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Chapter 140

Consequences


Jake


It was hard to miss what was going on inside Rose as she gently stroked over Mom's belly. She looked so moved that I expected tears of emotion at any moment. Whatever had gotten into Rosie, it was over.

So I phased back and gathered our tattered clothes.

Crap. My favorite sweatshirt had gotten it. It was the one I had with me at the lake, in which Becky had looked adorable despite being oversized.

I quickly ran across the hall to the small room and put on new clothes.

Esmé had prudently even thought of a trash can here.

With a conceptual sentimental tear, I buried the sweater in it and accompanied this with a sigh.

Instead of going back to the kitchen, I went to Sonya.

She had seen us and collapsed in horror.

Tentatively, I stood in the doorway and watched as David knelt in front of his wife and tried to explain to her about us wolves.

Carlisle was sitting with them, who nodded me over.

"Hey, Sonya," I said hesitantly.

She literally tore her eyes open, and I saw a hand clawing into the fabric of David's sweater.

I stood still.

I didn't want to scare her.

"Wolves," she muttered, lost in thought.

I nodded.

"But they won't hurt you. Neither you nor our children," David said.

It sounded like he had said it a few times before.

"We are the protectors of the people," I added. "We can control it, and in the process we don't forget who we are."

She rose from the sofa and cautiously approached me.

I smirked.

It seemed to me that she did not want to frighten me by hasty movements.

I held out a hand to her, which she also took.

"Is that why you guys are so warm? All the time?" she asked.

I nodded.

"And therefore also your bracelets?"

"Yes. They are from our biological father. We inherited this ability from him," I confirmed.

She patted around on my hand, narrowed her eyes critically, paused, and took the other one as well.

"Where did that scar go? You burned yourself on the grill at our place once. On your wrist," she wondered and searched.

I had not thought of that at all. But it had also only been such a small burn that you only recognized it as such if you knew about it. Therefore, no one else had noticed that it had disappeared.

"Since we can turn into wolves, we heal by ourselves. No matter what happens to us. Whether we accidentally cut ourselves, scrape our skin, or even break bones. Our healing fixes everything and at a tremendous rate. A burn would only take a few minutes," I smiled at her. I could see that this made her curious, but I wouldn't cut my hand now to show her. Dad would probably just come running in panic with the syringe. "Other than that, Leah and I are just normal people. We eat and drink, we sleep, our hair grows. I also have to shave every day ..." I listed what I could think of.

"They're still teenagers, even if they seem more grown up sometimes," Dad said, putting a hand on my shoulder from behind. "Like everyone else, Leah and Jake have to study for school," Dad added to my list.

Sonya smirked, while I looked rather pained.

"They still get into mischief," Mom appeared on my other side, putting an arm around my back. "They can be sad and then need comfort or ice cream just like your kids. Joy about something makes them overzealous. They love and live like the rest of us and struggle with the same human problems we do," added Mom.

"Even wolves need their parents," I confirmed Mom's words and gave her one cautious squeeze.

"They also threaten to be late for appointments," Marcus stood behind us in the doorway.

Sonya turned a touch pale.

"Marcus knows ...?" she stammered in a whisper.

"Yes. Marcus, Becky, and Brandon know about us. And you two. No one else - except my family, of course - and it should stay that way," Dad said with a bit of gentle emphasis.

Sonya nodded.

I looked at a clock on the wall.

Marcus would be right. We had a date with our group of friends. In about twenty minutes. In the city.

"Where's Leah, then?" asked Marcus.

"Chasing Emmett around the house," I said succinctly.

He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Em couldn't help a snide remark against nieces and asked if we could at least get a boy to do something decent with," Dad explained.

"Ouch!" uttered Marcus, chuckling.

"As a wolf?" asked Sonya, her eyes lighting up a little.

"You want to see her!" Mom stated, and Sonya nodded with restrained enthusiasm.

Marcus then wanted to go and look for his girlfriend.

Dad had given him a little tip in that regard. At the swimming pool.

