“What’s the matter? Is she hurt? What happened?”
It was Jacob’s voice that was loudest, that raised anxiously above the others. I watched in shock as he reached for Renesmee, and then in utter horror as Rosalie surrendered her to him without a fight.
“No, she’s fine,” Rosalie reassured him.
Rosalie was reassuring Jacob?
Renesmee went to Jacob willingly enough, pushing her tiny hand against his cheek and then squirming around to stretch toward me again.
“See?” Rosalie told him. “She just wants Bella.”
“She wants me?” I whispered.
Renesmee’s eyes—my eyes—stared impatiently at me.
Edward darted back to my side. He put his hands lightly on my arms and urged me forward.
“She’s been waiting for you for almost three days,” he told me.
We were only a few feet away from her now. Bursts of heat seemed to tremble out from her to touch me.
Or maybe it was Jacob who was trembling. I saw his hands shaking as I got closer. And yet, despite his obvious anxiety, his face was more serene than I had seen it in a long time.
“Jake—I’m fine,” I told him. It made me panicky to see Renesmee in his shaking hands, but I worked to keep myself in control.
He frowned at me, eyes tight, like he was just as panicky at the thought of Renesmee in my arms.
Renesmee whimpered eagerly and stretched, her little hands grasping into fists again and again.
Something in me clicked into place at that moment. The sound of her cry, the familiarity of her eyes, the way she seemed even more impatient than I did for this reunion —all of it wove together into the most natural of patterns as she clutched the air between us. Suddenly, she was absolutely real, and of course I knew her. It was perfectly ordinary that I should take that last easy step and reach for her, putting my hands exactly where they would fit best as I pulled her gently toward me.
Jacob let his long arms stretch so that I could cradle her, but he didn’t let go. He shuddered a little when our skin touched. His skin, always so warm to me before, felt like an open flame to me now. It was almost the same temperature as Renesmee’s. Perhaps one or two degrees difference.
Renesmee seemed oblivious to the coolness of my skin, or at least very used to it.
She looked up and smiled at me again, showing her square little teeth and two dimples. Then, very deliberately, she reached for my face.
The moment she did this, all the hands on me tightened, anticipating my reaction. I barely noticed.
I was gasping, stunned and frightened by the strange, alarming image that filled my mind. It felt like a very strong memory—I could still see through my eyes while I watched it in my head—but it was completely unfamiliar. I stared through it to Renesmee’s expectant expression, trying to understand what was happening, struggling desperately to hold on to my calm.
Besides being shocking and unfamiliar, the image was also wrong somehow—I almost recognized my own face in it, my old face, but it was off, backward. I grasped quickly that I was seeing my face as others saw it, rather than flipped in a reflection.
My memory face was twisted, ravaged, covered in sweat and blood. Despite this, my expression in the vision became an adoring smile; my brown eyes glowed over their deep circles. The image enlarged, my face came closer to the unseen vantage point, and then abruptly vanished.
Renesmee’s hand dropped from my cheek. She smiled wider, dimpling again.
It was totally silent in the room but for the heartbeats. No one but Jacob and Renesmee was so much as breathing. The silence stretched on; it seemed like they were waiting for me to say something.
“What… was… that?” I managed to choke out.
“What did you see?” Rosalie asked curiously, leaning around Jacob, who seemed very much in the way and out of place at the moment. “What did she show you?”
“She showed me that?” I whispered.
“I told you it was hard to explain,” Edward murmured in my ear. “But effective as means of communications go.”
“What was it?” Jacob asked.
I blinked quickly several times. “Um. Me. I think. But I looked terrible.”
“It was the only memory she had of you,” Edward explained. It was obvious he’d seen what she was showing me as she thought of it. He was still cringing, his voice rough from reliving the memory. “She’s letting you know that she’s made the connection, that she knows who you are.”
“But how did she do that?”
Renesmee seemed unconcerned with my boggling eyes. She was smiling slightly and pulling on a lock of my hair.
“How do I hear thoughts? How does Alice see the future?” Edward asked rhetorically, and then shrugged. “She’s gifted.”