I held a baby in one arm, a superman rubber duck in my other hand as I stood inside my father's office. I was in front of his color-coded bookshelf, just staring at it. It was not I, who was fascinated with the arrangement of books, but rather my son. He was too young to know colors, yet he realized the different shades of books matched each other and wanted a closer look. He was very observant.
That didn't surprise me much. After all, the mind of a hybrid is more advanced than humans. They are more intelligent than their human peers. At least that's what my father - who was at his desk typing on his laptop - had said after examining my son. Therefore, Anthony's comprehension skills are that of a nine month old even though he is only six weeks old.
An idea began to spin together inside my mind. Before another second could pass I began speaking and pointing at the books. "Gray, black, brown, blue, green, yellow, red."
I was giving names to the colors he was seeing. He was quiet for the longest time as I repeated the colors to him. This was something he was really into and a smile split my face in two; I enjoyed this, too. As I pointed to the last column of books on this color-coded shelf, Anthony grunted, trying to get my attention.
"Yes?" I looked down at him.
Very seriously he stared at me. He opened his mouth and made a sound that started with the letter y. He did it again then looked me square in the eyes, his mind revealing what he was unable to say.
"Are you trying to say yellow?" I asked him. He had no idea I could read his mind and knew exactly what he wanted to say. His green eyes grew wide with amazement as he tried to do it again. "Is that the color you like best?"
He happily gurgled and slapped my hands then turned his attention back to the bookshelf. He was thrilled I got it right.
Chuckling, I smiled at him. He's amazing.
"Edward, would you please come over here and have a seat?" Carlisle called me over to his desk. For whatever reason he had been all professional throughout my newborn's check-up. It was a bit weird, but at least he resisted the urge to obsessively pinch my son's cheeks.
"Sure." I said.
The printer in the corner of the room began printing out whatever my father was doing on his laptop, as I moved, which made Anthony begin to sob. All I did was take one step away from the bookshelf and my son was shedding tears. Stopping a foot away from the bookshelf, I stood in place and looked down to Anthony. I swear he wanted me to go back so he could stare at the books on the second shelf some more. But that was not possible at the moment since my father called me over to the other side of the room. I knew he wanted to discuss something else from my son's physical exam.
Even though my son was half vampire my father carried out the newborn exam as he would have for a human baby. The first thing he did was check the umbilical cord area and spine for deformities. Everything looked good so he went on to check the movement of my son's hips and joints, his eyesight and hearing. He also checked my baby's nasal and throat passages and how well he swallowed. My son did exceptionally well. The exam went onto include weighing, measuring Anthony's length, and his head circumference. With each of those Anthony fussed and even grabbed and ripped the tape measure. That was funny. But what was not funny was how my son was currently screaming in my arms. The sound was the equivalent of a badger being tormented and hurt my ears.
I stood frozen near the bookshelf with my weeping baby in my arms. Panic was seeping in. Helplessly, I looked toward my father, who was getting up from his chair. I didn't know what to do and I was hoping he could help.
Without a word Carlisle retrieved the papers from the printer and was in front of me the following second. He stretched out his arms, silently asking if he could hold my cranky baby. I did not hesitate to oblige. I handed Anthony to him and he gave me the papers as I shoved the duck in the front pocket of my jeans. Without looking at the two papers he handed to me, I folded them and shoved them in my back pocket; I would look at them later.
"Come now," Carlisle spoke to my son in a peaceful tone as he cradling him to his chest.
Anthony howled. Carlisle lightly bounced him while patting his back and bottom. To my surprise, the motion began to sooth my son.
"What's the matter, Anthony? Do you need to be changed?" My father asked in ridiculous baby talk.
Anthony did not provide an answer, of course. He only fussed. His mood was not improving.
"Are you thirsty?" My father asked him, still speaking in baby talk. Anthony didn't fuss this time. He was now resting his head on my father's shoulder as he brought his hand to his mouth, and started sucking.