We went down together to rescue Emmett.

In wolf form, swimming was not our favorite. The soaking wet and waterlogged fur made us sluggish. So she circled the pool where Em thought he was safe. Fully dressed!

"Leah, I'm sorry!" we heard Em already in the hallway of the basement.

A growl followed.

We chuckled.

Well. Sonya didn't. She was probably too excited, but it wasn't fear.

"Leah," Marcus addressed her and immediately she put down her fighting stance.

Like a well-behaved lap dog, she came trotting along and let Marcus scratch her ears.

"You're no different when Becky calls for you!" Dad reminded me.

Still, it looks silly, I thought anyway.

Leah sat up on her hind legs.

Making oneself smaller on purpose so as not to seem scary had become redundant, after all. Sonya had seen us in impressive full size. And in a threatening posture at that.

Sonya smiled tentatively as she walked toward Leah.

"Leah?" she asked, however, just to be on the safe side.

Leah nodded.

Sonya, like pretty much everyone else before her, stroked over Leah's fur very hesitantly and carefully, but with growing enthusiasm.

By the way, Emmett slipped away discreetly in the background.

"I think that was enough excitement for one day. We should slowly collect our rascals and leave for home," David reflected, who in the meantime was also scratching Leah's ears.

Mmm ...! But I didn't get so many allowances back then! And it was so wonderfully relaxing. Where was Becky, actually, I could use her?

Cold fingertips tickled their way over the back of my neck.

I shook myself, slapped Dad's hand away, and stuck my tongue out at him in offense.

As a wolf, that was relaxing! Not as a human. Well. As a human, too, actually, but I preferred warm little Native American hands for that.

Dad had a great time.

At my expense!

"I want to go home too," Mom said after she stopped chuckling.

"And we are appointed," I then stated.

Marcus took a large towel from the pile and Leah phased back.

Sonya had still wanted to see that.

Dad meant that - if we ran back as wolves - we wouldn't be quite so late.

On the way up, we thought about how the Audi would get back home if we ran off on four legs. A very important question! Dad would see to it that we didn't have to drive to school in the barely reasonable Golf.

I got the snacking Becky out of the kitchen; we said our goodbyes and Sonya watched us as Marcus and Becky got on our backs in front of the house and we disappeared into the woods.


Our meeting with the group was fun.

Jason and Claire were not there, but one of the couples from Marcus' ex-girlfriend's volleyball team was. Mel and her boyfriend, Nick.

We were in a gym where you could climb.

That was both their idea.

I had been here once with Brandon and his father. They often took me with them when the father did something with his son.

Climbing, however, was already some time ago. In this respect, we were a bit clumsy at the beginning, so as not to call it stupid now. Marcus could do it. That was clear. The Mr. sports science personally even had a membership card for this place! I would find yet something that he could not do at the first go!

But it was a fun afternoon.

I had even managed to hang with Becky on the wall and kiss her extensively.

Well, afterwards I was hanging on the ropes because I wanted to hug Becky instead of holding on.


But we were back home in time for dinner.

Unfortunately without Becky and Marcus. The weekend was over, which is why Becky stayed with her tonight, and Marcus had to show up at his ma's house again.

Mom was sitting on the sofa watching an old movie from the 1950s. She was armed with handkerchiefs.

That was pretty rare with Mom. Had it ever happened that she had cried over a romantic movie? If you want to call this antique something as romantic!

Leah sat down with her, but I continued into the kitchen.

"How was your afternoon?" Dad immediately asked with interest as I hopped up on the kitchen counter and stole a piece of bacon from the skillet.

"Marcus is a real sports freak!" I grinned in offense, mentally letting Dad share in my defeat. "Isn't it pretty gross for you to cook our food?" I asked. I had wanted to ask that for a long time. I just felt a little stupid, because the vampire cooked for us, although we could do it ourselves in case of doubt. After all, he was not our dad, just because he fed us.

"What does the requirement profile for a father look like?" he smirked. "Maybe I don't fulfill that at all."

