XX. The Good, the Bad, and the Okay I Guess

Sunday morning, I joined the Cullen's once more. This time with an old, unused leather journal, which I'd found amongst Bella's things, tucked under my arm. The list of bulleted points I made would mean nothing to foreign eyes―half finished thoughts, random names and dates, and little reminders that had no cohesive progression, but made complete sense to me. I wasn't about to sit down and rewrite the damn books, so I stuck to stuff I knew I was likely to forget.

Edward had barely helped me out of the car, when Alice materialized at my side and wrapped her paper-thin arms around me. "Isabella! I'm so sorry! There were so many last-second decisions involved, I didn't have time to warn anyone," she cried.

I patted her small back. "Don't beat yourself up about it. None of us knew."

"But it's my job to know," she pulled back with a pout.

I shrugged. "Win some, lose some. Seriously, Alice. If it makes you feel better, I forgive you one hundred percent. Now quit moping."

"Oh, alright," she huffed, entwining her arm with mine and leading me up the porch steps, Edward a step behind us. "You have a lot of explaining to do, missy. What's this I hear of more trouble?"

I rolled my eyes as we stepped inside. "You've been talking to Rosalie?"

"Well, someone has to ask the questions," Rosalie sniffed delicately, descending the winding staircase, Emmett following close behind.

"So! Where's the fight?" Emmett's boisterous laugh echoed in the open room.

"Give it a rest, Emmett," Edward halted beside me, wrapping his hand around my own. "You had your moment."

"Well, little sis?" Emmett turned to me, "What is it? Lay it on us!"

"Emmett, don't be rude," Esme's chiming voice scolded him, as she and Carlisle joined us. "Dear, are you hungry? I can make you some breakfast."

"Oh, no. I'm not hungry, but thank you, Esme!" I shook my head before she could disappear and whip up some food regardless of my protests.

"Good morning, Isabella," Carlisle greeted me, "We normally conduct our family meetings in the dining room, if you wouldn't mind joining us there."

"Sure thing," I nodded and followed along as everyone converged towards the dining room at a slow, human pace. I had to bite back a crass joke about me being dinner, and instead took a seat between Edward and Alice. Esme, Emmett and Rosalie sat across from us, and Carlisle took his place at the head of the table. I belatedly noticed Jasper standing in one corner of the room, keeping his distance.

"Now can you explain?" Rosalie demanded, a scowl pulling at her lips.

When Carlisle gestured for me to go ahead, I fiddled with the journal on my lap, and admitted, "Honestly? The Volturi don't have to be involved. It's technically up to Edward."

"Ooh. Eddie, what'd you do this time?" Emmett teased him.

Edward shot him an irked glare. "If you'd quit interrupting, maybe we'd already know."

"Boys," Esme warned, and offered me an encouraging smile, "Go on, honey. Take your time."

"Thanks," I smiled at her gratefully and took a deep breath. "So, it all starts during a birthday party Alice decides to throw on my behalf…"

I carefully summarized the events of that night and their consequent departure.

The resulting silence is tense for many different reasons―some of which I can deduce, going by Edward's pained features and Jasper's flat expression. Although Alice disappears from my side, she doesn't say anything, simply standing before Jasper, clasping his hands in her tiny ones.

It's Rosalie who breaks the silence. "Perhaps, it's for the best."

Before anyone can come to my defense, I agree, "Perhaps."

"Isabella, what does this have to do with the Volturi?" Carlisle inquired, expression twisted with concern.

"During the time you're gone, I end up getting involved with the werewolves down in the reservation," I explained, still feeling odd that I was referring to myself as Bella. But it couldn't be helped. Not unless I wanted to sound crazier than I already did by revealing the fact that I once viewed them as storybook characters.

"What?" Edward hissed, snapping his gaze towards me.

I lifted my shoulders in a helpless gesture. "In this future, only James was killed. Victoria is looking for revenge and Laurent feels that he owes her. Fortunately, the pack is around to rebuff them. But, they're Alice's blind spot."

"Blind spot?" Alice nearly screeched, turning towards me from beside Jasper with a horrified face.

"You can't see their future," I explained, "You're blind to them, and as result, blind to me whenever I'm near them."

I gave everyone a few moments to digest this, knowing they heavily relied on Alice's abilities to keep their family safe. Once Carlisle made a gesture for me to continue, I said, "There's an incident where I go cliff diving with one of them. Alice only sees the part where I go in, but I disappear to her before I come out. She takes this to assume that I have committed suicide, and succeeded."

