A/N: Not a light-hearted chapter here. Hope you got your hankies ready. Did you cry reading it? I sure did when I wrote it! The restaurant, and the places they visit are real. My family's plots are in this particular cemetery, and The places and events mentioned are taken from my own childhood. This chapter is much more "Real Life" than the others, and it's a brief break from the hilarity. Edward learns a lot about who Bella really is, and helps her rediscover her roots.

I own nothing.

This chapter is dedicated to my Paw Paw, recently interred four plots from the ground, surrounded by my family, and joined once more with my Maw Maw. I miss you, and I love you. You're with me--always.

Edward's POV

She was holed up in her house again, in slippers and a short pink bathrobe, when I found her. She was pale, bone thin, and her cheeks more flushed than I was used to seeing. "Bella? Are you all right?" I touched her forehead, and sure enough, she was burning up. "You have a fever!"

"I know." Her eyes were glazed over as she walked back to the breakfast table, strewn with papers, her aged laptop, and books on frightening topics. She poured herself a cup of coffee, the smell of chicory flooded the house, and tickled my nose. "I haven't really slept in days, Edward. If I don't get this shit done, I won't walk in June. If I don't walk, I don't get my residency. If I don't get my residency, Emmett will lock me away, and throw away the key."

I couldn't very well have that happen. "I worried when I didn't see you in class this morning. I'm making you lunch."

"Don't bother. It's Monday; I have red beans and rice in the fridge. Enjoy yourself." She smiled at me as she buried her face into her books, and typed more on her computer.

"It's still hot!" I stuck my now roasted fingers into my mouth, but truly, the only thing wounded was my pride.

"Wouldn't you be too, if you just come off a hot stove?" I saw her lips turn up in a faint smile as she tried not to laugh. Gently, she pulled her hair into a ponytail, and padded across the kitchen. She fetched a bowl from the cabinet, and spooned rice into it, using the ladle to create a divet into the mound, and poured the beans on top. "Lemonade, Yank?"

"That depends. Is it 'Bella's Homemade Finest'?" She nodded as she pulled a glass pitcher out of the refrigerator and gently placed a glass in front of me. "Bella, you spoil me. Everything is fantastic!"

She plopped back down at the table, across from me, reorganizing her notes. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Mr. Cullen?" I couldn't help but smile, as my eye caught the shadow of the cap I'd given her, just a few weeks ago, and the gossip that had since started.

"Well, Miss Swan I came to find your brother." It was a lie—I knew he wouldn't be home, he always worked on Monday mornings.

"Oh." Was it my imagination, or did she look disappointed? "How did your Psych test go?" She barely glanced up from her notes as she asked me, but I knew I had her attention. She'd stared at the same page for ten minutes.

I made a split second decision that could cost me everything. "Get dressed, Bella. We're going out." Her soft doe eyes glanced up at me as confusion set in.

"We're going out?" She questioned, "I can't leave the house! I have all this shit to write."

I turned on the authority double quick, "The fresh air will help, Bella. It won't be long. You're sick, you need to take it easy. Besides, it'll help clear your head." She stood up from the table, but I could see she was unconvinced. Hell, I was unconvinced—if Emmett caught wind of this, he could roast my balls on a spit.

In defense of my genitalia, I called him to tell him what was happening. "Hey Em. Look, I came to find you this morning, and I found Bella, sick, instead. She's pretty bad off, and the fresh air will do her some good. You mind if I take her out for a bit?"

I heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, and somebody swearing loudly, "What? She's sick? She looked okay this morning. Shit."

"Just a fever, Emmett. I think I'll take her out to get some fresh air, and get her a light lunch. I'll bring her right back, in better condition than I left her, I promise." I could hear the wheels turning in his head, as he thought out all the ways this could possibly go wrong.

"Don't put the moves on my sister, man. I swear, I will kill you, and bury you in one of these barges. They'll never find you, Edward."

