"Oh no, you don't."
As if out of thin air, the tiny seer named Alice appeared and grabbed Christopher by his jacket collar. He was several heads taller than she, but he made no effort to stop her as she yanked him backward. "Not now you menace."
I couldn't help but giggle when he shrugged helplessly in my direction, letting Alice drag him toward the living room. When I turned back to face Carlisle and Esme, even they were trying to hold back laughter at the ruckus. Carlisle had moved on to chopping green pepper, gracefully loading the small pieces onto the side of his knife and sliding them into a pan. I had to admit, the omelet that was taking shape smelled amazing, and suddenly I felt ravenous. With his chopping assignment completed, Carlisle turned his attention back to me. He scrutinized me for a moment with the careful eye of a physician.
"The resemblance is clear," he said. "There's no doubting the relation to Aro." His eyes dropped, as he stood in quiet contemplation for a moment or two. "I don't understand why…" Looking back at me, he almost looked apologetic. "I just mean, I can't imagine…" Trailing off again, he looked at Esme and shook his head.
Esme shot him a disapproving look, before sliding a huge omelet onto a plate and setting it in front of me. I thanked her as I eagerly picked up the fork she'd set beside my plate, breaking off a piece and popping it into my mouth.
"This is so good, thank you, Esme," I said after swallowing the first bite. After I'd eaten a bit more, I looked back at Carlisle. "How is the child? Renesmee?"
"Renesmee is well. She's with her mother, at their cottage nearby."
I nodded, chewing my food and taking a sip of coffee.
"Good. She's what, a few months old now?" I was watching from a distance so I didn't get a very good look, but I could see the child appeared less than a year old. Carlisle smiled. Even with his immortal youth, he beamed like a proud grandpa.
"She was born in September."
"And her mother?" She was a marvel to me. The child's mother survived long enough to be transitioned. Any birth can be traumatic under the right (or perhaps, wrong) circumstances but nothing I've seen in hundreds of years of practicing medicine has compared to what I remember of my own birth. Nightmares haunted me as a child. Even now, thinking of it made me shiver. I was aware of Carlisle watching me, suddenly lost in my thoughts, but hadn't heard the footsteps as Edward walked into the room. The mention of his mate must have caught his ear.
"Bella," he replied, taking a seat on a stool diagonal from where I sat, "is fine. Better than fine." Esme beamed with motherly pride at him as he paused, listening to something no one else could hear. "In fact," he continued after a few seconds, "she will be here with Renesmee in a few minutes."
"I was hoping, if it's okay with you both, of course, that perhaps I could meet her. Your daughter."
Edward grinned. "I think Nessie would be very happy to meet you."
"Nessie?" I raised an eyebrow as my mind called up images of the mythical Scottish cryptid before I could control the thought. Edward laughed.
"Do me a favor, don't mention that to Bella. We're all in enough trouble for the nickname as it is."
The kitchen door opened again, but this time, as if on cue, it was Nessie that bounded in from the snow. There was no admonishment about tracking in the slush from Esme as Renesmee flew first into her arms for a welcoming hug, then to Carlisle, before scrambling into her father's lap. She greeted him solemnly, with her little hand pressed against his cheek. I knew from what I'd seen in the field that this was her way of communicating; in a manner much the opposite of what my father could do. It was fascinating to watch the exchange from across the island.
"You must be our guest." My focus shifted immediately to Bella, who stood beside me now, tucking a thick strand of brown hair behind her ear with one hand.
"Ellie," I said, taking her other hand which she extended as she sat down beside me. "You must be Bella."
"Mama!" Nessie reached for her mother but her arm wasn't quite long enough, so she tapped her hand on the island instead. "Can I go talk to her?"
Bella looked over at me first, and I gathered the child didn't want to 'talk" with words. I nodded, and Nessie launched herself from Edward's lap and climbed into Bella's instead. Offering a brilliant smile, she held up her hand, and I leaned down a little so she could press her palm to my skin. I didn't know quite what to expect, but I was suddenly assaulted with images that were as clear as if they originated inside my mind.
And even as I knew the thoughts and emotions and memories weren't of my own experience, I could feel everything nearly as intensely as if I'd lived each moment myself. The surgeon in me couldn't help but marvel over the lengths they went to keep Bella not only alive long enough to deliver, but long enough to survive the transition to her immortal afterlife. She zoomed through other images, funny moments with some of her family, but more and more focusing on the lead-up to the confrontation with mine. I could feel her heartbreak at the thought of running from nearly everyone she'd ever known, upon learning her mother had a plan; a desperate last attempt to keep the child alive even if everyone else perished.
I pulled away needing a break from the sensory assault, blinking back a few tears. I reached to touch my fingertips to her cheek.
"I'm so sorry about that, Renesmee."
She shook her head, copper curls bouncing over her shoulders. "It wasn't your fault." Holding her hand out again, she whispered, "Just one more, please."