Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N1: So... this chapter is a little (maybe a lot) later then my promised update schedule. Um... sorry? In my defense, I really thought the world was going to end on the twenty first, so I didn't bother working on a new chapter. What? You saw that I posted THREE new chapters on my other story? Well.. I... You see.. HEY! LOOK OVER THERE!

*Runs away*

Bella, not used to people being at her door period, was completely floored at the sight, falling quiet as she gaped at the figure long enough for the silence to become vaguely uncomfortable.

"Mom?" She repeated, stupidly.

"He left me," she sobbed.

"What?" Bella was a little unbalanced thanks to the last few days and her brain just wasn't making the proper connections as to who exactly he was.

"Phil left me!" She wailed.

Bella cringed. As polite as her neighbors appeared on the few random times their paths crossed in the hallways, they probably wouldn't appreciate someone screaming hysterically outside her door at; she checked the clock on her wall and her eyes widened, one in the morning.

Ushering her mother through the door, she leaned down to grab the hastily packed bag (made obvious by the clothes sticking out between the unzippered halves) that was crookedly propped up against the door jamb.

Leading her mother to the couch, Bella placed the bag behind it and encouraged her to shrug off her soaking wet jacket. It had only started raining a few minutes ago, but her mother was drenched enough to make Bella seriously wonder if she had walked here.

"How did you get here?" Bella asked, giving the jacket a quick shake and draping it over the scarred coffee table.

"Drove," she muttered.

"In this condition? Mom, you could have driven off the road." Bella was hard torn between anger that her mother had even chanced it and relief that nothing had happened. "Why didn't you just call me?"

"I didn't want to stay in that house with him for a second longer."

Bella felt her anger melt away when she began crying again. Pulling down the small blanket over the back of the couch, she wrapped it around her mother's shivering shoulders.

"Here, Mom. Try to warm up. I'll make you some tea."

Bella walked around the half-wall that divided the kitchen from her living room, her thoughts in turmoil. The tables had been turned. Instead of seeking out her mother for comfort, she was now the comfortee. She worried that she wasn't going to be in the right state of mind for that.

Reaching up into the cupboard, she pulled down a plain black mug and set it to the side of her small stove. Grabbing the small teapot beside it, she filled it with water from the tap and flicked on the burner as she sat it down. Fumbling slightly with the package of green tea she had bought specifically for her mother's visits (thought she hadn't expected her this soon... or for this reason) she withdrew a single bag and set it in the mug.

She could hear her mother sniffling in the living room and turned away from the sight of her slumped form to focus on the kettle instead. What would she say? She had been so certain that her and Phil had been happy together. Not necessarily madly in love, but content at least. Even during the last call to her mother two days ago, there hadn't been the slightest indication that things were wrong between them.

Though it had taken Bella a while to warm up to him, for the most part, she had genuinely liked Phil. Even though he had been the polar opposite of her dad Charlie, who had been a stoic man with a rather wry sense of humor, she had figured that's why he had gotten along with Renee so well. They were both cheerful, care-free people who had a tendency to live in the moment (though Renee's fun-loving attitude had been admittedly dampened by her husband's death).

Sure, Phil had been a little distant and occasionally uncomfortable around her, but she imagined any man coming into a relationship that included a teen daughter in the package would be a little intimidated. She had never really let it bother her because he made her mom so happy. Or at least she thought he did.

The whistling kettle broke her out of her thoughts and she shut the burner off and poured the steaming hot water into the mug. Securing it firmly in her hands, she carefully maneuvered her way back to the couch, pressing the mug into her mother's hands and waiting until she wrapped her lax fingers around it.

"He left me," her mother repeated dully. Her tears had dried up and she was now staring blankly at the wall.

Bella took a place beside her and gently asked, "What happened?"

"He said he met some else. That," her voice hitched, "it's been going on for a while. He said he didn't mean to hurt me, it just happened," she mocked before laughing bitterly.

"I deserved it," she decided after a moments silence.

"How could you even say that, Mom?!"

"I betrayed your father's memory. It was too soon... I- I wasn't really over him."

"Why... why did you date Phil then?" Bella asked hesitantly.

"I felt like it was something I should at least try. I knew me being sad was making you sad, sweetheart."

