[BamaFan121s]

I whipped my attention to the doorway. Renesmee. I reacted immediately, not bothering to pause for even the tiniest fraction of a second to consider my actions. I closed the gap between us in two quick strides, catching her midair as she leaped into my outstretched arms. I dropped to my knees, still clutching her to my chest only pulling her away only long enough to smother her perfectly cherubic face with kisses and glimpse into her chocolate brown eyes, sparkling with excitement before pulling her back to my chest again.



I was still on my knees when Edward found our side seconds later, encircling us both with his arms and burying his face in Renesme’s curls. It was at this moment that I felt the tormenting pain within my depths extinguished, that I felt my anguishing, unbeating heart put back together. There were no words exchanged. There was no need—the pure love that enveloped us in that moment was something that no words could justify.



I lost track of how long we sat there. It seemed like an eternity, like time had frozen just to allow us to savor the moment. It was Edward who broke the silence first, kissing first my head and then Renesmee’s. He pulled back with a glint of mischief in his eyes and teased her, “Sweetheart, you absolutely reek of werewolf,” sending her into a fit of giggles.



“Oh Mommy,” she began “wait until you see my Jacob…he is so pretty!” With that she rushed to place her small hand on my face, sharing with me a recollection of her most recent events. At first, her thoughts ran so wild with excitement, that I was confused by what I saw….and then it became clear. I had seen what had caused Edward such amusement moments earlier.



I didn’t have time to react to the picture Renesmee had shown me. At that moment, the suspense was broken by Edward’s inability to hold his laughter. Jacob had entered the room, sheepishly, his head hung to hide his chagrined face. Along with everyone in the room, I dissolved into a fit of hysterics.



“Jacob….w-what…happened…to you?” I finally managed to force out in between spasms of laughter.



Jacob stood before us looking as more humiliated than I’d ever seen him. Atop his head sat an extravagant, glittering tiara. His long, normally unkempt hair had been carefully organized into a series of plaits, each tied off with a small, glitter laden ribbon. From his ears hung dangling gold earrings, each of which had seemingly lost its corresponding mate. The area of skin above his eyes had been coated with a bright periwinkle blue, his cheeks stained a contrasting shade of vivid pink and his lips painted a vibrant shade of red. His fingernails were a shocking shade of fuchsia, one hand balled into a tight fist clutching a leopard skin purse. The outrageous myriad of accessories was topped off by a violet, feather boa artfully wrapped around his neck.



“Look, Mommy, I made Jacob a princess!” Renesmee beamed, triumphant with her efforts.



Any attempt at explanation he could have offered was drowned out as a fresh round of laughter gripped us upon this proclamation of her success. He stood rooted to the spot, too embarrassed to lift his eyes from the floor, he turned an even deeper shade of red, visible even under his dark, russet colored skin. After several minutes of hysterics, we managed to regain some composure.



It was Rosalie who managed to find her voice to speak first. “That shade of lipstick looks good on you, mongrel,” she managed to say through her stifled laughter.



“Well, you would know…the kid got it out of your bathroom, Blondie,” Jacob responded, an impish grin threatening his bright crimson lips.