Picking up the Pieces

Chapter Twenty-Three

This story is dedicated to my friend, Pam, who recently lost her husband to cancer. She's a wonderful friend with a beautiful soul who didn't deserve losing her best friend to such a devastating and deadly disease. I love you, girl.

Up next will be Bella trying on her dress and final preparations for the wedding. We also may hear from Edward, too.

Chapter Twenty-Three

BPOV

"Bella, you look miserable," Mom grumbled as I stood on the pedestal in the bridal salon. My dress was on and we were getting it fitted to my body. The dress was beautiful. I loved it, but my mind was troubled. This wedding seemed almost bittersweet. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I don't know if Esme is going to make it to the wedding, Mom," I whispered. "She's weak and barely able to get out of bed, or stand, or move out of her wheelchair. She's ..."

"I'm well aware of how she's doing," Mom murmured, her own eyes swirling with pain and sadness. "I've given Carlisle some respite when it becomes overwhelming for him. Carlisle's struggling with her illness, to be honest. You probably can understand what he's going through more than anyone. Anyway, Charlie and I have both done this. Esme has her good days and bad days. Mainly bad days as of late."

"You know more of her condition," I said, narrowing my eyes at her in the mirror, putting my hands on my hips "Will she make it to the wedding?"

"I believe so, but she's ... her cancer has spread," Mom said, getting up and taking my hands and turning me on the pedestal. I saw the same look in her eyes when I found out about Jake's prognosis. "You look so beautiful, Bella. Ethereal, vibrant, happy ... I don't want to take away from that." She hugged me.

"Mom, please?" I whispered against her curled hair, clinging to her. "I have to know."

"After we finish the fitting for your dress," she said, caressing my cheek. "I'm going to look for a veil and comb."

"No veil," I said, shaking my head. "Comb or a head piece, yes, but no veil. I've got enough tulle on my dress and this is my second wedding." Mom chuckled, nodding as she darted out of the room and the seamstress came back in with pins. She quickly adjusted the bodice of my dress, tightening the waist and pinning the straps, which were falling off my shoulders. The seamstress said a few things, saying that the dress would be ready to go in a week. Mom came back with a comb. I twisted my hair into a messy bun, putting the comb into my curls. Mom snapped a few photos with her cell phone. "Good?"

"Bella, you're stunning. Edward and Jake are both very lucky men," Mom smiled, showing me the photos. "Do you mind if I send these to Esme?"

"Alice and Rosalie, too," I said. "Are we okay?" I asked the seamstress.

"Be careful of the pins," she chuckled. "Come, I'll help you out of your dress. You're an exquisite bride."

"Thank you," I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. Closing the door, I took off my dress with the seamstress's assistance and put on my street clothes. When I was changed, Mom was waiting for me, holding a bag from the bridal salon. "The comb?"

"Esme sent a text back, saying for me to buy it for you, but she'd pay for it," Mom said, looping her arm through mine. "Come on. Let's go get some lunch. Edward and Charlie are torturing your children with a little frozen fishing."

"Grace must love that," I snorted.

"She's hating every minute of it. She was begging Edward to get you pregnant with a baby girl. She hates being the only girl in the family," Mom snickered.