"I'll be good. Nothing to worry about." The water shut off in the bathroom, and I clicked my phone closed. She stepped out of the bathroom wearing simple jeans and a light sweater. She was towel drying her hair, and the scent of strawberries assaulted my senses. She looked lovely. "Oh good. I was going to tell you to wear a sweater. It's cool out for this time of year." She smiled at me, folding her towel, and setting it down on the kitchen counter.

"Well, Yank? I'm all yours."

If only that were true.

Her pretty pink mouth dropped, as she stared at me. "What?"

Shit! I must have said that out loud... "You ready, Charmer?"

"Yessir." As usual, it took but one word from her to throw my entire black and white existence into rainbows.

I opened the door, and she stepped onto the car port, waiting for me. I unlocked the doors to my Mercedes, and helped her inside. "Top down?" I asked her, and she nodded her ascent.

**

The highway ride to the water had been quiet. Bella had fallen asleep ten minutes in, and I took the time to skim the cream of her cheeks with my fingertips. We reached the Lake by noon, and I was just passing what was left of Joe's Crab Shack when she awoke.

"We're out by the Lake?"

"I like to come out here. I do some of my best thinking here. My parents were married by the lighthouse, you know? My father had been stationed here at the time, and they whipped together a quick ceremony before he went off to Germany." She gazed at me with questioning eyes as I parked the car, and there, across the water, was the lighthouse.

"It's a mess, Edward."

"I know. They've been trying to find the funding, and get the permits, to rebuild it. So much has been misused by politicians, that while true city landmarks have been abandoned, less necessary things have been brought to light."

She looked choked up, like she might cry. "Bella, what's wrong? Have I hurt you?"

She quickly shook her head, "No, you haven't done anything wrong, Edward. My momma took me here all the time, as a child. We used to feed the ducks every Sunday." The floodgates opened, and she started to sob. "I haven't been here since she passed. The lighthouse." She was shaking, leaning against the concrete wall for support. I took her into my arms, and she clung to me, tightly, like a second skin. "My mother loved the lighthouse; we came here sometimes, just to see it. There were so many things about this place that she loved." She sat down on the wall and motioned for me to sit beside her. I held up one finger, and opened my trunk to dig through my grocery bags. I found what I was looking for, and took my place beside her. When I handed her that yellow and blue bag of 'Bunny Bread' (A/N the most popular brand of bread in Louisiana) I thought she was going to fall in the water.

She shivered, and I took off my jacket to set over her shoulders. Opening the twist tie, she carefully pulled out a piece of bread, and tossed it into the water. There were only two ducks swimming below us, and I nodded as she commented on how the water used to be filled with them during her childhood. She regaled me with tales of ducks biting her on the back of her diaper, as she tried to run across the rocks to get to her mother. "How did your mother die, Bella?" Her eyes grew impossibly dull and lifeless.

"Pneumonia." Another slice of bread spiraled into the water, barely creating a splash, "This one's for you, momma." A tear slipped from her eye, and dropped into the waters below. I imagine she had cried many tears over her lost mother. "She was my best friend, Edward. She was erratic, careless, harebrained, and terribly immature."

"Sounds like you loved her tremendously." I rubbed soothing circles on her back as she continued.

"She married Phil when I was a sophomore, and she died of lung cancer a little over a year and a half later."

"You say that like you link the two events together. Did Phil smoke?"

"Heavily. He was depressed over the early loss of his baseball career, and he smoked like a chimney. Renée never let him smoke in the house, around me, and that pissed him off. My mother never smoked a day in her life, and she died of lung cancer at 38. Edward, it's disgusting!!" She swung her legs unsteadily over the short concrete wall and stepped onto solid ground. I followed suit, but remained seated, waiting for her to continue. I could tell she wasn't finished with me. "My mother was a good woman, but somewhere between the five years they'd been dating, and the year and a half they were married, she had a continuous state altering between bronchitis and pneumonia. I wish I knew then what I know now—I would have known it was the beginning of the end. I would have been prepared!"

