Renesmee
"A hotel?" I asked without bothering to hide my concern. "Jacob," I frowned, "My dad–" I started to object but Jacob wouldn't let me finish.
"Knows where we are and approves," he finished with a patient smile. My eyebrows shot up and my mouth shut. I hadn't expected that, but I guess I should have known. Jacob wasn't exactly known for defying my father.
It wasn't until we were strolling through the hotel lobby-a Radisson, decorated with pumpkins, gourds, and cornucopias for the fall-that it became obvious why we were there.
Pointing to a long hallway with conference rooms on either side was a sign directing badge holders to the International Conference on Medical & Health Science.
When I turned back to Jacob, he smoothly pulled out a pair of guest badges from his back pocket.
"Are you freaking kidding me?!" I squealed with a beaming smile so broad that a passerby would think Jacob surprised me with tickets to Disneyland. His reaction to my obvious excitement was a wide, toothy grin showcasing his perfectly straight, white teeth.
I held my hand to the side of his face, showing him the only way I knew how just how happy I was.
"I'm so glad you're happy, Ness," Jacob sighed contently and laced his fingers through mine as we followed the sign's arrow to the conference center down the hall to a set of double doors with people in business attire milling around a check-in table set up just outside. "Just so you know though, Carlisle is here. He's giving a talk a little bit later. He's sort of how I got us in here without being doctors or pharmaceutical representatives."
Nodding with understanding, I laughed, mostly at myself. "I should've known. No international medical convention would be complete without Dr. Carlisle Cullen."
A redheaded woman who had been following a few paces behind us stopped me with a hand on my arm. In her late twenties, she had a dusting of freckles and gold wire-framed glasses "Excuse me, Miss, I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. Did you say Dr. Carlisle Cullen is going to be here?"
"Apparently," I replied with a smile.
"Shit. I knew I should've worn my heels," the woman muttered, clearly dismayed. "Thanks," she said, waving me off.
" You know he's married, right?" I shot back, without bothering to hide the undercurrent of judgment in my tone.
With an unrepentant smirk, she retorted, "Honey, they're all married." Then with a toss of her hair over her shoulder, she walked a little faster–in her ugly flats– to claim her place in line at the check-in table. I could only stare after her with disdain.
"Don't let her get under your skin, Ness," Jacob murmured. "Carlisle's been shooting down unwanted admirers for a long time," he reminded me with a light-hearted laugh.
Trickling in and out of the double doors were the faces of people I had seen profiled in the New England Journal of Medicine. They were celebrities to me if no one else. A little nervous from being in the same building as so many people I admired (and not at all because of how Jacob was looking at me in that very GQ-inspired outfit) I started to ramble mostly to myself.
"I don't know how Grandma does it. If women were throwing themselves at you all the time, I'd–"
Jacob's brows rose expectantly. The set of his jaw was amused. "You'd what?" he pressed, narrowing his eyes.
"I—I wouldn't like it!" I huffed, stepping up to the check-in table where Jacob took his place beside me, resting his hand on the small of my back. He handed our conference badges to the woman sitting behind the table.
While she searched for our names to check off her list, Jacob leaned down so that his lips were close to my ear and whispered, "You're pretty cute when you're hypothetically jealous."
"Welcome, Mr. Black and Miss Cullen. Dr. Cullen asked me personally to make sure there were VIP seats reserved for you at each of the keynote speakers' presentations. Just let the usher know who you are and he'll take you to your seats."
Behind me, I heard the whispers. The people standing behind us in line had made the connection between my name and my grandfather's and were wondering if I was his sister or maybe his wife. After all Grandpa Carlisle didn't look that much older than me. I had to work to keep my expression neutral. It didn't matter to me if my grandfather was twenty-four or born in 1640, or if most of my gender found him attractive. He was still my grandpa.
Holding my head up high, I decided I wasn't going to let idle chatter ruin what might be my only opportunity to meet and pick the brains of some of my biggest heroes in the medical profession.
"Definitely not the wife. The huge guy she came with is standing waaay too close," one of the voices–this one male– hissed from a few paces behind us. With his back still turned to the gossiping group of what must've been 1st-year residents by the looks (and sound) of them, Jacob smiled a bit smugly and pulled me closer to his side, kissing the top of my head. I had to admit, I liked the way it felt.