"I don't know ... But cooking isn't really on there," I replied. Mom had always cooked for us and had gradually shown us how to do it. In that respect, I had never imagined a man at her side, standing at the stove. Except for David. He had often stood in the kitchen with Mom. Or at the grill.

"I really enjoy being there for you and taking care of you. And cooking is part of it. It's not uncomfortable for me. In fact, I really enjoy it."

"Really?" I asked skeptically. I found it quite annoying at times. Peeling potatoes, cutting onions or vegetables. Especially the washing up of everything that couldn't just be thrown in the dishwasher.

"Have you ever cooked together with Becky?" asked Edward.

So, if he thought about it carefully, he would come up with the answer by himself. Yes. Twice. Both times there was Chili.

"That can be very stimulating, with the actual preparation of the meal slipping into the background, so to speak."

I tried to imagine it. How we would cry together while cutting onions. I didn't find that exciting.

Dad laughed.

"So what about your plans to fight for your star every day?"

"Very ... unimaginative," I admitted. I could take Becky out every night – thanks to Edward's credit card – to the best and most expensive restaurants, shower her with jewelry or other gifts, go shopping with her extensively. But this was not about what I could offer her - or strictly speaking, what I could offer her if she married into this family. Apart from the fact that Becky was not so materialistically inclined. It was all about little attentions, but I just couldn't think of much to say about that. Now and then I spontaneously brought her a little flower. Sometimes bought, sometimes stolen from a bouquet. The same was true for sweets – only without the stealing. The other day I had brought her one of those rings that had a lollipop as a diamond.

"She must have really liked that one," Dad said.

Yes, it had. I had meanwhile fallen over her. The way she worked this diamond with her tongue with relish had been a real invitation.

Dad rolled his eyes.

"'scuse me," I muttered, struggling to banish my exciting memory elsewhere.

"You could set her favorite song in advance when you pick Becky up for school in the morning. Text her late at night to tell her you're thinking about her or miss her. Or give her a handwritten note. It's more personal. You cook breakfast for the two of you and enjoy it together in bed. Or you cook together," Edward suggested.

I thought over his words.

Saying to Becky just like that, I love her, still came to mind. Or formally asking her out on a date. Carrying her bag at school. Or all those little gentlemanly gestures from Dad. Like holding the door or jacket open and stuff like that.

"It was part of good manners in my youth. It's a great pity that this form of politeness faded more and more over time," Dad recounted.

However, it didn't take long for Edward to get onto an uncomfortable topic.

So - uncomfortable for me.

"I would have preferred that you blew the test on Thursday instead of getting caught cheating," Edward began to say. "But now you've accomplished both in one. Mike's father and our principal are old friends. Mr. Taylor won't take Mike's side and expel one of us from school, so as not to do him any favors in that regard, but he can be quite a nuisance to us. Bella told me that Mr. Taylor wanted to exclude you from Thursday's game. You shouldn't give him a reason to implement this plan after all," Dad said.

I shrugged guiltily, not knowing what to say.

I hadn't really thought about what the consequences of my behavior might be.

"You should think about it, though. The teachers will be watching you more closely in the future, and since Mr. Taylor has a problem with the way Bella and I live, little things will be enough for him to annoy you, me, or Leah."

Startled, I raised my head.

I especially hadn't thought that far ahead.

"I don't want your mother to get a call like that from school again!" he commanded me with a raised index finger and a stern look.

Oh yes. The tone of voice also sounded quite serious.

I nodded wordlessly and Dad turned his attention back to dinner. Without any real thoughts I watched.

I had a pretty bad conscience.

"In a way, I have myself to blame," Dad reflected, turning the meat over in the pan.

"How come?"

"I wasn't there to go over the exam-related content with you, when I knew you couldn't do it well enough to pass a test on it."

"You can't always be there for us. Especially when there will soon be another kid running around here!" I said exhilaratingly, to distract from myself discreetly for once.

Dad smirked.

Probably about my perfect attempt at distraction.