"Ah," Edward murmured stiffly beside me, "I understand."

"I don't," Emmett frowned, folding his massive arms across his chest.

"It means," I heaved a sigh, "That in Edward's effort to commit suicide along with me, he goes to the Volturi. And Aro reads his every thought." I slowly looked around the room, meeting every pair of golden eyes, "Meaning he discovers everything about your family. And he comes to covet not only Edward's gifts, but Alice's gifts as well."

"Perhaps you misunderstand," Carlisle carefully interjected, "Aro is a friend. He would never force anyone to join the guard. It is meant to be an honor."

I grimaced. "Unfortunately, you're wrong. He has a history of finding faults within covens of gifted vampires, and using those faults to destroy whole covens, save for the single gifted vampire he desires, offering them an alternative. To die for breaking the law, or to join the guard."

I was met with a stunned silence. "If you don't believe me, speak with your friend Eleazar," I told Carlisle, "He served in the guard due to his ability of sensing the gifts in others. It's likely he was the one Aro consulted in these circumstances."

"And of course," I continued, "When Alice and I go to Italy to show Edward I'm not dead, Aro discovers my existence as well." I slumped back against my chair, "So, there you have it."

"Whoa, wait," Emmett waved a hand, "Back up. What does he do about the fact that we broke the law?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Since Edward is unwilling, Alice makes the promise to turn me in order to keep your compliance with the law. He's too enthralled with Edward and Alice's abilities to think of punishing them," I elaborated with a small shrug. "That's about it, I guess. Really, most of the trouble was caused by Victoria, other than that one time Laurent nearly kills me."

"When is this?" Edward demands, as though Laurent isn't already dead.

"It's during the time you're supposed to be gone. But the wolves come to the rescue," I said, rubbing my thumb across his hand. I wasn't really sure how to comfort him. Edward had the bad habit of stewing over his faults―I wouldn't be surprised if that also applied to theoretical decisions and events that no longer have a chance of happening. "Of course, they're gone now, so most of the disaster has been circumvented."

"That's everything?" Rosalie checks with a suspicious frown.

I took a moment to open the journal resting on my lap, glancing over my messy scrawl. "Yep," I confirmed. "Well, not necessarily." Rosalie's face twisted with frustration, so I explained, "There may be other stuff. But that's based on decisions that haven't been made yet." I didn't see the point of bringing up the subject of the hybrid children when my relationship with Edward was still so new.

"And when those decisions are made?" she demanded.

"Then you will all be the first to know," I offered. "Otherwise, it's irrelevant."

"What I want to know is," Emmett piped up, rubbing at his jaw, "If you knew all this, why did you ignore Edward once he returned from Denali? Alice knew about Jasper and spent years looking for him. But you...did the opposite?"

Edward huffed an exasperated sigh. "I already asked. She didn't believe I would really develop feelings for her."

"True," I admitted with a small shrug. "Plus, Edward is like a stray kitten. I would've just scared him off. I had to let him come to me."

Emmett burst into rambunctious laughter and even Rosalie's lips twitched into a small smirk.

"I am not," Edward protested, a little weakly.

"If you say so," I allowed. "But keep in mind that our meadow date wasn't scheduled to happen for another month."

When Emmett's laughter wouldn't cease, Esme silenced him with a simple, "That's enough, Emmett."

From the corner of my eye, Alice sent me a small wave, before leading Jasper away from the room. I felt a bit remorseful, suspecting that like Edward, he was resentful over something that hadn't happened. But I knew it was the better alternative. Allowing that event to follow its course would have been awfully cruel.

"Thank you, Isabella," Carlisle's voice reeled back my attention. "We appreciate your candor."

"Oh, of course. It's the least I can do after you all protected me," I offered them a grateful smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can elaborate on."

For a moment, Carlisle hesitated, and Edward spoke up, "You should ask. Even if it's a breach of privacy, it's for our protection."

My gaze bounced curiously between the two, until Carlisle relented, "How much do you know about the werewolves?"

"Um, not a lot, I think. I can hardly recall the legends, but I can tell you they're not actual werewolves―not like the Children of the Moon. They're shape shifters," I answered, scouring my brain for what little I knew of them.

"Children of the Moon?" Rosalie repeated slowly, as though the words were foreign to her tongue.