Once we were inside the busy hall, I could hardly decide where to start. In the main hall, there were dozens upon dozens of different booths set up, manned by doctors and scientists eager to talk about their research and recent breakthroughs in hopes to secure more funding. I wanted to talk to all of them. Meanwhile, while all of that was going on, there was an entire schedule of keynote speakers giving presentations on specific topics in an adjacent hall. Grandpa Carlisle's presentation was on pediatric surgery and I couldn't wait to hear him speak.
Turning to Jacob, I bit my lip and asked in an anxious voice, "I'm so glad you brought me here, but aren't you going to be terribly bored?"
Tucking a stray tendril of hair behind my ear, Jacob scoffed, "Bored? Nessie, I get to witness you in your element, knocking the socks off all these people who are a lot older, with fancy degrees framed on the walls. I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."
Thoroughly melted, I sighed with contentment. He was just so good to me. Despite his words, however, I wasn't totally convinced he wouldn't be bored out of his skull. Jacob must've seen right through me (like he always did) because he added, "Tell you what, if I need a break, I'll excuse myself and get a drink at the bar over there, okay?" He gestured to the cash bar off to the side of the room where a small line was forming.
"Deal."
And to Jacob's credit, he lasted a lot longer than I thought he would. He nodded politely at all the right times for the first three or four jargony conversations and even asked a couple of thoughtful questions at one of the booths used to educate conference-goers about the latest treatments in Type 1 diabetes, the condition that put his father in a wheelchair.
After that, it was time to head into the neighboring ballroom, this one set up with banquet chairs lined up in front of a raised stage and a large white pull-down projector screen for my grandfather's presentation. The usher showed us to our seats which were designated as "Reserved for VIP," and in the front row, just a little left of center stage.
And right at the top of the hour, just when the presentation was slated to begin, my grandfather took the stage to a hail of applause–thundering heartbeats as well as hands– from the packed room. He was wearing a light blue button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tailored navy blue slacks. His black leather belt matched his perfectly polished Oxford dress shoes, and his hair gleamed like spun gold under the stage lights.
Grandpa Carlisle's smile was humble as he waved to the excited crowd.
"Jeez. He's like some kind of doctor rockstar," Jacob remarked under his breath, clearly impressed by the audience's unrelenting reception, and all before my grandpa had yet to utter a single word.
"You could say that," I grinned up at my mentor, beaming proudly. That's when Carlisle's eyes landed on mine. The pride I saw in them mirrored mine almost exactly.
"What a wonderfully warm welcome!" His satiny, melodic voice filled the room over the speakers maybe a half second after he spoke into the tiny hands-free microphone clipped to the collar of his shirt.
"Thank you all for being here today, especially my pride and joy, Renesmee Cullen and Jacob Black who is like a son to me," he gestured to where we were sitting and the audience clapped politely. "Well... I guess I'll just dive in," he chuckled and pressed a button on a small black remote, queuing up the first slide of his PowerPoint presentation.
"Today I'm going to be talking about advancements in pediatric surgery, specifically in the area of pediatric cardiology, which has been a specialty of mine for the last, oh, too many years," he chuckled again and the audience laughed with him.
"Now, rather than bore you with a bunch of data and numbers–and, of course, with my patient's permission– I thought I'd tell you about Clare." The smiling picture of a young girl's face filled the screen behind him.
"Clare is a delightful seven-year-old little girl born with congenital heart disease who, before getting sick, loved playing soccer and performing onstage in her school's theatrical productions. Today, by the grace of God, she is still enjoying all of those activities. In fact, she couldn't be here today because she was busy performing the titular role of Matilda in the school play." Carlisle pressed his lips together and nodded humbly at another round of applause.
"Thank you, yes, I'm thrilled for her, too. And I was honored to be the physician her parents put their trust in to perform such a complicated heart surgery…"
And on he went, detailing the particulars of the brilliant procedure that won him the Medal for Scientific Achievement by the American Surgical Association, not that he would have bragged about that. And unlike several other doctors who Jacob and I would go on to listen to that evening, Carlisle never once let his audience forget that the damaged heart that he was lauded for replacing belonged to a person. A person with a name, a face, and a life.
There was no doubt about it, with his charismatic delivery and all of his usual charm, my grandfather had every last person in that audience eating out of the palm of his hand, myself included. I don't know how he did it, but even in a room crammed full of people hanging onto his every word, he managed to make open heart surgery sound as intimate as a bedtime story rather than something out of a medical journal. I was never more relieved that the man would live forever because I still had so much to learn from him.
After Carlisle's presentation and the lengthy Q&A session that followed, he hopped right off the stage so that he could greet Jacob and me.