He nodded.

Leah and I set the table while Dad tried to pry Mom away from Cary Grant.

From the refrigerator I got something else to drink.

Mmm ... Water, lemonade, juice, milk, blood. Is ... that ... disgusting ... The term 'Bloody Mary' took on a whole new meaning. Maybe Dad would misappropriate some of it and then have those totally cool monster eyes again for days.

I shook myself briefly and took the milk.


We had just finished eating and were pushing the plates away from us, when the topic came up that Leah and I had been awaiting with a cold sweat since Friday.

Our punishment.

And they listed all the charges.

During the listing, Leah and I got smaller and smaller.

I felt like I was six again or something and I would like to hide in my closet.

"You yelled at Bella, your mother ..." Dad emphasized this word, "... and insulted her in the most vicious way. Not only with your words, but also with your behavior. I know that everything was against Bella telling the truth, but you hardly gave her a chance to defend herself. You hurt Bella very much and it was also dangerous in her condition to push this argument to the extreme ... A day later, you abandoned her again when David called. Thereby David only wanted to know if everything was alright with Bella. Not like you, who just left Bella standing there, even though you saw exactly how bad she was ... Then you physically attacked David. In doing so, you did not settle for a little assault as satisfaction. You broke David's nose, dislocated his jaw and several vertebrae, and bruised several of his ribs. If he had not pointed out Bella's condition to you, how far would you have gone? Would you have killed him? A father of four children so far? The supposed father of your sibling who couldn't help this situation?" Dad thundered.

His voice changed. From annoyed, to disappointed beyond measure, to upset, and back again as he stood behind Mom with his hands on her shoulders.

"We thought long and hard about what would be the appropriate punishment for this," Mom followed up in a serious tone of voice.

We knew that we had done too much, and we had already apologized to both of them in detail. With David, too, already. Neither of us had given much thought to how our behavior would affect an expectant mother. Well. Basically, yes, but our thoughts in this regard had only been with Sonya. How she would cope with the infidelity. We had thought only about us. About us and what we would lose. We had simply been afraid that everything would fall apart. No thought that we would hardly keep our family together by our behavior, but rather drive it even further apart. What if Mom had miscarried because of us? Oh, damn! Then we wouldn't even know now that Dad was actually the father.

"What are they thinking?" asked Mom after a few minutes during which I felt more and more rotten.

"Like most of the time. The same," Dad smirked.

I bristled.

Why was he smiling?

Leah and I looked at each other in bewilderment.

But something was very different here now than we had expected.

"So?" ventured out Leah, swallowing as a precaution.

"What did you come up with as punishment?" I asked cautiously.

"You clear the table and clean up the kitchen!" Mom raised a rather stern index finger.

"And do it promptly and properly!" Dad followed up.

"Uh ...," was all I did.

"Huh ..." uttered Leah, similarly rambling.

Our parents smiled.

"The only thing we really ask of you is a promise!" said Dad very calmly.

"What should we promise?" I asked cautiously.

"We both know how temperamental and mindless you act sometimes. So we want a promise from both of you that the next time you think you need to lose your temper, you'll think about it first," Mom said.

"Everything you do has consequences. Sometimes more, sometimes less. Maybe not primarily on yourselves, but on your environment. We want you to think about any repercussions beforehand. I know why you reacted so strongly. That you were only afraid that our family would break apart. Yet your behavior was not right. You went too far ... All we ask is that you reconsider your actions in the future. So that you don't make a situation worse by a rash and ill-considered act, which could possibly be caused only by a misunderstanding," Dad added meekly.

For some time I sat there with my mouth open and hardly a thought.

I tried to comprehend the speech, which I did not necessarily succeed in doing. I had prepared myself for something like grounding. Until around the time I retire.

"They're speechless," Dad smirked as he leaned down to Mom and rested on the back of her chair.

"Does that mean WE have to clear the table now?" asked Mom, played shocked, turning a little toward him.

Uh ... oh yes ... There had been something else, I remembered and immediately jumped up from the chair.

