Good gravy! I am so floored by the response this story has already gotten, thank you all for being here! Let's jump right in and see those Swans!

Reminder that this chapter is not beta'd.

Thank you to Jill for prereading!

Chapter Two

Renée Swan had picked up and set down the same vase no less than seven times. Each time, she'd moved it a fraction, frowning as the flowers shifted position. From his recliner across the living room, Charlie Swan watched his wife with a quietly raised eyebrow, critical of her obsessive nature, but unwilling to voice his thoughts, lest she turn her intense focus on him.

There was always a chore she wanted Charlie to do, and he'd do his best to pretend like he wasn't there to do them.

"Oh, I shouldn't have gone with the peonies," Renée sighed, shaking her head. "Sunflowers would have been so much more welcoming."

Charlie sipped his drink, silent.

Renée picked up the vase again, setting it on the mantel—its original home to begin with. She fluffed the flowers, then took a step back, her head tilting to the side.

She let out a sigh and stepped back toward them, shifting the vase.

"Nee, no one is going to notice your damn flowers," Charlie grumbled, unable to hold it in anymore.

Renée turned sharp eyes on him. "Charlie, we are welcoming them into our home. What they see is going to set the tone for them living with us. Of course, they will notice the flowers! These flowers are going to make this summer perfect or a disaster." Her arms were waving around her so frantically, she nearly knocked over the vase in question. "And don't you have chores to get to in the garage? Or do you expect the Cullens to park on the street like unwanted guests?"

Charlie sipped his beer to stop himself from saying they were unwanted guests.

Charlie loved his daughter, and he liked the Cullens well enough—apart from that no good horn-dog son of theirs—but Charlie had gotten used to their empty nest. He liked his quiet and solitude, and he wasn't eager to give it all up, even for a summer.

"Your flowers are off center," Charlie said, and Renée spun around, her focus immediately zeroing in. She reached out to fiddle with the vase again.

Before she could bark another order at him, the sound of a car pulling up on their driveway caught their ear.

"They're here!" Renée shrieked, so loud Charlie was sure the whole street heard her.

She rushed to the door, and Charlie took his time, taking one last long swig of his beer before he stood. He let out a burp—the last one he'd be permitted to indulge in all summer—and dropped his empty can on the kitchen counter before he met his wife out on the porch.

On the driveway, there was a flurry of activity as Garrett's Tahoe got unpacked.

"Charlie, go help them," Renée said, lightly tapping him on the chest. He grunted but made his way down the steps toward the car.

He made eye contact with Edward first, and to his gratification, the young man flushed slightly.

"Hello, Charlie," Edward said, offering his hand despite his discomfort.

Charlie grunted but took it. "Edward."

Edward opened his mouth to say more, but then Esme was coming to embrace Charlie, cutting off her son. "Oh, Charlie," she sighed, squeezing him firmly before pulling back. "Thank you so much for opening your home to us. You truly are family."

Charlie flushed, embarrassed and not sure what to say. Esme only smiled serenely at him as she floated back to the car to retrieve a suitcase.

He caught sight of Bella, pulling out a large green suitcase from the car.

"Here, Bells, let me."

He reached for the bag, grunting when it was heavier than expected.

"Thanks, Dad," Bella said, clapping him on the shoulder once before reaching for a small duffle bag. She slung it over her shoulder then turned to Charlie once more. "That bag is Edwards. Go ahead and drop it off in our room."

Every word out of his daughter's mouth made him bristle.

He hauled the suitcase upstairs, silently judging Edward for how heavy the damn thing was. When he got to the landing, Charlie turned to the room with the bunk beds and threw the suitcase through the door. The smallest relief for him came in the knowledge that Edward and Bella would not be in the same bed. They'd elected to give Esme and Carlisle the room with the full-sized mattress, which meant Charlie might be spared the horror of hearing that boy violate his daughter—again.

Charlie heard movement in the hall and then Carlisle was walking by with a bag of his own, followed by Esme. Both grinned at Charlie as they went to the room Bella was directing them towards.

Behind her, Edward was carrying another bag, looking anxiously at Charlie.

Charlie sniffed but then stepped out of the doorway to let Edward through. The boy came in and deposited the suitcase next to the lower bed. Bella appeared in the doorway, looking at her father.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, reaching to pull him into a hug. He stiffened in surprise, but then briefly wrapped his arms around his daughter.

