maybe I can finish that Philosophy degree," I tried to sound cheery to break the tension.
"No," Edward repeated obstinately. Alice was about to speak when Bella cut in.
"Edward, stop being ridiculous!"
We all stared at her in amazement. Bella had a temper of her own, but she usually knew better than to row with Edward when he was like this, as we all did. On the other hand, though, she was the only one he would ever listen to.
"You knew this day would come eventually," she seemed to struggle over the thought herself, "We always knew Renesmee and Jacob would end up together. It is a little sooner that I thought, but we should be happy for them. And as long as they agree to go to college, I don't see why they shouldn't get married whenever they wish. Why postpone the inevitable? And as for being too young!" she snorted. We all knew what she was thinking.
"Biologically, emotionally, mentally, she's at least twenty," again, these words seemed difficult for her, but she continued quickly, "that's older than I was when you insisted we get married. That didn't turn out so badly."
She tried to smile, but Edward's anger was almost palpable. I could tell he had hoped Bella would be on his side. He felt a little betrayed.
"You know," she said softly, looking into his eyes, "I never got to go to college."
I couldn't help smiling. I hoped Emmett would contain his chortle and not ruin things. If there was one thing Edward could never refuse, it was a chance to give Bella something she wanted.
Edward glared at her, turned to look at his daughter and his future son-in-law, and turned back to his wife again, his expression grudgingly beginning to soften.
"You want to go?"
"Yes. And it would solve all the problems. No more worrying about giving ourselves away, no worrying about Renesmee off somewhere on her own -- we could all stay together."
"What about Charlie?" he asked, with little hope.
"He has Sue now. He'll be fine. And we'll come back to visit him." Bella smiled. She knew she had won; the worst was over.
"All right!" Emmett clapped his hands together loudly and stood up. "So where're we gonna go? Not Harvard, again -- those guys are so boring! They didn't do anything but study!"
I grinned broadly. Emmett and college -- if I hadn't seen it many times with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it.
"Someplace with a good baseball team," Rosalie said, "I'm sick of football. And besides, men are so much more attractive in baseball uniforms."
With a playful growl of faux jealousy Emmett swooped over and scooped Rosalie off the ground, slinging her over his shoulder.
"Baseball, huh? I think I can rustle up a uniform for you..."
And with an anticipatory laugh from each of them that we all knew -- and cringed at -- Emmett swept Rosalie out of the room and up the stairs.
"Ick," Jacob said, grimacing. He looked down at his future wife, "Promise me we'll never be like--" He stopped short as he caught the glare from all six pairs of eyes. No, no one wanted to think about Renesmee on a honeymoon.