338This is my first fanfic so don't be nice about it I want all the constructive criticism I can get. I've had this idea ever since I went to Portland for my step dad's friend's wedding. I don't know where it came from but we were walking through downtown Portland and I just had this idea. If you don't like it, don't read it, but give it a chance first, and some constructive criticism.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT! If I did the cast of the movie would have been better (even though Stephanie said she didn't choose I would have made sure that I did have a choice, but I do think Robert Pattinson is PERFECT for Edward)!
A/N: Bella lives in Portland and so do the Cullen's. Bella is 24(born in 1984). Edward was 26(born in 1892) when he was changed (I wanted him older than Bella, I know a lot of women date younger guys but it's just a pet peeve I have), but he wasn't married with kids or anything. I checked and World War 1 ended in 1918, so I made his birthday earlier because he needed to have died in Chicago during the Spanish Influenza for Carlisle to have saved him, or I would have had him die at war to make the story more interesting. Also Edward's control is slightly better and also he doesn't have the same yearning to Bella's blood as in the book for reasons you will discover later on. Sorry for ranting, just needed to tell you that.
Bella's POV:
"MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY!" screamed my angel's voice, accompanied by the usual jostling of the bed as she jumped up and down to try and wake me up. She always woke me up this way, and I must say it was very preferable to the alarm clock that sat sitting unused on my bedside table. Who wanted that loud, annoying beeping noise when you could have an angel's voice?
Aurora, my angel, the older one. My youngest was still sleeping in her crib. Well, she was, I don't know about now. Usually Rora's morning wake up call woke her up, too. Which, usually, I didn't mind because I needed to feed her anyway, but she wasn't feeling well last night so I was up until 3:00 AM with her. But, that is my job as a single mother. Luckier women have husbands, or at least boyfriends to help them out with these things, I don't. But, again, these are my angels and I don't mind one bit. I'm just lucky to have them at all.
"Rora, baby, shhh." I moaned, being to out of it to speak coherently. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes as I sat up in bed. "Mommy?" she said in that sweet, melodic voice. "Yes, baby?" I said playing along, knowing I would get the usual "mommy, will you make me breakfast?" I smiled at her as I heard, "Mommy, will you make me bwekfust" God, I love my baby so much. How could I not? She was my gift, my angel. "Yes, of course I will, Rora". "YAY!" she jumped up and ran to the kitchen. I got up lazily and followed her. Antoinette was still asleep, amazingly. As I walked in I was rammed into by my little girl and a cereal box.
" Sweetheart, are you sure you want cereal? Mommy will you eggs and waffles if you want?" I said as I kneeled down to her level. I'd been spoiling her lately, I had every right to. I was going to make the memories while I could. Besides, she loved waffles, something I also preferred. Something my late husband didn't understand about either of us, not that he really stuck around long enough to get to know his own daughter, anyway. I'm not sure he ever really cared about us. I think he only really married me for the money. By the way, I happened to be loaded. Not only with my inheritance, but also with the millions I was hauling in with my best selling series. I'm a writer, which is convenient because I can work at home and lug around my laptop wherever my children decide to take me. I live in Portland so the possibilities are nearly endless. But, we never really ate out because my children preferred my cooking to all of the restaurants in town. Even though, only Rora ate real food. Antoinette was still on formula (I stopped breastfeeding when she was around 4 months, she's now 9 months). But, my Rora still preferred my cooking. Why she does is beyond me. I don't think I'm all that great, but as long as she likes it, that's all that matters.
"But, mommy, you're to tired, you'll get hurted," even my daughter told me to watch out for my clumsiness. How sad is that? It's one thing to have it pointed out by your bastard ex-husband; it's another to have it pointed out by your four-year old daughter. At least, she pointed it out because she cares. Unlike Jake, who used it to mock me while I screamed at him what a horrible father he was for leaving his wife and children the day he finds out Aurora is sick. His excuse was that the "emotional stress" and "medical bills", oh yeah and don't forget "my nagging" was just too much, or would be too much for him to handle! He hadn't helped me with a damn thing since we got married! He did not show one ounce of affection for his daughters! He wasn't even there when Antoinette was born! He didn't even go to the hospital when I gave birth to Aurora! The only reason I put up with him was because…because…you know what, I don't know why I did! I was stupid and naïve. He never cared about me. I just have to thank the Lord my mother made us sign prenup stating he didn't get a damn thing if we got a divorce. I didn't see why she made us sign it then, but now, it makes me feel stupid for not seeing it. We were 19, and "in love". He might have cared then, but it didn't last long. The only reason he stuck around after the girls were born is because it would have looked bad in the papers if he left right then, "Husband of Best Selling Writer and Daughter of Portland's Wealthiest Family Leaves His Wife Because She Got Pregnant With His Children and Didn't Get an Abortion" looks really good on one's reputation. I guess he just he didn't care anymore, oh, and not to mention his girlfriend on the side who happens to be in to married guys who love her money. This is the girlfriend he left me for, believe, there were others. At least some people care.
"Sweetheart, mommy is fine," she looked up and me and shook her head, "Only if you drink coffeee first," I love how she says coffee. We finally agreed, I would drink my cup of morning coffee and then I would make her waffles. After I would get her and her sister ready because we were going to Powell's (a real bookstore in Portland with, like, 6 floors). My daughter loved to read, a trait we share. We were such good customers at Powell's we were on a first-name basis with the employees; they all adored my baby girl. Not hard to believe with her sweet, innocent expression and her big brown eyes, and the long beautiful, brown hair that shown red in the sun that we hardly ever see. Not that I mind, the sun is vastly overrated. Just like Starbuck's, home brewed coffee always tastes better.
