Breaking Dawn

everything in perspective.”

“And we have all night, right?”

He smiled wider. “Do you think I could bear to let you get dressed now if that weren’t the case?”

That would have to be enough to get me through the daylight hours. I would balance this overwhelming, devastating desire so that I could be a good— It was hard to think the word. Though Renesmee was very real and vital in my life, it was still difficult to think of myself as a mother. I supposed anyone would feel the same, though, without nine months to get used to the idea. And with a child that changed by the hour.

The thought of Renesmee’s speeding life had me stressed-out again in an instant. I didn’t even pause at the ornately carved double doors to catch my breath before finding out what Alice had done. I just burst through, intent on wearing the first things I touched. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Which ones are mine?” I hissed. As promised, the room was bigger than our bedroom. It might have been bigger than the rest of the house put together, but I’d have to pace it off to be positive. I had a brief mental flash of Alice trying to persuade Esme to ignore classic proportions and allow this monstrosity. I wondered how Alice had won that one.

Everything was wrapped in garment bags, pristine and white, row after row after row.

“To the best of my knowledge, everything but this rack here”—he touched a bar that stretched along the half-wall to the left of the door—“is yours.”

“All of this?”

He shrugged.

“Alice,” we said together. He said her name like an explanation; I said it like an expletive.

“Fine,” I muttered, and I pulled down the zipper on the closest bag. I growled under my breath when I saw the floorlength silk gown inside—baby pink.

Finding something normal to wear could take all day!

“Let me help,” Edward offered. He sniffed carefully at the air and then followed some scent to the back of the long room. There was a built-in dresser there. He sniffed again, then opened a drawer. With a triumphant grin, he held out a pair of artfully faded blue jeans.

I flitted to his side. “How did you do that?”

“Denim has its own scent just like anything else. Now… stretch cotton?”

He followed his nose to a half-rack, unearthing a long-sleeved white t-shirt. He tossed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said fervently. I inhaled each fabric, memorizing the scent for future searches through this madhouse. I remembered silk and satin; I would avoid those.

It only took him seconds to find his own clothes—if I hadn’t seen him undressed, I would have sworn there was nothing more beautiful than Edward in his khakis and pale beige pullover—and then he took my hand. We darted through the hidden garden, leaped lightly over the stone wall, and hit the forest at a dead sprint. I pulled my hand free so that we could race back. He beat me this time.

Renesmee was awake; she was sitting up on the floor with Rose and Emmett hovering over her, playing with a little pile of twisted silverware. She had a mangled spoon in her right hand. As soon as she spied me through the glass, she chucked the spoon on the floor—where it left a divot in the wood—and pointed in my direction imperiously. Her audience laughed; Alice, Jasper, Esme, and Carlisle were sitting on the couch, watching her as if she were the most engrossing film.

I was through the door before their laughter had barely begun, bounding across the room and scooping her up from the floor in the same second. We smiled widely at each other.

She was different, but not so much. A little longer again, her proportions drifting from babyish to childlike. Her hair was longer by a quarter inch, the curls bouncing like springs with every movement. I’d let my imagination run wild on the trip back, and I’d imagined worse than this. Thanks to my overdone fears, these little changes were almost a relief. Even without Carlisle’s measurements, I was sure the changes were slower than yesterday.

Renesmee patted my cheek. I winced. She was hungry again.

“How long has she been up?” I asked as Edward disappeared through the kitchen doorway. I was sure he was on his way to get her breakfast, having seen what she’d just thought as clearly as I had. I wondered if he would ever have noticed her little quirk, if he’d been the only one to know her. To him, it probably would have seemed like hearing anyone.

“Just a few minutes,” Rose said. “We would have called you soon. She’s been asking for you— demanding might be a better description. Esme sacrificed her second-best silver service to keep the little monster entertained.” Rose smiled at Renesmee with so much gloating affection that the criticism was entirely weightless. “We didn’t want to… er, bother you.”

Rosalie bit her lip and looked away, trying not to laugh. I could feel Emmett’s silent laughter behind me, sending vibrations through the foundations of the house.

I kept my chin high. “We’ll get your room set up right away,” I said to Renesmee. “You’ll like the cottage. It’s magic.” I look up at Esme. “Thank you, Esme. So much. It’s absolutely perfect.”

Before Esme could respond, Emmett was laughing again—it wasn’t silent this time.

“So it’s still standing?” he managed to get out between his snickers. “I would’ve thought you two had knocked it to rubble by now. What were you doing last night? Discussing the national debt?” He howled with laughter.

I gritted my teeth and reminded myself of the negative consequences when I’d let my temper get away from me yesterday. Of course, Emmett wasn’t as breakable as Seth. . . .

Thinking of Seth made me wonder. “Where’re the wolves today?” I glanced out the window wall, but there had been no sign of Leah on the way in.

“Jacob took off this morning pretty early,” Rosalie told me, a little frown creasing her forehead. “Seth followed him out.”

“What was he so upset about?” Edward asked as he came back into the room with Renesmee’s cup. There must have been more in Rosalie’s memory than I’d seen in her expression.

Without breathing, I handed Renesmee off to Rosalie. Super-self-control, maybe, but there was no way I was going to be able to feed her. Not yet.

“I don’t know—or care,” Rosalie grumbled, but she answered Edward’s question more fully. “He was watching Nessie sleep, his mouth hanging open like the moron he is, and then he just jumped to his feet without any kind of trigger—that I noticed, anyway—and stormed out. I was glad to be rid of him. The more time he spends here, the less chance there is that we’ll ever get the smell out.”

“Rose,” Esme chided gently.

Rosalie flipped her hair. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. We won’t be here that much longer.”

“I still say we should go straight to New Hampshire and get things set up,” Emmett said, obviously continuing an earlier conversation. “Bella’s already registered at Dartmouth. Doesn’t look like it will take her all that long to be able to handle school.” He turned to look at me with a teasing grin. “I’m sure you’ll ace your classes… apparently there’s nothing interesting for you to do at night besides study.”

Rosalie giggled.

Do not lose your temper, do not lose your temper, I chanted to myself. And then I was proud of myself for keeping my head.

So I was pretty surprised that Edward didn’t.

He growled—an abrupt, shocking rasp of sound—and the blackest fury rolled across his expression like storm clouds.

Before any of us could respond, Alice was on her feet.

“What is he doing? What is that dog doing that has erased my schedule for the entire day? I can’t see anything! No!” She shot me a tortured glance. “Look at you! You need me to show you how to use your closet.”

For one second I was grateful for whatever Jacob was up to.

And then Edward’s hands balled up into fists and he snarled, “He talked to Charlie. He thinks Charlie is following after him. Coming here. Today.”

Alice said a word that sounded very odd in her trilling, ladylike voice, and then she blurred into motion, streaking out the back door.