Leah and I first hugged our parents extensively. And also very gratefully.

We also apologized again, and both made the serious promise that we would think first. That we would really try.


Then after the vanilla pudding and cleaning up, we sat on the sofa.

Leah and I marveled at Mom's belly.

Our little sibling was quite lively.

" What's that ... rumbling sound?" I asked.

"The heartbeat," Dad said.

Mom was wide-eyed.

"You can feel this?" she asked, surprised.

It sounded a little offended.

"It's pretty fast," Leah commented anxiously.

"This is normal. The heart rate of a fetus is up to twice that of the mother-to-be. It fluctuates ... just like yours. When you're moving, exercising, or out as wolves, the heart rate goes up. When it sleeps, it slows down."

"Asleep? The thing doesn't even know it's alive yet and it's already asleep?" I chuckled. He or she seemed to have quite a relaxed life at the moment. One could become envious when I thought about studying.

"How come you guys can feel it and I can't?" Mom interjected again in a huff.

We chuckled, and Dad gave her a soothing kiss on the forehead.

Wasn't enough.

She slapped our hands nastily aside and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She pouted.

"Close your eyes and concentrate. Maybe you can hear the heartbeat already," Dad said.

I tried. I closed my eyes and tried to block out all background noise.

Our breathing, my own pulse beat, Leah's heart, Mom's pulse, the wind on the windows, the soft hum of the heating system. What remained was a steady throbbing. It was a bright fine sound, yet somehow dull.

"The high-pitched sound is because of the size. The baby is maybe fifty millimeters tall," Dad explained, and I tried to measure out about two inches with my thumb and forefingers.

Quite tiny for so much movement.

"And the fact that it sounds so dull is because of the layers that the baby is encased in. The uterus or the abdominal wall."

"You guys are crazy! You can't get any more from my Knob than I do!" Mom complained again.

"Get used to it, my heart!"

"Then change me right now!"

Dad didn't even dignify that request with a response.

"Then I want ice cream!"

Leah immediately ran to grant our angry mom her wish. With a blissful smile, she went for the bowl of chocolate ice cream.

If Mom was always so easy to placate, these were going to be very relaxing weeks. Maybe not, either, when I looked at Dad's gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"It's really nice that you're excited about the baby with us, but I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you both to do something!" Dad then said with a less-than-pleasant undertone.

"What?" asked Leah uneasily.

"You must not tell anyone about this or bring any of your friends or acquaintances here with you for the time being," Mom said.

"But ..." I wanted to contradict, but Dad cut me off.

"Of course, that doesn't apply to Becky or Marcus. You can also let Brandon in on it," Dad said.

"This rule doesn't just apply to you two. I will have to abide by it as well. Peter and Stan - or Alex, for example - are not allowed to see me anymore for the time being. I will also have to tell your grandparents something so that they don't come here for Christmas as planned ... At the moment I can still conceal my belly with loose clothing, but who knows how that will look in a few days. The baby is growing so fast. Based on the blood work, my weight and the circumference of the abdomen, Carlisle believes that the development is already in the tenth to twelfth week of pregnancy ...," Mom explained.

"How long are you here again?", I asked, turning to Dad in between.

He smirked.

"Today marks exactly twelve weeks that this house has been my home," he smiled.

Twelve weeks. Seemed much longer. More like years. Not because it felt longer due to boredom or discomfort. It just seemed like he had always been there.

"On the other hand, yesterday we looked at the occurrence of pregnancy-related side effects. After that, Carlisle again estimates that it can be only be ten days ago, or today then already eleven days ago," Mom continued.

"When did you guys go to Portland alone?" asked Leah after a moment, chuckling.

I was still counting.

"Oh, what? You're usually at war with math, but you can calculate something like that all of a sudden?" Dad asked, amazed. "All that's missing now is for Jake to come up with a historical anecdote about it," he looked at me promptly.

"I'll pass!" I fought back with a laugh.


Thanks for reading!