April 18, 2011
I knock on Edward's door, my hands in my jacket pocket. I haven't talked to him since that incident. But I will now. I hear the music stop from incised, and his footsteps reverberate inside the room. He pulls the door open a second later.
"Hey," he says, his crooked smile growing.
"Hey," I say, stepping in as he moves aside. He shuts the door. "I'm really sorry about what happened."
"It's not your fault, Bella," he says, shaking his head, the smile dropping. "It was just something I said, that quite obviously triggered something that was sensitive to you."
"But-"
"No, no 'buts,'" he says. "Don't worry about it. It's okay with me. But are you okay?"
I nod, pressing my lips into a thin line. His face is sympathetic. He wraps his arms around me, and I smile softly, bringing my arms back around him. He kisses my forehead.
"You never read the book," he says. But when he goes to get it, he pauses, looking back at me. "But, it might not be best to read it right now."
"Why?" I ask.
"I started it before I found out about what happened, before I even met you, okay? I had finished reading about that girl they found in the gutter, who had been abused before she died, and I had thought, 'Hey, I could make a book out of that.' So I did. And then I met you, and I started seeing the bruises, and I found out what he did, and it fueled the book," he explains. "But it's not about you. It's about a teenage boy, instead. There's no rape, I promise. Just a lot of physical abuse. Do you want to read it still?"
I don't answer right away. "I'm not sure."
He nods. "It's cool. I understand."
We stand in our separate places for a moment. Then I grin. "Let's paint. With our feet."
He laughs out right, and kisses my cheek after walking over. "Sounds fun."
We walk back to my room, hand-in-hand, and I feel like a weight has been removed from my shoulders. I feel so much better, knowing he's not mad at me. Once in my room, I gather up paints we can use, and Edward grabs one giant canvas to carry.
"Let's go outside," I say, looking out the window. "It's actually pretty today."
"Sure," he says.
We go downstairs, Edward trying to look around the long, rectangular canvas. Alice and Jasper look at us, then each other.
"What the hell?" Emmett asks.
"We're gonna paint with our feet outside," I say simply. "Wanna paint, too?"
"Yes!" Jasper and Emmett shout.
"Does the paint come off easily?" asks Rose.
Emmett rolls his eyes. "Come on, babe, it'll be fun. Family time!"
Esme sticks her head out from the kitchen. "What are you doing?"
I explain it to her, and ask her for some paper plates I can put the paint on. She grabs them.
"How about you wait until Carlisle's home, and we can all paint together?" she suggests.
"Sure," I say.
"So can I put this down?" Edward asks.
We burst out laughing.
When Carlisle got home, we had everything under the canopy out on the deck. The canvas was sitting on a large sheet of plastic, and the paints and paper plates were sitting in front of it.
"The kids have something they want to do," says Esme, kissing his cheek.
"What would that be?" he asks, looking at us from his hug with Esme.
"We're gonna paint," says Alice.
"With our toes!" shouts Emmett, laughing again.
"Interesting," Carlisle says slowly, stretching the syllables. "How about I change first and then we can?"
"Okay," I say.
Once he's back, we go outside, and I squirt the paint onto the plates. We all sit down and pull off our socks and shoes. A stench reaches my nose, along with everyone else's.
"Does anyone have something we can wrap Em's feet in?" Rosalie asks while coughing and holding a hand over her nose.
"Hey, they do not stink that badly," says Emmett. He glares and pouts. "At least I haven't run today. Then my feet would stink."
"Oh, God," she says.
Esme gets up and comes back with air freshener. She sprays the air and then drenches Emmett's feet in it.
"Well then," he says.
"Thanks, Esme," says Alice.
We wash off our feet so as not to get dirt or anything else on the canvas. Then we all begin painting. We dip our toes into the paint and shakily run them over the white canvas, spreading lines of blue, red, purple, green, gold, turquoise and the other paints I poured out.
August 25, 2011
Nothing of interest has really happened these last few months. I finally decided on names for my children, and Edward and I still going steady.