Before I had the chance to say that being thirsty could be a possibility – although his thoughts did not let me know – my mother popped into the room like a Jack-in-the-Box being let out of it's box. She had a wide smile on her face and a baby bottle in her right hand. Not one of those metal thermos bottles she and my father had provided me with earlier in the day, but a regular clear baby bottle. It was one of the bottles Bella had packed in the diaper bag. And since it was clear the contents were easy to see; three ounces of blood.
"Is someone ready for a midnight meal?" Esme asked, holding up the bottle. Her words came out in a sing-song way, still speaking in that Southern Belle accent.
Anthony turned and moved his head off my father's shoulder. He looked towards my mother's voice. Once he saw her holding up the bottle like it was a trophy, his green eyes went wide. He no longer wanted his grandfather to hold him, but his grandma.
Esme was on cloud nine as she took my son from Carlisle. She held him in one arm as she gave him the bottle. He wasted no time attacking the rubber nipple before he latched on. He was drinking fast. Each intake of the desired liquid, his eyes began to close.
"Is that good? Yes, it is. Oh. It looks like you're getting sleepy." Esme spoke to my son. Then she turned to me and asked, "Do you know what time Bella usually puts him to bed?"
I shrugged. "He doesn't really have a bedtime. I mean, she dresses in pajamas around 9PM every night, but he hates sleeping and usually stays awake till morning."
My mother tisk, shaking her head. "Bella should be sleep-training him. It's never too early to start that and since he is here you should encourage him to sleep through the night." She scolded me with her stare. "Tonight try the three Bs."
"Three Bs?" I asked, feeling confused.
"Yes." She nodded her head matter-of-factly. "Bottle, bath, and bed. Feeding him will get him full, a bath will relax him, and it will be easier for him to sleep when you put him in his bed. Bella should do the same."
"I'll pass along the info." I said flatly.
Esme opened her mouth to say something else. I had a feeling it was going to be about young parents not knowing how to put a baby on a schedule nowadays. Because people used to do it all the time back in her human life-time. However, I have no idea if that's what she was going to say or not because Carlisle politely interrupted.
"Pardon me dear," He put a loving hand on her shoulder. "Everything you mention would be perfect for changing the sleeping habits of a human baby from daytime to nighttime. But our grandson is not human. Hybrids -infants, children and adolescents- sleep during the day instead of at night."
"Their sleeping schedule is opposite to humans? Always?" My mother wondered as Anthony kept drinking.
"Yes." My father answered. "Hybrids also don't need to sleep as much as humans do. Where a human baby Anthony's age would normally sleep 15 to 17 hours in a 24 hour period, he'll only need to sleep 7 to 9 hours during the day. Including a few short catnaps at nigh. The number of hours he sleeps will also decrease as he grows and eventually come to an end when he reaches full maturity."
"Fascinating." I breathed.
My mother nodded. Then her eyes met mine. "Seems like you and Bella will need to get him on a sleeping schedule during the day. Sleep helps a baby grow."
I didn't respond. I mean, what could I say? Having my son here was only temporary. Bella was the primary parent, it was up to her to create and stick to a sleep schedule for our baby, not me. Unless, Bella changed her mind and moved in with me. That seems impossible at the moment; she didn't trust me like she used to.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips. My parents exchanged a look of concern. Without being able to read their minds I had a feeling they were going to ask me what was wrong. However, that didn't happen. The moment Anthony was finished with his bottle his face became as red as a cayenne pepper. Assuming he needed to burp, my mother put him over her shoulder and patted his back. A microsecond after he belched my father's office was met with a gut-wrenching aroma. It was no secret what happened; Anthony had a bowel movement. It was awful and made my skin crawl.
Thankfully, my mother quickly stepped out of the room, never once asking me to change my son's diaper. As she was busy with that, my father and I went outside onto the balcony. We needed some fresh air. He also wanted to talk to me about the papers he had printed. In a flash, I was outside inhaling the untainted air.