"So good to see you, my dear. I hope that wasn't terribly dull," he murmured as he pulled me into his arms for a gentle hug right before shaking Jacob's hand.
"I've had quite a few colleagues approach me today to tell me how impressed they were by you tonight. Well done, Renesmee."
I beamed at the praise. Then my grandfather pressed his lips together in a way that made me think he was trying to make a decision and followed up with "I probably shouldn't be telling you this without your parents here, but I just know they'll be thrilled…"
"Thrilled about what?" Jacob asked, his handsome tanned face creased with incomprehension.
"Renesmee, sweetheart, I just got word from an esteemed colleague that you've been accepted into Dartmouth's BS/MD program."
My eyes widened with shock and disbelief.
Looking back and forth between Carlisle and myself, Jacob asked, "What's a BDSM program?"
My grandfather explained with a chuckle, "A BS/MD program," he gently corrected " is an extremely competitive dual degree program that allows high-achieving undergrad students conditional early acceptance into medical school. And since Renesmee's nearly completed her undergrad requirements, it means she'll be able to start medical school as early as the Spring semester."
"Okaaay," Jacob said next, in a tone that suggested he was trying (but struggling) to take the news in stride. "And Dartmouth is where, exactly?"
"New Hampshire," my grandfather and I answered simultaneously, one of us sounding more enthusiastic than the other.
It only took Jacob an extra beat to swallow loudly and say, "That's such amazing news! I'm so proud of you, Ness!" And then he grabbed me up in a huge hug, spinning me around in a circle. Carlisle hugged me next, whispering in my ear how he couldn't have been any prouder.
"And just so you know," he said in a firmer tone, "I had very little to do with it. Your name might've gotten your application moved up to the top of the stack, but it was entirely your own merit that got you in."
Still shocked, all I could say was, "Wow!"
It had seemed that in the blink of an eye, the entire roadmap of my immediate future had drastically changed course. I thought I had more time before I would begin applying to medical schools, and here I was already admitted to an Ivy League school. Not to mention that this would be the first time I would be attending any institution of learning like a regular person since I no longer needed to hide my rapid growth.
I thought I had more time.
The rest of the conference went by in a blur. Fortunately, my half-vampire brain was able to hold complex conversations while another part of my brain was completely distracted. Though my heart wasn't into it as much as it had been when I'd first gotten there.
It wasn't as if I wasn't totally elated to have gotten into such a competitive program that would effectively shave two years off the time it would take me to earn my MD. I was doing mental backflips over that part. It was the conversation I was going to have to have with Jacob that I wasn't looking forward to.
"Nessie? Where'd you go?" Jacob asked from behind the wheel of the Guardian as he was driving us home. I'd barely said two words since we'd left the hotel. "Still thinking about Dartmouth, huh?" he guessed with a forced smile.
Glancing over at me, he said, "I don't know why you're so surprised. You're like a genius. Obviously, you got early acceptance into medical school." Then, using his right hand to joggle my knee a little, he asked, "Why are you making that face?"
"Jacob…" I began, but the words died in my throat.
"What?" he smiled reassuringly. The headlights of an oncoming vehicle lit up his face just then, but once it passed, he was cast back into shadow. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that."
I sighed. It was best to rip the bandaid off, I supposed.
"Jacob, I've spent my entire life being hidden away by my family because I grew up so fast. All I have ever wanted is to grow up so that I could be out in the world just like everybody else," I told him, swallowing the large lump in my throat. "All I've ever dreamed about is having a normal college experience. Without my whole damn family looking over my shoulder and always knowing all my business."
"And when you say your 'whole damn family,' he began in a strained voice. "I'm gathering that you're including me along with the rest of them?" he asked in a resigned voice. I could only nod.
Reaching across the center console to take his hand, I reassured him, "Jacob, I love you. You're the most important person in my world. I don't ever see that changing. But I need this," I pleaded for him to understand. "I need to find out who I am when I'm totally on my own, and I—I don't think I could do that if you came with me," I finished in a quiet, pained voice.
Visibly shaken, Jacob wordlessly pulled the car over onto the side of the road and cut the engine.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his free hand was white-knuckling the steering wheel.
"Please say something, Jacob," I begged, still holding his hand and nervously stroking his knuckles with my thumb. He pulled it away then so he could rub his palms repeatedly up and down the front of his pants–another nervous habit. His hands always sweat when he was nervous or agitated.
