Catching Renesmee (COMPLETED)

Orphan

Now that the duel was over and done with, I had only two worries left to mentally engage myself with—my mother, and the Volturi.

Seeing as the latter was more distant to the former, I dedicated the whole afternoon to my mother, who I was supposed to be visiting later on.

I had no idea what to do, not even an inkling of a clue what to tell her. I guess I’d have to improvise, because I would in all likelihood be dead tomorrow, and she’d be left in worry and confusion as to where her only child had gotten to.

After my warming talk with Edward, I returned to the sitting area, where Renesmee stood talking with Bella. They were in the far corner of the large room, appearing to be wrapped up in some kind of heated dialogue; Bella was shaking her head condescendingly at her daughter. In response, Renesmee only grew redder, eventually huffing out a sigh and turning away from her.

“Hey Tom,” she said, forcing a smile on her perfect face for me. “What you did out there was brilliant.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking at Bella. “Edward thinks so too.”

“We all do,” said Renesmee.

“Do you?” I asked Bella.

Bella inclined her head to the side. “Yes,” she eventually said. “You’re quite talented.”

“I need to go visit my mom,” I said to Renesmee. “I’ve got to talk to her.”

Renesmee’s gaze softened. “Is she okay?”

I nodded. “Carlisle discharged her this morning. She thinks I’ve been at the group-home all this time.”

“I’ll drive you,” proffered Bella suddenly. A little suspiciously, too.

I peered at her oddly. “Thanks for the offer, but I can walk.”

“I insist,” she, well, insisted. “I’d like to talk to you as well.”

This time, I did frown at her. She kept her face impassive. Eventually, I shrugged, deciding there’d be no harm in taking it up.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

Renesmee walked us to Bella’s Audi (so flashy my eyes bugged out), and hugged me quickly.

“Be safe,” she urged into my shoulder.

“Aren’t I always?” I murmured back into her neck.

She drew away and frowned. “I mean it.”

“So do I.”

Renesmee shook her head, more like a worried lover than an anxious parent, and ventured back towards the house. When I caught glimpse of Bella’s expression, it looked guarded, as if she was trying not to show what she felt at me embracing her daughter.

A quarter into the drive and all was silent—I was wondering whether Bella really did want to talk to me, and if not, why take the bother of escorting me to my mother’s? Then I contemplated if she had an agenda. Looking at the side of her marble face, I realized that must’ve been it. She didn’t seem particularly friendly, nor was she hostile, but there was something off about her.

“Why were you and Renesmee arguing?” I asked out of the blue. “I mean, not to pry or anything like that.”

With an expression that clearly declared I was prying, Bella said, “A disagreement. I’ve told Renesmee to steer clear of something, and she’s obdurately not doing so.”

“It’s not me, is it?” I said, my stomach hot with guilt.

It was like an invisible lever had been triggered. That shielded look broke, and irritation oozed out the cracks. “It had nothing to do with you,” said Bella hardly. “Not everything does.”