"And that's what drove you to switch majors, Bella?"

She stepped down from the road, onto the limestone rocks that led to the water. I followed right on her heels, ready to catch her if she were unsteady. "She passed when I was a senior in High School, but I was in a fog for a while, so my second semester of college, I switched from Music, to Pre-Med. I focused only on my work, and I graduated in half the time, flung myself into more school, and now I'm preparing to start my residency. Maybe I can help someone else avoid all this..." She seemed at a loss for words, and she stumbled on a rock, but I quickly righted her. "All this, pain. Absolute misery. Emmett's been a damn good brother; I don't deserve him. Anyone else would have made me move, but he knows how much this place means to me. But Emmett let me stay; he let me hang onto her."

"I'd like to meet her, Bella." She looked at me oddly, but nodded.

"I'll take you to see her soon. St. Louis number three isn't a very safe cemetery to go to, so I only get to go there if someone takes me."

"I can take you now, if you'd like to go. We can go together." It's the only way I want things to be, Bella.

She was about to answer when my phone vibrated wildly in my pocket. "Hello mother." I smiled at Bella, and reassured her that I'd be but a moment. "I'm with Bella, by your lighthouse." She asked me to take a picture, and told me she'd like to book it for a Spring wedding. "Slow down there, Mom. It's not standing, well, not really." My laughter caught Bella by surprise, seeing as she could only hear my half of the conversation. "Okay, mom, I love you too." She wanted me to tell Bella to visit her in New York; she'd heard so much about her. "I'll see what I can do, Mom. You know I'd love to; we'll see. I'll talk to you later...Mom, stop it, you're embarrassing me!" My face had turned purple when she mentioned babies, and I hung up the phone before the damage could get worse.

"Is she the embarrassing type, Yank?" The mirth was back in her eyes, and I was more than happy to see it return. She'd slipped her arms into my jacket, and just seeing her wearing it caused something in my heart to stir.

"Only lately, Bella. She's really loving and easygoing, but I'm her only son. It's hard for her to stay as neutral as she needs to be. She worries a lot, having me so far from her." I placed my hand on her forehead, she still felt warm, but cooler than before. "How do you feel?"

"Tired."

"Ready to head out to lunch?" She yawned, and agreed. "Where to, Bella? Anywhere you like."

"Have you been to Camellia Grill?"

"I have not." I opened the car door for her, and helped her get settled

"Nothin' like an omelet buried under chili, a milk shake, and a slice of pecan pie." She beamed at me as I turned the key in the ignition, and pulled back onto the road.

My mother was right. One day, I'd marry that woman in front of that lighthouse, come hell or high water.

**

(A/N: The section of S. Carollton Ave that we'll be driving to actually flooded something serious, during Katrina/Rita. "The Camellia Grill" did not actually open until April 20, 2007 (a little under a year later than this point in our story). My apologies for stretching the truth, but I'm obsessed with this place, and it furthers my plot. Nyah.)

She directed me through traffic quickly, and easily. As we turned onto Carollton, it dawned on me that this place may not be open yet. Water lines were clearly visible, high above our heads, and most places were in various states of disrepair. I parked the car, switched on the alarm, and we made our way over to 626 S. Carollton Avenue, more popularly known as "The Camellia Grill".

The way she explained this place to me, I expected a fifties diner kinda place. What I saw was quite different, and gut-wrenching, all at the same time. It was a stark white building with large windows on each side. The white door had long narrow windows on each side. To the right of the door hung a pink sheet of paper--the building permit. It was the only part of the window not covered by boards. The shutters used to be green. I saw the familiar fluorescent paint level with the round wagon-wheel window that peeked out from the attic. It was dark inside, and I stepped to the side to read the plaque. It had been open since 1946, and in less than four weeks, nature put this lovely place asunder.