"For how long do you want me to stay away?" he asked in a hollow voice. My chest tightened at the hurt I heard in it.
I winced. "Please don't think of it like that!"
"It's what you're asking me to do, isn't it?" he snapped. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. "I'm sorry, Ness. You're going to have to give me a minute here. This is…a lot."
"I know. I know it is. But It's not forever. Just a semester."
Looking out of his window instead of at me, he mutters to himself, "Just a semester, she says."
Jacob
As I stared out the window into the foggy, starless sky, I told myself to watch my temper. Not because I was afraid of phasing. I'd gotten control over that years ago. It was more my words that I was worried about.
She couldn't possibly know what she was asking of me to stay away from her that long. If she did, she'd never ask. I wasn't even sure how to explain the overwhelming sense of longing I felt in her absence. For short periods of time, it was bearable only because I knew that the mental anguish would be over soon. I could only really compare it to the growing tightening one felt in their chest when swimming underwater. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Renesmee was like the air that I breathed, and every bit as necessary for my survival.
That she could so casually ask this of me only proved that I was doing a good enough job of hiding how much it hurt me to be away from her. An entire semester, though? I didn't think I could hold my breath that long.
Still, it would hurt her to know what it did to me when she left me. She'd only be left with guilt and resentment if she felt like she couldn't leave my side without hurting me. Who could live like that? So, as always, I downplayed it. I tried to give her space when I thought she needed it. But apparently, that wasn't enough because weeks ago she felt like she had to take off to Brazil in some sort of cry for independence.
When she brought back that asshole, Nahuel, like a tropical parasite she brought home from vacation, I listened to Edward. I didn't push. I curbed the possessiveness. I went along with splitting her time with the guy. And that fucking sucked, but at least it worked. The leech had gone back to his swamp. And now this? I stifled a groan. When would I ever catch a break?
I looked back at the pleading look she was giving me. It made my heart twist uncomfortably in my chest. The bond. It never let me forget whose needs came first. Whose needs would always come first.
"Can I still call you…write you?" I asked her in an uncertain tone. If she wanted no contact, I wasn't sure how I could go along with it. The pain would be unimaginable.
Nodding enthusiastically, Renesmee answered without hesitation. "YES! Call. Write. Send carrier pigeons," she giggled. "Of course I want to hear from you, Jacob. I want to tell you everything about what college life is like for me. Just…from a distance for a little while. Okay?" Her pleading eyes seemed to search mine. She must've seen some weakness in them because she pressed further, "Give me that and I will come back to you. And you will be mine, and I will be yours, just like how we always knew it would be. Can you do that for me, Jacob?"
My heart leaped at her hopeful words. Words that buoyed above the all-consuming fear of the agony that threatened to swallow me whole if she was ever taken from me. I needed her to be with me, but only if that was what made her happy. And at least for now, distance was the thing that would make her happy. The bond roiled.
I will come back to you. And you will be mine, and I will be yours, just like how we always knew it would be. The words were like a life preserver, keeping me afloat.
Wrapping my arms around her in a hug that was somewhat awkward with the center console in between us, I pressed my forehead to hers and rasped the words as if they'd been wrenched from my chest, "I'll do it. Whatever you need."
Nessie's face lit up then. She was as radiant as if I'd handed her the sun. With unbound excitement, she cupped her hands around the back of my neck and pulled my face down to hers. She kissed me all over my face, my cheeks, my forehead, and my chin before I felt her lips, soft as silk, press against mine.
For now, the bond had slackened, satisfied by my sacrifice.
Author's Note: Thank you, Hannah, who gave me the suggestion that inspired the ending to this chapter. I love reading your suggestions and trying to write them into the story whenever I can make them work. So don't be shy! I thought Hannah had a great point that Nessie should get the chance to just do her own thing for a while. And there was just no way that she was going to be happy going to school with all the other Cullens while having to pretend that her parents were her peers. And can you imagine the hell Edward would be in trying to pretend that Nessie wasn't his daughter when the human boys came sniffing around? I couldn't do that to either of them. 😆
In other news, y'all, my first original novel, "But Where Would They Live?" (Book One of a planned trilogy loosely inspired by my first fic, "She's My Blackberry Pie" and its sequel "Blood & Edward) is DONE. The cover is being designed as we speak, and very very soon it will be available for purchase on Amazon. Going forward, I will be posting excerpts at the end of my chapters to give y'all a sneak peek! I can't WAIT for you all to read it! Til next time! Thanks for reading and reviewing!