This time, it was Carlisle who explained, "I suppose they are a more accurate representation of werewolves, than the ones on the reservation. They only transform during the full moon, and if the stories are accurate, they are quite feral. Centuries ago, Caius was nearly killed by one and as a result, the Volturi hunted them down to near extinction all across Europe and Asia. To this day, the guard are still under orders to kill any they come across."

"Whoa, they actually exist?" Emmett marveled. "Where can we find one?"

"Emmett, no." Esme's longsuffering expression was truly admirable.

Carlisle also shot him a quelling look, before turning to me. "Shape shifters is certainly a better description for them. What do you know of them?"

Briefly, I gave them a rundown on how their telepathic connection worked, the abilities of the Alpha, and the imprinting phenomenon. "Ugh, I'm sure there was more, but I can't remember," I grumbled.

"No, it's quite alright, Isabella," Carlisle was quick to reassure me, before standing to his feet. "You've given me a few things to think on. I'd like to make a few calls before anything further is discussed."

"Yeah, sure thing, doc!"

It was then that my stomach betrayed me and grumbled loudly. Mostly, they appeared amused, but Esme was delighted.

"Anything in particular you'd like to eat?" Esme asked, already sweeping towards the kitchen.

Emmett and Rosalie disappeared, and Carlisle gave me one last nod of thanks, before I trotted after Esme, Edward at my back. "Um, how about a sandwich?" I suggested, "Like that first one you made for me!" Nothing compares to Esme's chicken and avocado sandwiches, I mentally sighed with adoration.

"...Is that all, sweetheart?" Esme asked, unable to completely mask her disappointment.

I chuckled. "Yes. I only have one stomach, Esme," I pointed out, taking a seat on one of the stools lining the kitchen island, knowing better than to try and lift a finger. Edward, easily able to dodge Esme's shooing motions, ducked around her to pour me a glass of lemonade.

"Thanks!" I grinned, greedily taking the tall glass from his hands once he took a seat beside me. He managed to sneak in a peck on my cheek before I took a sip.

Esme hummed happily as she pulled ingredients from the fridge and set them on the counter, her fairytale-like beauty seemingly out of place in their modern kitchen. Briefly, I wondered if the physical softness she exuded was a result of being turned so soon after her pregnancy.

"Oh, how do you feel about dessert?" she offered, "Alice bought me a new recipe book that I'd love to try out."

Her eagerness to fill a maternal role in my life was so devastatingly sweet, I had no choice but to agree. "Of course. I'm sure Charlie wouldn't mind if I brought over some leftovers." I smiled as she passed over a brand new recipe book, the hard cover shiny and colorful. Edward peeked curiously over my shoulder while I flipped through the thick, glossy pages.

"Pick that one," Edward suddenly said, tapping a finger against the bright picture of a sponge cake.

"Huh? Why that one?" I glanced up in time to catch the wistful gleam in his eyes.

"My mother made them when I was a child," he recalled, features soft with affection. "I don't remember what they tasted like, but mother was not very happy when she'd found I snuck into the kitchen and spoiled my dinner," he chuckled, smile impish.

I snickered. "Why am I not surprised?"

Esme glided to my other side to take a look, her smile also growing nostalgic. "Ah, yes. Those were quite popular back then, weren't they Edward?"

"You remember eating these as well?" I gasped, fascinated. I knew how vague their human memories were to them, but getting a glimpse of a time long past through their eyes, no matter how murky, was incredible.

Esme sighed wistfully as she returned to making lunch for me, pulling a pan from the cabinet and lighting up the gas stove. "Hardly. My family and I, we lived on a farm―oh, but you already know all this, don't you?" she laughed softly.

I waved my hands. "No! Well, yes," I admitted sheepishly, "But only vague details! I'd love to hear more from you personally."

Esme hummed as she finished seasoning the chicken. "There's not a lot to tell. My strongest memory from when I was human was certainly of my brief encounter with Carlisle. Everything else is dim, but I recall that one of my favorite things to do was drive into town. We didn't do it so often, but when we did, my mother always indulged me in letting me pick something out at the bakery."

I leaned forward, cheeks cupped between my hands as Esme told me little anecdotes. Most of them short and incomplete, but all of them just as sweet, regarding small moments with her own mother and the horses she'd once cared for.

