Edward
"Welcome home, you two," Carlisle greeted us with a smile as he folded up his newspaper and set it down on the table in front of him. Esme, who was standing behind the kitchen island arranging some fresh, fall-themed flowers in a tall, crystal vase set down the sunflower she was holding to walk over and give Bella a tight squeeze. Carlisle's smile turned sympathetic as his warm, golden gaze fell upon my wife. "Bella, how are you holding up, my dear?"
Bella chirped "Terrific!" without a hint of sarcasm as Esme hugged me next and then went back to her flowers. "Glad to be back. I hope Renesmee wasn't any trouble," Bella added in a questioning tone.
Carlisle's thoughts were carefully controlled as he answered, "A perfect angel, as always," with a very convincing smile. Son, might I have a word with you in private once you're all settled in?
I nodded almost imperceptibly, feeling a sense of dread wash over me at the pressing tone of Carlisle's thoughts. I had no doubt it had to do with Renesmee. And whatever it was, it was serious enough that he wanted to speak to me alone rather than risk upsetting my grieving wife.
Lovely.
"I'm surprised she's here and not out with Jake or Nahuel," Bella mused, hearing the rhythmic, rapid-fire thumping of Renesmee's heartbeat–her normal heart rate–coming from the floor below. That was where Carlisle had assembled a home lab so that he could mentor his granddaughter who shared his love of science and medicine.
Carlisle's face smoothed into his doctor's poker face. Glancing at me, he mentally, Yes…That's what I wanted to talk to you about.
Meanwhile, in the conversation that was occurring out loud, Esme pleasantly responded to Bella's remark, "Nahuel is spending some time with Alice and Jasper. As you know, Nahuel practically worships Alice after she found him deep in the middle of the jungle and somehow convinced him and his aunt to travel across the world to save a child–a family–who changed everything for him."
"Alice has that effect on people," Bella nodded in understanding.
As the women conversed, I listened for Renesmee's thoughts, hoping that they would give me some clue, but the only thing on Renesmee's mind was the microscopic view of what looked like a viral infection. Her thoughts were a little disjointed but still distinguishable as she studied the slide, making mental notes.
Herpes simplex viruses are promising vectors…have a carrying capacity of over 30 kb and provide long-term expression…
I snapped out of Renesmee's head like I'd been forcefully ejected. Herpes, I thought to myself, aghast. Rationally, I knew there were a million reasons why my daughter, a pre-med undergrad student attending courses online, would be studying a herpes virus with an almost obsessive level of fascination.
Nevertheless, as the father to a teenage (equivalent) young lady who was only just now delving into the terrifying world of dating and…ugh…sex, I had reason to be suspicious. And while her hybrid biology had proven to be immune to any illness she'd ever been exposed to thus far, Bella's pregnancy and Renesmee's very existence had taught me that nothing was impossible.
Bella and I lingered for a few more minutes, chatting with my parents, though I was admittedly distracted. Esme was burning with curiosity about our trip to Florida and our interactions with Bella's family–details for which Bella helpfully provided, along with her profuse gratitude for Esme sending the lovely flower arrangements to Renee's funeral.
Meanwhile, as my parents hung on to Bella's every word, I sat right next to her, holding her hand, barely cognizant of the conversation happening right in front of me because I was burning with my own curiosity over my daughter's newfound fixation with, of all things, the herpes virus.
Again, I knew there was a better explanation than that she'd contracted the irksome virus. But still, if she had, it wouldn't even make the top ten list of most bizarre things to have happened in Renesmee's short life. I sighed impatiently, frustrated with myself more than anything, a gesture that Bella and my parents misinterpreted by cutting their conversation short. But it was just as well.
I needed to get my wife home and soaking in a hot bubble bath so that I could disappear for a few minutes, just long enough for Carlisle to tell me what the hell was going on.
Once the conversation with my parents wrapped up, Bella and I went downstairs to poke our heads inside the lab to let Renesmee know that we were home. Though this wouldn't be news to her because she had undoubtedly heard every word of our upstairs conversation…at least the part of the conversation that had been spoken out loud.
That was one rather considerable drawback of having a child with supernaturally strong senses–there wasn't much we were able to keep from her, even if we wanted to. It wasn't as if we had years of her childhood to spell out the words we didn't want her to hear; she could read chapter books by the time she was three months old.
Renesmee seemed happy to see us, though she was distracted by whatever she was studying under the microscope. She didn't offer much of an explanation for the deviation in her recent behavior. But then again, before the men in her life drove her to distraction, Renesmee spent most of her time immersed in the lab, either doing school work or studying independently with Carlisle who had made her into his little protégé.
Needless to say, coming home to find our daughter consumed with science, her first love, was quite a welcome sight after the emotionally draining time we'd spent in Florida. Though I was still leery of the impending conversation with Carlisle that I knew was coming.
Maybe it wasn't that Renesmee had contracted the disease, but having her study the insidious virus was Carlisle's version of sex education? I could see him doing something like that, but only if he caught her engaging in risky behavior.