My Bella sat there on the stairs, and let out a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Bella. It doesn't look like it's open. Maybe we'll try back in a few months. I'll take you the day that they open; I promise." We were getting ready to walk back down the stairs when the door opened, and a dark-skinned man stepped out.

Bella turned around and looked up at him, her swollen eyes pleading, "Harry?"

"Miss Bella? Is that you? Well, I haven't seen you since your momma passed. What's the matter, Child?" He sat down on her other side, taking her hands in his.

"It's just. Every place that we used to go together is destroyed. Harry, it's awful!" His dark brown eyes rested on me for just a moment, before he extended his hand.

"My name is Harry. I work here at the grill."

"I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."

"Doctor Cullen's boy?" His face lit up with recognition.

"You know my father?"

"He treated my father after he had a heart attack. I'm certain that he would've died that day if anyone else had taken care of him. He's gone with God now, but your father gave him three more months; enough time for him to meet his grandchild. Your father was a blessing to this place, in the aftermath."

His gaze went from Bella, to me, "How do you know him, Miss Bella."

"We both go to LSU."

"Your momma sure would be proud of you, young lady."

"How did you guys make out, Harry. Place looks pretty beat up."

"Ooh bite your tongue. You can't kill bad grass, young lady. The water damage was bad, but a lot of our cooking equipment was so old that the water didn't ruin it completely. The worst of the damage was from those damn looters. Whatever we had left was stolen from right under our noses. We had the building so heavily insured though, that we'll have a brand new building, plus enough extra to open up another branch—maybe even in Baton Rouge, just so I can be close to you." He tapped her on her nose, and she smiled.

"Your wife had a baby?" She smiled at him as he stood and pulled his wallet out.

"Ain't no baby no more." He proudly pulled out pictures of an infant, and Bella told him how beautiful she was.

"So I guess you guys aren't open yet?" She looked like she might cry.

"Ooh no, it's still a mess in there. We were just pulling out salvageable things before we gut the inside. Would you like to give your Edward a peek inside?"

Harry watched her eyes light up, and instantly caved. "Right this way, folks. Special tour for Miss Bella, and her Edward." Harry winked at me, he was very perceptive, this man. "Here, put these on. The mold is pretty intense." Opening the door for us, he let us enter inside first. "The floor is a little slippery folks, be careful."

I looked down at the antiquated black and white tile floor beneath me; it was the same as every other floor I'd walked on, since my first trip here. Moldy, dirty, muddy, and a testament to the tragedy that blew through this city not long before. Piles and piles of dishes were laid down on a semi swept corner close to the front of the building. A few other men were digging through cabinets, saving what they could, and putting what was beyond repair in a heap in another corner of the place. The stainless steel barstools were rusted, their formerly red cushions now brown with filth. What used to be the grill now held a heap of ruined menus and napkin holders.

Bella fought back a sob when she walked up to a booth with red vinyl cushions near the side windows, closest to the bar. "Miss Bella, don't cry now. Your momma wouldn't want you to cry. She loved this place as much as you did."

"This was our table, Edward." She tentatively reached out, but didn't touch the surface.

"As soon as it reopens, I promise you, we'll eat here. Opening night; this booth. It's a date, Bella. Right?" I touched her mask laden face, hoping for an affirmation. She nodded, and I smiled.

"We'll reopen in April. You write down your address, and I'll send you an invitation, and you'll get to eat here early. Special, just for you, Miss Bella."

She wrote her address down on an industrial paper towel, and Harry tucked it into his pocket "We don't want to keep you too much longer, Harry."

"Now, young lady, you know I can't let you walk out this door hungry. I'll be right back." He reappeared with two sandwiches, neatly wrapped in butcher paper. "Don't be a stranger, Miss Bella. We miss you. See you in April?" She nodded, and he turned to me with his hand extended.

"It was good to meet you, Mr. Edward. Y'all come back now."

"We will. I've rehabbed buildings before, Harry. This place means a lot to her, and therefore, means a lot to me. If you need help, you'll call me?"