"Mom..." Bella trailed off guiltily. Yes, she had wished that her mother's pain would eventually lessen, but she had never intended to force her into anything.

Her mother seemed to sense it and placed down her untouched mug before turning towards her. Clasping her hands,she insisted, "Don't even think that for a second, Bell. I never doubted you wanted the best for me. You didn't make me date Phil, I chose to take that step. I thought I was ready." She shuddered. "But maybe I really wasn't."

She raised almost child-like eyes to Bella. "This is my fault, isn't it? I'm the one that insisted we take it slow. I tried so hard to," she began blinking rapidly, "move on and I think he sensed that I was holding back." The dam broke and tears streamed down her cheeks. "But I couldn't move on. I miss my Charlie so much, Bell!" She collapsed into her arms and Bella pulled her into a fierce hug.

Her sobs vibrated Bella's frame and she could feel the tears gather in her own eyes.

Distantly, she wondered if she would ever find a love as strong as the one her parents had shared. Though they had married young and had what most people would consider conflicting personalities, they had truly led proof to the adage that 'opposites attract'. To be honest, as Bella got older and failed to find anything particularly appealing in the boys her age, she had been slightly jealous of the bond her parents shared. She was sure that the male population that she associated with on a regular basis had considered her snobby, and even though it had been hell on her social life, she had just decided early on that she wouldn't settle for anything less then a similar connection.

The hand that had been running through her mother's tangled hair stopped as she flashed back to that night and recalled the knot that had both tightened and loosened within her when she met the man's strangely familiar ochre eyes.

And for the hundredth time since that night, she wondered if that had been the connection she was waiting for.

-oo-

"The hot water will do you good," Bella urged as she gently pushed her mother into the steamy bathroom. It had been a bit of a struggle in the beginning, but when her eyelids had started drooping, Bella had been finally able to entice her mother off of the couch.

Pulling the door shut, she pressed her ear up against the wood, waiting until she heard the rustle of clothing being removed. She returned to the living room and grabbed her mother's bag. Sitting it down on her bedroom floor (it was still to damp to put on her bed) she undid the sloppily buckled strap that held it together and frowned as she dug through its contents. As she eyed the mismatched clothing, five shirts, including one ridiculously dressy one, one pair of pants (a pair she knew for a fact that her mother hadn't worn in years), two pairs of ratty underwear and one sock, she knew that her mother's decision to come here was definitely a last minute one.

Moving over to her dresser, Bella began digging through the top drawer, searching for the warmest set of pajamas she owned. Considering the temperature was still pleasantly mild around these parts, most of her nightwear was comprised of t-shirts and shorts. Thankfully long sleeved shirts were pretty much the staple of her wardrobe, no matter what the weather, so she pulled out one of them and added a pair of loose yoga pants. It was a good thing her and her mother were roughly the same size.

Knocking lightly on the bathroom door, she cracked it open and peeked her head in when she failed to get a response.

"You okay, Mom?" She asked softly.

"I'll be out in a minute," she replied tonelessly.

Entering the room, she set the clothes on the sink. "I have some PJ's for you," she said, leaning over to the small set of drawers that held her towels and pulling one out to place on top of them. She reached up into the medicine cabinet and grabbed the spare toothbrush that she always kept handy. "And a toothbrush."

"Mmhmm." Her mother hummed from behind the curtain.

Bella shuffled out of the bathroom and quickly changed into her own pajamas as she heard the water cut off. She turned down the sheets on the bed, after adding an extra blanket from her closet, then grabbed a second set and made her way back into the living room.

"What are you doing?" Bella jumped when her mother's hoarse voice spoke behind her.

"Making up the couch," she replied as she placed the last blanket down. "You can have the bed."

"It's a double, Bell."

"I know, but-"

"No buts." Bella grinned down at the couch. She was using her 'mom voice.' "I'm not making you sleep on the couch. We'll share."

Bella turned with a sad smile. It was something they had done often the first week after her father had died and it was no surprise she was seeking that same comfort.

"We share," Bella agreed.

Curled up under the blankets, Bella entwined her fingers with her mother's. "Tell me again how you and dad first met?" She asked softly. Despite having heard the story a hundred times, seeing the tears dry up and the nostalgic smile spread across her mother's moonlit face, made it worth hearing again.