My mouth ran dry. Heaven help me but I wasn't ready to have a sexually active daughter. I probably never would be. What father ever was? But sakes alive, she was just a girl! I owned pants that were older than she was and I was just supposed to trust that she wasn't acting recklessly? I would just have to have that panic attack later. For now, we left Renesmee to her analysis and went back to our cottage to settle in for the evening.
It didn't take much convincing to talk Bella into taking a nice hot bath after the long day of travel. Once Bella was up to her chin in bubbles, resting her head on the side of the tub with her eyes peacefully closed, I quietly turned to excuse myself from the bathroom. Just as I was slipping through the door, her completely unconcerned voice echoed lightly across the small tile room, "You'll let me know what Carlisle wants to talk to you about when you get back?"
Halfway out the door, I lurched to a stop, mid-step. I could feel her eyes on my back. Without turning to look at her, I smiled a little when I answered, "Of course, love." Nothing got past my Bella, I chuckled to myself.
I couldn't resist sneaking a peek at her then. She looked utterly at peace. And with her head leaned back against the white porcelain tub, her chin jutted out and the pale skin of her long, graceful throat exposed, she looked as beautiful and as timeless as an angel painted by Botticelli.
Then, in a voice meant to reassure, I told her, "You know Carlisle's not trying to keep anything from you. He just doesn't want to stress you out when—"
"I know," Bella cut me off in a neutral-sounding voice. "But I still want to know."
"Then you shall," I promised with put-on formality, one corner of my mouth curling up into a teasing, crooked smile as I pulled the door shut behind me.
No sooner did I make it outside did I see the headlights of Carlisle's blacked-out Model S creeping down the front drive. I dashed over to meet him, slipping into the passenger seat. Once inside the car, with the sleeve of my dark gray hoodie I dried the light sheen of moisture from my face caused by a light drizzle that was starting to pick up in intensity.
"Thanks for taking the time to meet me, son," Carlisle greeted warmly as he turned the car onto the main road. "Sorry to pull you away from Bella," he added with an apologetic smile. "And for all the secrecy. I just know Bella's been through a lot recently and I didn't want to pile on unnecessarily."
"No apologies necessary, Carlisle. I assumed it was something like that, and I appreciate it. Happy wife, happy life, right?"
"Words to live by," my father grinned. "Anyway, I'll get right to it."
I groaned anxiously and replied, "Enlighten me, please. Why is Renesmee fixated on herpes viruses?"
Carlisle frowned with confusion, mouthing the words 'herpes viruses?' like he didn't have any idea what I was talking about. Then his face brightened with understanding and he barked out in laughter.
"You thought—" and then he busted up laughing all over again. "No, no dear boy. I didn't bring you out here to tell you anything like that, thank goodness. No, she doesn't have a disease, she's trying to cure one...in a manner of speaking."
"She's trying to cure herpes?" I asked, my own face creased with confusion.
"She's trying to cure shapeshifters, actually. She came to me yesterday with all kinds of questions about gene therapy and genome editing. She wants to genetically modify a virus– the herpes virus, as it makes the most effective vector– to create a vaccine of sorts that would keep Quileute children from changing into wolves in the presence of vampires."
"She what? Why?" I demanded, eyes bulging with horror and disbelief at the can of worms my daughter was opening. Scrubbing my hands over my face I moaned, "Does she want to start a war? This is madness. Why didn't you talk her out of it?"
Carlisle placed a consoling hand on my shoulder, "I addressed my concerns about how the Quileutes would very likely feel threatened by the existence of such an inoculation. How, in the wrong hands, it could easily be weaponized to wipe out our only known enemy. My concerns fell on deaf ears.
"She thinks she's helping," he smiled weakly. "She hates that Jacob is forced to stay away from his tribe because of the current treaty rules. It sounds like Jacob told her that the primary reason why they won't let her cross the treaty line is because of the tribe's wishes to control the size of the wolf pack."
"So she's trying to find another way to control it," I surmised with sudden comprehension.
"In a nutshell, yes. Apparently, the last time she visited Charlie in Forks, she overheard Sue telling him about how many of the Quileute mothers are afraid of the wolf gene being triggered because it means they lose their young sons (and occasionally daughters) to life with the pack. She thinks this vaccine–she called it 'wolf control'," he chuckled, "would be wanted by many of the Quileutes to spare their children from being forced from their homes while they transition."
My face softened when Renesmee's intentions started to become more clear. "Well, at least she's not trying to commit cultural genocide," I sighed and my tense shoulders relaxed somewhat. "Do you think it's even possible? What she's trying to do?"
Carlisle shrugged with uncertainty. "I'm not sure. Where the supernatural is concerned, science only goes so far and then there's magic. Or whatever you want to call the life force that allows us to walk the earth even though our hearts don't beat. Or that which allows a wolf to exist inside a man."
Then, after taking a moment to consider, Carlisle added, "She has a brilliant mind for medicine. With a little time and training, she might be even better than me, if you don't count her reaction times which are slightly slowed by her more human reflexes but still vastly faster than a human's," he qualified. Then he blew out a breath, eventually concluding, "If anyone can do it, it's Renesmee."