He gave me a hug, "Oh, yes, young sir. I sure will. You take good care of my Bella. You hear? She's really something else."

"I will, as long as she'll have me." He softly closed the door behind us, and Bella clutched on to me. I held her; what else could I do? I was hopelessly in love with a girl that I couldn't have.

"Crying is good, honey. You get it all out, okay? You'll feel better after." I slowly led her to the car, searching for the spray paint on each building, trying to get a story from each place. "Where to now?"

She blew her nose on a tissue, "Would you mind if we went to see my mother? I think I need to get this all out in one shot."

"I have nowhere else that I'd rather be, but Bella, do you think it's such a good idea to upset yourself so much, on a day when you're ill to start?" She nodded her head, and wiped her eyes. I pushed the box of kleenex closer to her.

"You're right, but I think I need to see her. I haven't been to her in months. I have nothing to give her; I'm so ashamed." She directed me to where we needed to be. The light was beginning to wane; I knew we couldn't stay long. These places were not safe after nightfall.

There was a heaviness that hung in the air as we pulled into the gates. Some of these tombs dated back to the mid 1800's. She directed me to drive as far back as I could. I pulled the car to the side, pulled a bat out of the trunk, armed the alarm, and followed her at a quick pace, to the inside of a building. Once inside, you could smell the mold, but thankfully, not decay. The waterline was two and a half graves high. Renee Dwyer was interred in a wall mausoleum. She took a left, and a quick right, and walked nearly to the edge of the hall. I looked four rows up, and I saw her. There was her plot. "Renee Swan-Dwyer: Beloved wife and mother"

"Hi mom." She reached her hand up, as if to touch the grave that was far too high to reach. "I brought my friend Edward. He said he wanted to meet you, and I know I can't come by myself. I can't stay long." A sob broke through her chest, and my heart broke for her. "But I wanted to see you; I had to see you. Momma, I miss you so much. I wish you knew!" She touched her fingers to her lips, and blew a kiss in her mother's direction. "Harry's wife had a baby. His dad died; I just found out today. Did you two find each other up there? How's Gramma and Grampa Swan? What about Maw Maw and Paw Paw? Tell everybody I said hi?" She leaned against the wall of tombs, and continued, "Emmett is still welding; he'll graduate some time next year, God-willing, with all ten fingers. I'll be a Resident somewhere, too. I don't know where yet, but I guess you'll know before I do." I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, while trying not to intrude on so personal a moment.

"I never got to tell you that I love you mom. I'm sorry we fought; I didn't realize how sick you were. If I had known..." Another sob tore through her, nearly causing her to buckle to the ground, "If I had known that you'd die that day, I never would've fought with you. We all thought the bronchitis was back. We never would have thought—oh why didn't you go to the hospital?" She pounded her fist on her thigh in frustration. "If I had known, I would have done everything differently, mom! I would've called you more. I would've been nicer to Phil. God, Phil. I haven't seen him since the day we buried you." She shuffled her feet, and studied the ground, defeat evident in her expression. "It's getting dark, mom. We need to go."

She reached up to the grave again, and I tell you, it was the strangest thing; as she reached up, a strong draft blew through the building, making a whispering sound. I love you. Her mahogany hair shifted in the breeze, a breeze that should not blow in the part of the building that we were in.

Remembering that moment will send chills down my spine until the day that I take my last breath.

"Good-bye, Mom." She said, as we pulled out of the cemetery gates.

"We'll see her soon, Bella. I'll take you back as often as you like. It's my promise to you." I took her hand in mine, and kissed her fingers.

I love her too, Renee. I love her too. Soften Emmett up for me, will you?

Review if you want Sweetward to sweep Bella off her feet. Review if you want Emmett to stop being an overprotective ass, and let Edward and Bella be together. If you don't, I'll have her run off with Harry and become a voodoo priestess. (LOL)