Chapter 4

• The house is charming. The interior beautifully decorated in a rustic style with specialized woodwork scattered around. It looked like something out of a magazine. Noises of happy chatter and laughter fill the house. Nearby, I can hear a sports commentator blaring out of a TV. We step into a large dining area, with the largest table I'd ever seen packed with delicious food. An elderly woman with long grey hair has her hands cupping my father's face. His proud stance has crumbled as he hunches down to her level. His forehead touches the woman's and their eyes are closed. I can see a large arm wrapped around both my father and the woman, but can't see the man's face. I stop, these people are important. Rose and Leah are standing so close that I can feel their arms touch mine. In a strange way, their casual touch gives me strength, a surge of energy I've never felt before.
• "That's your Nanna," Rose whispers.
• "Your grandmother, Beth Swan," Leah explains further. My eyes are drawn to the old woman. She feels familiar somehow.
• "Nanna," Rose says, breaking the spell that has held my father to his mother.
• As their heads separate, an older man comes into view. I recognize him instantly. My hand reaching for the pendant around my neck. Suddenly I remember why the elderly woman looked so familiar. I met them both. They'd come to my mother's funeral. The day was a complete blur, but I could remember, with utmost certainty, that they had been there.
• "Bella," Nanna smiles, tears flowing down her cheeks.
• She steps forward, her hands cupping my cheeks in the same manner she had done to my father. Her sparkling grey-blue eyes studies every inch of my face. She tips my head down, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head.
• "You have become a beautiful woman, my dear. Welcome home," she says softly, her hands lightly caressing my cheeks.
• A lump grows in my throat and I struggle to keep my tears at bay. I can feel how important this moment is even if I don't truly understand it. Nanna releases my cheeks, but places her soft hand in mine, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing me.
• The elderly man stands next to my father, his arm wrapped around his waist. He is quite a bit shorter, but he stands proud.
• "I know you," I whisper, trying to brush away the layers of a particular memory. His smile widens and he nods.
• "I'm glad," he answers shortly.
• My hand is still wrapped around my pendant.
• "It didn't keep the bad dreams away," I say.
• Our short conversation out on the rocks behind our old house in Arizona becoming clearer and clearer. The man is quiet for a moment, before taking a step forwards, engulfing my free hand with both of his.
• "But it kept you safe and lead you back to us. And if that became its single purpose, then I am grateful."
• His dark, chocolate brown eyes are warm as they hold mine. Eyes just like my father's and just like mine.
• "Hi, Pop," I greet softly. He laughs shortly in response.
• "Hello, Baby-Bel," he replies. The nickname I've only heard once before.
• "I'm not a cheese," I respond, using the same words that I had that day of our short conversation so many years ago. We share a smile, both of us remembering one of my only good memories from that horrible day.
• "Well, I'm starving! Nanna! Can we eat, please?!" I jump a little at the rumbling voice that I now associate with Jake.
• Everyone moves towards the large table in perfectly coordinated chaos. Nanna and Pop sit between me and my father. They are both asking questions about the move and ride here. Nanna asks me several questions about my old job as a nurse in Mesa.
• "The rest of the Pack will be here later this evening for a bonfire and I will introduce you to Alice. She works as a nurse at Forks General. She's a sweet girl and will be thrilled to show you around."
• There was that word again: Pack…. All I can think about is "a pack of wolves". My own wolf has been silent through all of this. I've had enough to deal with as a human, and she has happily taken a backseat to everything that has been going on. Now, as I look around the table, I allow my wolf's sense of smell to rise. I've never met another shifter, other than my father. I take a deep whiff and freeze. So many different scents… all unique and individual. All wolf. All shifters.
• My wolf bursts to life within me, her tail wagging with excitement and curiosity. The fork in my hand clatters against my plate. The noise of happy chatter luckily masks the sound. But my father turns towards me, noticing that something is wrong. I stand up quickly, my chair screeching against the floor.
• "I just need a minute," I say, sending a shaky smile towards Nanna and Pop. Completely ignoring my father.