"And what does Jacob think of all this?" I asked in a dumbfounded voice.
"I'm not sure that he knows. She's been holed up in the lab since yesterday when she got back from her date with him. Today is Thursday, so it's not his day with her, so Jake hasn't been around."
"Wait, what? What does that even mean?" I asked, furrowing my brow, confused once more.
"She's got the boys on a schedule," he explained, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing.
"For the love of all that's holy!" I moaned, my head sinking down despondently until my chin was nearly touching my chest. Carlisle patted me on the back once more.
"I gotta tell you, son, I don't envy you and Bella being a couple of married teenagers while also raising one at the same time. That's gotta be tough," he sympathized, still stifling a smile.
"And here you thought you would just get to skip right over all of the challenging parts of parenthood," he mused with just the slightest hint of smugness.
"Not you, too, Carlisle! Charlie is bad enough." My father let go of his laugh then.
"I'm sorry, Edward," he said, trying very hard to stop laughing but not quite succeeding. "There's just something so validating about watching your children grow up and have the same struggles with children of their own," he explained in a voice warmed by his amusement. "It's uncanny how she managed to inherit all of your and Bella's best and most challenging attributes.
"She's brilliant and brave and beautiful and compassionate and endlessly talented," Carlisle raved, inventorying my daughter's characteristics on the fingers of his left hand. "While also being stubborn, and at times short-sighted and foolhardy."
"So what you're saying is…you're glad you adopted?" I snarked, making Carlisle laugh.
"Something like that," he beamed exuberantly, a blindingly white smile stretched with perfect symmetry across his dashing face. It dulled somewhat after a moment, as he followed up with, "I'm afraid that isn't the entirety of what I had to share with you, though."
A disbelieving laugh tumbled from my lips. "Carlisle, we were only gone a little over two days. What other trouble could she have possibly gotten into?"
"I think Renee's untimely passing might have affected Renesmee more than anyone expected."
"How so?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together.
"I overheard her call Charlie shortly after you and Bella flew out. She sounded really upset."
Before I could ask the nature of the phone call, Carlisle went on to explain in a strained voice, "She begged him to choose immortality. She doesn't want Charlie to die, too."
In his thoughts, I heard the tense, one-sided conversation replayed in his thoughts.
"Grandpa, you HAVE to let my Papa save you like he saved the others. You wouldn't have to die! Mama wouldn't have to lose you! I wouldn't have to lose you–" she choked.
Then after an immeasurably long silence of what must have been a devastated Charlie trying to comfort her in whatever way he could, she tearfully spoke into the phone, "I don't understand. Do you *want* to die?"
After a beat, in an incredulous, furious-sounding voice she repeated what he must've told her. "You don't want to, you're supposed to?!" She quoted in a mocking tone. "That's insane. Utterly insane!" Renesmee shouted, sounding astonishingly like me. "Why would you choose to leave me, Grandpa?"
The memory cut off then. That's when I understood why he didn't want to share this with Bella. Probably for the same reason that Charlie didn't mention it when we'd seen him in Florida. It would have been devastating to Bella, especially in the wake of losing her mother.
As we drove aimlessly around the dark backroads of the island's interior, the car's bright white headlights illuminated the rain droplets, the flying insects, and the overgrown fern fronds that lined both sides of the road. My tense ramrod-straight posture sunk defeatedly against the leather seat. The back of my head thumped loudly against the headrest.
"How to possibly make her understand?" I whispered into the darkness, gutted.
Turning the car back around to head for home, Carlisle sighed, "When you figure that out, would you please clue me in? Comforting the loved ones of the patients that I've lost over the years never gets any easier. And I've had centuries of practice."
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes when the peace was disturbed by the internal debate Carlisle was having about whether or not he should tell me something.
"Just spit it out, Carlisle," I huffed impatiently.
"I don't want to pile on," he replied guiltily. I turned to give him a derisive look.
"It's just…after what happened to Bella, I would be remiss if I didn't strongly suggest having a chat with Renesmee about the importance of safe sex." Then he turned his head to look at me with an undecipherable expression on his face and dryly added, "The one I didn't realize I had to have with you."
After a long stretch of road, I finally muttered, "How long have you been waiting to say that to me, Carlisle?"
Grinning, he returned his focus to the road. "A while."
Author's note: I had totally intended for this to be a Nahuel chapter because I know it's long overdue. However, this is the chapter that came out when I sat down to write it. Nessie's just like "Buzz off, boys. I'm busy trying to solve my problems with science." 😂 While also, ya know, not coping very well at all with death because when you are born immortal and raised by immortals, death seems completely optional and stupid rather than inevitable.
I dunno. ️ I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. I never have any idea what's going to happen next, which is why I LOVE hearing your ideas and suggestions. I try to work them into the story whenever I can, so don't be shy, folks! Your idea might end up in the next chapter. Til next time, lovelies! Thanks for reading and reviewing!