Emmett and I are the only ones home right now, as Edward, Alice, Jasper, and Rose are off shopping again. I know it's for me, but I really don't like it. Esme's out doing grocery shopping, and Carlisle's at work.
I'd been having a backache all day and there was this slight, dull ache somewhere inside my body, but I couldn't really put my finger on what it was. But now, it's slightly worse. Like, a wave is going through my body, heightening and staying like that for a while and then letting loose.
They've been getting worse, and I think it'd be best if I tell Emmett. As I get up from the couch to go hobble to the kitchen to tell him, one a thousand times worse sweeps through my body. I clench at my stomach, and scream, my face screwing up against the pain.
"Shit!" I shout, and Emmett comes charging into the room, holding a spatula with grease and cheese on it from the cheeseburgers he was making. "Shit!"
"What's wrong, Bella, what's going on?" he asks, panicking.
"Ow, fuck," I hiss, trying to breath calmly. The pain subsides a little bit, and I sit back down, breathing deeply through my mouth. Something clicks in my head. "Emmett, don't panic. That's not gonna help."
"What are you talking about?" he asks, swallowing hard and putting the spatula on a clump of tissues.
"I believe – OW! – that I've gone into – aw, BASTARD! – labor," I pant as another contraction rips through my abdomen and back.
"Oh my, GOD!" he shouts. "What the hell do I do? What do I do?"
"I told you not to panic," I say through clenched teeth, gripping my stomach. My knuckles are white and my hands claws. The tendons on the back of my hands are sticking out. "Motherfucker. Emmett – hospital – now."
"Good Lord,' he says, and picks me up, moving through the house to get to his jeep.
While he's doing this, my body's morphed into this shell of . . . pain. I can't find the words to describe what's going through me. This is worse than most of the days I had spent with Charlie, even over Christmas break.
"Move faster!" I shout as the contractions break for a minute.
He opens the garage door and places me gently on eh passenger seat. I fumble with the seat belt while biting into my lower lip. I taste something metallic and realize I've punctured my lip with my teeth.
Emmett backs out of the garage and turns around like a professional racecar driver and then floors it to get to the hospital.
Seven and a half hours later, and the labor is finally over. I've got a son and a daughter, and a body pumped with painkillers. Carlisle and Emmett were with me during the whole thing as Esme called the others to get their butts home and wait at the hospital.
Carlisle cut the umbilical cord, and now that they've been cleaned, I'm holding my kids. They had cried like normal children, but they've stopped.
"Ow," I say weakly.
Carlisle chuckles and kissed the top of my head.
"You did good," he says.
The other doctor approaches. "What are you naming them, Miss Swan?" he asks.
"The girl, um, Skye," I say, looking down at her. "With an 'e' at the end, please. And the boy, I want to name him Alex. Yeah."
"Skye's a pretty name," he says, filling in the birth certificates. "What's the name for the father?"
"Uh," I say, looking at Carlisle for help.
"Who's name do you want to put down?" he asks.
"Can I put Edward's?" I ask.
"Go ahead," he says and nods to the doctor. "Edward Cullen."
The doctor nods, and he goes to complete the paperwork. The nurse allows the rest of my family in, and Edward kisses me fully.
"When I heard you were in the hospital, I didn't think it was labor," he says.
"I'm okay," I say. "Sorta. I just really hurt."
He hugs me, and then Alice shoves him away.
"Stop hogging the babies, Edward," she says. "Oh my, God, they're so cute!" She looks at Jasper over her shoulder. "I want children."
"Whoa, not until you can take care of yourselves," says Carlisle.
"Aw," complains Alice.
Okay, you have to be nice about the contractions. That was one of the hardest things I've ever written. And I researched that for a good two hours. So be nice. Also, yes, Jackson was winning in the poll for boy's names, BUT I liked Alex more. And doesn't Jackson sound a lot like Jasper? Just saying . . .
Also, there won't be a description of the children for a little while. Just saying. Um, there's probably only going to be one more chapter, and then a sequel. Whooo!
Okay, review, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
-xXRayneXx