"Now," He said, shutting the French doors behind him. "Although there are no concerns, Anthony, he is small. A hybrid his age should appear to be the size of a four month old, yet he does not."
"Is that harmful?" I asked cautiously, leaning against the rail.
"No." He did not hesitate to answer. "I believe his small size helped him blend in better in the human world. Especially regarding Bella's living arrangement and the fact that she took him to human doctors. Everyone around her would have had concerns if he grew too quickly. But since he's been growing at a somewhat normal pace, no ones the wiser."
I nodded my head in agreement. "Will he always be smaller than average?" I asked with concern.
My father ran a hand through his golden hair that was a few shades lighter than his eyes. "Not necessarily. With proper nutrition - blood and no breast milk - he should meet the standard weight and height for his age. Changing his diet should doubling in size in no time. I have faith when he's close to nine months old he'll be as every other hybrid and appear of that of a two-year-old instead of an infant."
There was a hint of apprehensiveness in his tone. It was so faint I was almost missed it, but somehow I caught it and I was sure he was trying to hide something from me.
"But you're worried?" I wanted to know.
He shook his head no. "Not about that."
I raised an eyebrow in question. What else was there to worry about?
My father was silent and I wished as hard as I could to have access to his mind. It was useless though, Anthony was awake and my talent only allowed me to read my son's mind.
"Take a look at the papers." He encouraged me.
Silently I did, and my breath caught in my throat. On the first paper was a picture of Bella. Under her picture was the word runaway and it might as well have said to return if found to Charlie Swan for a reward. Since her father was searching for her, and he was offering a reward. That was clear with what I read on the next page. It was also clear he had friends - police officers and people from the tribe - still looking for her after all these months.
"This is why she never stays in one place for too long." I said when I was done reading. I crumbled up the papers and tossed them on the floor. "She doesn't want her father to find her. I'm sure she doesn't even want to see him ever again. I wasn't aware he had the tribe looking for her, too. However, they haven't been looking well enough since they haven't found her yet." I chuckled darkly.
My father shut his eyes for a long moment. "This complicates things." He mumbled to himself.
"Why? They" –I was referring to the tribe– "Lost their teeth a long time ago." I laughed bitterly, thinking of how the shapeshifting gene died out long ago. Even though I had a habit of referring to them as wolves, they weren't. Not anymore. No one from the tribe had shifted since the 1940's. Yet, my father still upheld his side of the treaty.
"Hmmm." Carlisle mumbled, eying me tentatively.
"A battle against humans wouldn't even be a challenge for us." I reminded him.
"Edward, you shouldn't think like that." He gently scolded me.
I shrugged. "They are humans, we are not." I reminded him and added, "Besides, they broke the treaty when Billy Black rented out that billboard, outing us to the town. No one believed him, of course, but we had to leave town anyway. They were in the wrong. So, I fail to see the worry here."
Very seriously my father looked at me. "If somehow, some way Charlie was to get into contact with Bella and take her back to Forks, what are the chances you wouldn't go after her? Would you let her come back to you? Or would you go to Forks; where we are no longer welcomed?"
I scoffed. That question wasn't even worth answering. Did he not know me well enough to know I'd walk through the fires of Hell to recuse Bella?
"Edward?" He wanted an answer.
"The treaty is broken and there's nothing they could do to me." I answered without actually answering.
Carlisle shut his eyes. He brought both of his hands up to his head. I watched as he put his pointer and middle fingers against his temples and began rubbing the sides of his head. He exhaled, but said nothing. He appeared as exhausted as a kindergarten teacher is after a trip to a zoo with 20 rambunctious 5 year olds.
From down in the yard, I heard some commotion. I glanced over the railing and saw my brothers entering a shed we kept tools and wood in. They were going to gather up supplies to fix the front door. Since my conversation with my father was over and my baby was with his grandmother I decided to go see if Emmett and Jasper needed help.