The warmth of the chicken grilling on the pan wafted across my nose and my stomach grumbled, louder. "Ah, sorry, dear! I'm almost finished up here," she was quick to reassure me.

"There's no rush, Esme! My stomach's just letting you know how wonderful it smells!" I laughed, sheepishly patting my belly.

Esme glowed at the praise, but regardless, she swirled into motion, chopping up the lettuce, avocado, and tomato, toasting the bread, pulling the mayo from the fridge, before tossing it all together into a delicious sandwich.

"Thank you for lunch, Esme!" I thanked her before digging in.

"You're welcome," she beamed, swiping back the forgotten recipe book and flipping back to where we'd left off. "That's a yes to the sponge cake, sweetie?"

I swallowed and nodded. "For sure! Can I help you out? I could be your taste-tester."

"I'd love that," she smiled and glanced down at the recipe one last time before deciding, "I'll have to go pick up a few things from the Thriftway. I'll be back in a little while." She pecked me on the cheek and patted Edward's head before flitting from the kitchen.

While I chewed on another bite, Edward spoke up for the first time in a while, "That was incredible."

I tilted my head with a puzzled frown. Once I swallowed, I asked, "What was?"

"Some of those stories Esme told us," he elaborated, pushing my hair behind my ear. "I'd never heard them before."

I straightened up. "Really? She's been your mom for a near century," I teased him.

He hummed in agreement, expression contemplative, "Yes, but your presence in our lives…she's certainly embraced it the most. It's brought out human aspects in her that have been dormant for a long time, like some of those memories."

"I see," I smiled fondly at the thought of Esme's eager consideration towards me.

Edward's eyes remained far away while I finished the rest of my lunch, blinking back to awareness once I stood and washed up my plate and cup. He dried and put them back into their designated cabinets on my behalf, before steering me back in the direction of the open living space. "I want to show you something," he said, cold palm pressed against the small of my back until we sat at the bench of his grand piano.

My eyes lit up with curiosity and I gazed up at him. Edward cleared his throat almost nervously, before splaying his long fingers across the black and white keys.

It's not a lullaby, was my first thought.

His fingers danced as they played a bright and cheerful song that brought an instant grin to my face. Edward caught and matched my grin, looking radiant as his fingers drifted further along to a higher key and bounced, left hand swinging rapidly between different chords and right fingers a near blur as they tapped out the lively tune.

I swayed my head to the sanguine rhythm, fingers drumming and feet tapping. My cheeks strained from grinning so widely and laughter bubbled at the back of my throat. Maybe it's why I was caught off guard when the song began to dwindle, into something softer―something sadder. His left hand had drifted to a minor key, the deeper chords creating a somber background for the high notes weeping grievously below his right hand.

I grew still as the mournful melody washed over me and seeped into the marrow of my bones, eyes misting. Unbidden, the back of my throat burned cold with sea salt and my breath shuddered through my lungs.

When the song came to a halt, it was unexpected―as though it were incomplete.

"It's not the final version," he confirmed quietly, allowing his fingers to slip away from the keys, "But I wanted to show it to you."

"It…" I grasped for any word which could adequately describe the depths of which his song had pierced me, rising to meet and entwine with the sorrow curled at the base of my chest, both a reminder and a balm to my veiled tragedy. There wasn't any, and I weakly settled on, "It was beautiful…thank you."

Edward smiled warmly at me, butterscotch eyes gleaming with affection. "Would you like to play?"

I blinked in surprise at the offer and lifted my hands. But before they could touch the cool keys, I paused. These are not my hands.

My hands consisted of wide, square palms, tall fingers, and long, manicured nails. These hands… they were so small, palms narrow and fingers stubby and nails blunted, the indigo polish flaking and chipping.

I curled them into tiny fists and rested them back on my lap. "No, not today." Maybe not ever.

Edward observed me with his endless curiosity, eyes sweeping over my dim eyes and the flat line of my lips.

"Alright," he consented, skimming his knuckles across the apple of my cheek. "Would you like to hear the songs I composed for Esme?"

My shoulders relaxed from their taut line. "Yes, please."

His fingers returned to their place, pressing softly against the keys and creating a sweet song that could only be personified by Esme.

I leaned against his arm and closed my eyes, allowing the soft cadence of his melodies to drape across my soul.

A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you're curious about Edward's opinion on New Moon...well, it'll come up soon, although probably not in the next chapter.

Anyway, let me know your thoughts please! Until next time! :)