"Right, well, I'll be downstairs," he said, pulling away and shuffling toward the stairs.

Bella watched her father retreat, amused. Likely, he didn't want to stick around to hear her say anything inappropriate.

Bella turned back to Edward who was sitting on the lower bunk.

"He really hates me," he sighed, shaking his head.

Bella shut their door and moved across the room. She climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I might have pushed him too far," she agreed. "But we have a summer to make it up with him. Then, after that, we'll be married and he'll just have to deal with it like he does with all my sister's spouses."

Edward snorted, winding his arms around Bella.

"I'm exhausted," he groaned, his eyes shutting as he leaned his head against hers.

"Let's leave unpacking for later. We can take a nap," Bella offered. Edward nodded, his eyes shut and heavy with fatigue and jet lag.

They kicked off their shoes, and despite the twin-sized bed, both curled up on the bottom bunk, Bella nearly completely on top of Edward. Within moments, they were fast asleep.

…

Bella woke before Edward. He was still sound asleep under her, but a full bladder was urging her out of bed.

Carefully, she untangled herself from his arms and slipped off the mattress. She made her way to the bathroom they were now sharing with Esme and Carlisle. She had no idea what time it was—if they'd slept a couple of hours or all night. Once she was finished up in the bathroom, Bella headed downstairs, surprised to smell lasagna.

An examination of the clock near the mantle told her she'd been asleep about two hours, not nearly as much as she'd thought.

Her mother was working in the kitchen, her father was nowhere to be seen.

Bella took a breath and made her way toward the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom."

Renée looked up at her youngest daughter and smiled. It wasn't her normal, everything-in-my-life-is-perfect smile. This one was small, almost nervous.

"Bella, did you have a nice nap?"

Bella let out a yawn. "Yeah, thanks. The travel was brutally long."

Renée hummed, turning back to the food.

"Can I help with anything?" Bella asked.

Renée glanced at her daughter over her shoulder, surprised. "If you wouldn't mind starting a salad?" she asked.

Bella nodded and made her way to the fridge to pull out some produce.

Renée had spent very little one-on-one time with her youngest. Not since the girl was a child, and even then, Renée's attention had always been divided between daughters.

Her complete lack of control over Bella had always been a point of friction for her. Renée thrived on control, and Bella thrived on denying her it.

They'd been feuding about it since the day Bella was born.

"So…"

"How…"

Both Bella and Renée stopped mid-sentence. They gave each other slightly sheepish smiles before Bella motioned for her mother to speak.

Renée took a breath.

"Oh, well, I was only wondering how your travel was getting here," Renée said, silently backing out of the question she'd actually meant to ask. But she wasn't sure if she should ask exactly how any of this new living arrangement would work. Renée had never lived with an adult daughter, least of all Bella. Adults didn't need Renée as children did, or at least, she didn't think they did. Maybe she could change their minds about it.

"It was fine," Bella said with a shrug. "Edward and I had already sold off most of our stuff to move to the States, so it wasn't like we had much to lug. We were able to focus on Esme and Carlisle and getting their things moveable. Once we managed that, the rest felt easy."

Renée looked at her, her hands stilling over the lasagna she was assembling. "Bella. Were you living abroad?"

Bella looked at her mom. "Yeah, for a few years now."

Renée opened her mouth, then shut it again, gobsmacked. How had she not known her youngest was living in a completely different country? Had Charlie known?

"Anyway," Bella said, brushing past Renée's ongoing shock. "It was all fine."

Bella pulled out a knife to slice carrots, and Renée stood there, still trying to puzzle out when exactly her daughter had so thoroughly made a life without her.

It was becoming more and more apparent that Renée in fact did not know her youngest. Bella's life had been built in secret, away from her parents, and Renée was coming to the realization that she had truly missed out on so much.

As it was, Bella was due to get married soon, and Renée believed if the Cullens hadn't hit their string of bad luck, Renée might not have even been invited to the wedding, let alone seen her daughter for any length of time.

This summer was a gift, a greater one than Renée had ever realized. She had nearly three months of uninterrupted time to get to know her youngest child, and hopefully, find a place back into her life.