When Rora had finished her waffles and Antoinette her bottle I got them ready for our day in downtown. I put Antoinette in her stroller and Rora insisted she got to walk by herself. So we walked out of our little two-story condo and I shut the beautiful black door that was surrounded by multi-colored flowers resting under the windowsill on either side. We walked down the street towards the bookstore and as soon as we got there Rora ran off to the children's section, and in her haste she almost ran into a man walking toward the check out while she ran down the stairs, and he chuckled at her obvious excitement. As I ran by yelling sorry he went rigid, but I didn't have time to ponder why as I chased after my rambunctious daughter. We then spent 3 hours in the children's section and then I picked up my pre-ordered copy of Wicked. I've read it before but me and my klutziness with the help of a water and suds filled bathtub managed to destroy it while giving Rora a bath.
We were walking back now waiting to cross the street, "Mommy, can I get a iced-creamed?" said my Rora noticing an ice-cream shop across the street as Antoinette took in the sights of downtown. "Sweetie, it's cold," I tried to reply while pushing a stroller, carrying 4 bags of books, and talking on the phone to my editor.
"No, it's not."
"Sorry Barbara, hold on. Rora, it's 55 degrees outside, you are not getting an ice-cream."
" But I want one."
"Rora, no. No, look I can't make that deadline, Barbara."
"But, mommy-"
"No, Rora, you are not getting an ice-cream right now," she looked like she was about to throw a serious fit, "and don't you dare throw a tantrum. "Sorry Barbara, but I just can't do it in time, the doctor needs to run more tests on Aurora to see if she'll respond to the treatment."
"MOMMY!"
"Aurora Rose, stop that this instant! You are not getting an ice-," that's when the bags carrying about 30 books in them split open and sent them cascading down on the sidewalk and guy walking out of Starbucks spilled his coffee all over me.
"CRAP!"
"I'm so sorry, maim. I-"
I cut him off, "No, it's okay, I should have been paying more attention,"
Antoinette started crying right then, and the man kept apologizing, and Barbara wouldn't cut me any slack on the deadline, and I was covered in coffee, and there were books everywhere.
That's probably why I didn't notice Rora crossing the street, or the car speeding down the lane towards her.I looked down and realized she wasn't there. "Rora? Rora?!" I looked around frantically, and then I heard my daughter scream. I looked up to see my baby girl standing in the middle of the crosswalk and a battered blue Honda about to run a red light.
"RORA!"
The next thing I knew the car had passed straight in front of me continuing to speed down the street. And my baby was in the arms of a man on his back at my feet screaming and crying. I knelt down on the sidewalk and the man placed her in my arms as he came into a kneeling position.
"Rora! Baby, oh God! Never, ever do that to mommy again! Do you understand me, never do that again, baby, ever!" I cried.
"I promise, I promise!" she wailed in to my shoulder.
"Mommy, doesn't want to lose you, not yet, I can't lose you yet." I whispered this so no one but myself could hear me. And I couldn't lose her, not yet, not ever, my baby was going to get better and I was not going to lose her to guy who should have his license revoked.
I held her for another minute and we just cried together on the corner. " When I finally looked up at the man who I owed my life to I realized it was the man in the bookstore who Rora almost ran into. " Oh my God, thank you so much, I can't ever repay you for this." I stuttered. "No, really, it's no problem at all," He said this in one of the most angelic voices I've ever heard (no one tops my angel's voices). He looked down at me with golden eyes and a small smile on his face; I almost forgot to breathe. He was incredibly pale and had dark shadows under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks. There was a hint of frustration on his face that I couldn't comprehend. His hair was a messy, disarray of beautiful bronze colored hair and he looked to be about 6'2. He was a Greek God.
I must have been a mess because he asked me if there was any place he could help me get to. I told him I was fine but he insisted on helping me with the books that had fallen everywhere and the stroller while I carried Rora back home.
"Thank you, again."
"It was no problem, really," he insisted as we got to my front door.
"I can't thank you enough."
"Really, it's not a problem at all."
"Would you like water or a cup of tea or anything?" I probably sounded really stupid, but it felt rude not to ask.
"Sure, if it's not to much trouble."
"No, not at all. Come in" I opened the door and he pushed in the stroller with my now calm Antoinette inside.
I went to lay Rora down in her bed, because she had fallen asleep on the walk back. Then I came back into the front room to find him with my baby girl sitting on his lap with the most beautiful crooked smile on his face as she laughed and wrapped her hand around his finger. " What would you like?"
"Water is fine, thanks." I went to pull a water bottle out of the fridge and then handed it to him.
"Sorry, how rude of me, I didn't get your name."
"Edward, Edward Cullen. Yours?"
"Isabella Swan, but I prefer Bella."
"Bella. It suits you."
"Thanks?" I replied with a puzzled look on my face, Bella meant beautiful, but I was far from thinking I was anything but plain. He laughed at my expression. I blushed and looked down at the countertop.
"What did you mean?" he said out of nowhere. I looked up at him, confused at his question. What did I mean about what?
"Earlier, on the street, when you said you didn't want to lose your daughter yet. What do you mean yet?"
He had heard me? How? I was whispering! I tried to play dumb, unfortunately, I'm a horrible liar, and an even worse actress. "What mother wants to lose her daughter at the age of 4? What mother wants to lose her daughter at all?"
"I'm not saying that, you just sounded like you meant something else." He looked at me with a somber expression.
I stood there looking down for a few minutes trying to hold back the tears and puzzling out what to say. When I finally looked up he hadn't moved an inch and Antoinette was asleep in his arms. "Aurora, has leukemia, she's dying and radiation isn't working anymore."
A/N: So do you like it? Hate it? Please review, it would be awesome to hear what you guys think about it. If decide it sounds boring and you're not going to continue reading, thank you for giving it a try first.