-oo-

"Are you sure that it's alright that I stay?"

"It's fine, Mom," Bella assured her for the second day in a row.

She had sensed her mother's reluctance to return home, even after a teary phone call from Phil begging her to come back so they could talk (if anything, that made her even less eager) and hadn't hesitated to offer up her space for the time being. Her mother worked primarily out of her home (Bella wasn't the only one with artistic skill in the family, her mother was quite a talented sculptor) and, according to her, all the bills were paid up, so it wasn't like she had any pressing need to return any time soon.

Though her mood was still melancholic, her mother had managed to fall into the playful banter of 'why men suck' over a pint of Ben and Jerry's when Bella had gotten home from class that day.

"Are you dating anyone yet?" She asked as she spooned a small serving of the chocolatey goodness into her mouth.

"If I was, don't you think you'd know already?" Though Bella's tone was playfully sarcastic, she once again flashed back to that night thanks to her mother's next question.

"Well have you met someone at least?"

I don't know. "No."

"Don't let my terrible experience deter you in any way, Bell. There is someone out there for you."

And did I already meet him? Bella wondered.

It was on the tip of her tongue to bring up everything, but she found herself hesitating again. As she struggled with the issue, she realized there was something she could ask, something that, thanks to spending the last few days either in a haze or comforting her mother, she hadn't thought to research yet.

"Mom, do you remember Gram's garden?"

She lowered her spoon. "Do I remember my own mother's garden? What kind of question is that?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "Do you... you wouldn't happen to know anything about flowers would you?"

"Why? Are you interested in planting some? I don't really see how that's possible. I mean, maybe you can talk to the super about putting a little garden on the roof. Or maybe a potted-"

"No, not that. You wouldn't happen to know what they mean, would you?"

"Oh, you mean floriography."

"What?"

"The language of flowers. Mom used to have a book on it. It was actually really fascinating. It told you what every flower meant, and how the meanings could change with a color or a certain arrangement. I wonder what happened to that book." She trailed off with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Mom," Bella cut in exasperated. She knew her mother all to well, if she let her get too far off track, she'd never get back on.

She shook her head. "Right. You were saying?"

"What do Primroses mean? I remember Gram used to plant them every year."

"Ah, yes. She planted those in memory of your grandfather, did you know that? I tried to plant them after Charlie died, but apparently my thumb hasn't gotten any less black over the years."

Bella was starting to get anxious. "What do they mean?" she repeated.

"I can't live without you, or basically I am yours forever." She fixed Bella with a curious stare. "Why are you asking anyways?"

"No reason," Bella stuttered. "Um, you still want to go to the movies tonight?" There was some faculty thing scheduled for tomorrow and all classes had been cancelled for the day. Knowing that she wouldn't have to get up the next morning, Bella thought this was an excellent time to take her mother out for a night on the town.

Her mother nodded slowly obviously a bit dumbfounded at the sudden subject change.

"Well, I'm gonna take a quick shower before we go."

Walking as quickly to the bathroom as she could without looking like she was running, Bella closed the door behind her. Turning the tap to as close to hot she could get without scalding her skin, she pulled it out slightly and the shower head sprung to life. Pulling the curtain shut, she walked over to the mirror and spanned her hands on each side of the sink as she turned over what her mother had just told her.

She thinks she finally understands part of what her dream is trying to tell her.

If I combine the two items in my hand, the rock and the flower it means- She paused and, as the steam began swirling around her, looked up at her reflection.

"I'm yours forever... Jasper," she whispered.

A/N2: Shhh... do you hear that? That's the sound of another puzzle piece clicking into place. ;)

P.S: For any of you that happen to read Freaky Twiday, I apologize for the lack of updates, but I got nothing, zilch, nada. I'm sorta of a 'it happens' writer, meaning I don't (or better yet, I can't) toil away days on a chapter, I literally have a BAM moment, and write it all down in the space of a few hours. So without the 'bam' I can't write it. I suppose I could force it, but then you'd just end up with a terrible mess. So I rather you get nothing then something that probably wouldn't even be considered sub-par. It's unfortunately the same way it works with this story as well, and I truly am sorry. Hope you understand!