Disclaimer: I don’t own Twilight. The only thing I call mine is the plot and the original characters. Written by CaraNo Beta'd by HollettLA Acknowledgments: Kitty, Yummy, Tina, and Julie ^^Banner by JA Mash^^ {1} BPOV December 1st "I don't care," I pant, speeding up on the treadmill. "Tell him it's time to come home." I let my oldest—Jaden—get away with a lot, but he's been on tour for months now. I've had it. He has a show in Philadelphia in two weeks; that's close enough. I want him here in the city for the holidays. "I'd tell him if I knew where he was!" Emmett blurts out over the phone. "WHAT?!" I shout and hop off the treadmill. Bending over, I place one hand on my thigh as I try to calm down my pulse and fucking heart. Behind me, I hear Rose hopping off her own treadmill. I also hear some random guy whistling. If Emmett doesn't backtrack rather goddamn quickly, Rose will be a widow and I will lose my brother. "You better not have said what I think you just said, Emmett Charles McCarty!" I really wish I wasn't in a crowded gym right now. "You heard me, sis," Em sighs. I grit my teeth together and walk over to a window. The view of Manhattan is one that usually fills me with warmth and joy, but not now. One of the few reasons I allowed Jaden to go on a nationwide tour was because Emmett is the band's manager. He travels with them. "He left yesterday. All I have is a damn note." "And what the fuck does it say?" I hiss, wiping my forehead with the towel around my shoulders. By now, Rose is standing next to me, looking concerned. "It says not to worry and that he's gonna contact you in two days. Apparently, there's some surprise. And I found the note yesterday, so… tomorrow, I'm thinking." Jesus fucking Christ. "And you didn't think it was a good idea to call me?! I swear to God, Emmett—I can make you disappear!" I gotta guy who can make it happen. Jaden is eighteen; I can't technically do shit, but come on. He's my fucking son. I trust him, I do, but I deserve to know. "Bella! Calm the fuck down." I will do no such thing. "What about his girlfriend?" I ask impatiently. Rose hands me a bottle of water, and I accept it with a small smile. "Did Haley leave, too?" Haley Cullen—I've never met her, but apparently Jaden met her a week into the tour, and she's been with him ever since. I've spoken to her over the phone once, though, and she seems like a sweet girl. "Yeah, they both took off." "Fuck," I mutter. "Well, keep calling him. I'm gonna head home and see if Finn or Dylan has heard anything." I doubt Jaden has called Dylan—my youngest who is fourteen—but he's really close with Finn. He's sixteen and closer in age to Jaden, which matters. "Where are you now, by the way? Chicago or something?" "We're about to leave Chicago for Detroit in a couple hours." I scoff. "And how is the band gonna play without its drummer, huh?" "Well, the show isn't until four days from now, so I'm sorta hoping Jaden will be back by then, obviously. Bella, you're not the only one who's worried. Or angry, for that matter." "Whatever," I say dismissively. The last thing I care about now is the gigs. I need to know my son is okay. "Call me if you hear anything." With that, I disconnect the call and turn to Rose. Once I've told her everything, she has a wry grin on her face. "I guess Christmas shopping is out?" "Yeah, no kidding." I fight the urge to stomp my foot. I'm thirty-five years old. Stomping my foot is not acceptable. "You have it easy," I tell her. "As long as you don't let Henry and Lily grow up." Henry is eleven and Lily is seven—I hope they stay that way. Unlike Rose and Emmett who did everything right—dated, moved in together, started their careers, got married, then had children—I got knocked up when I was still sixteen. Broken condom—age-old tale. I actually gave birth to Jaden on my seventeenth birthday. Though, I didn't stop there. Jaden's dad, Peter—a preppy New Yorker I met down at Wildwood—bailed right away. He was there on vacation; the last thing he wanted was to become a father. And then, only a year later, I met Alec and became pregnant after a few months; I gave birth to Finn in October just after I turned nineteen. Alec and I stuck together for a few years, and he's the father of both Finn and Dylan. My youngest also came to me in October; I was twenty-one. Then Alec left when Dylan was two. The first thing I did was change Finn and Dylan's last name to McCarty. So, at the age of twenty-three, I was alone with three boys. I was stupid, I know this. But it's not like I can regret it. I love my sons more than anything, and I've given them all I could. Thanks to Emmett and Rose, I was also able to go to college and make a life for myself. Emmett, being six years older than I, took over the role of a father to me when our parents were killed in a car accident fifteen years ago, and I owe him my life. But…couldn't he have called me the second he lost sight of Jaden yesterday? Ugh. "Don't get me started on Henry," Rose huffs. Grabbing our stuff, we walk toward the showers. "I'm suddenly fighting with him each morning for the fucking shower. I can't wait for the other bathroom to be finished." Ah yeah, they're redoing the tiles in their upstairs bathroom. I forgot. "I mean seriously, why does the kid need half an hour to shower every morning?" Oh, please. That's an easy one. "He's eleven," I say flatly, opening the door to the women's changing room. "I'm sure you, a doctor, can figure it out." Even if she gave up her job two years ago to stay at home with the kids in Staten Island, she still spent a gazillion years becoming a pediatrician. She says she might return to work when the kids are off to college. I don't know. She's thirty-nine; by the time Lily's graduated high school, she'll be over fifty. "No!" Rose's eyes widen as realization dawns on her. "Is he—is he…?" I grin and nod, while I scroll down until I see Jaden's number on my phone. "He's jacking it, honey," I say and pat her arm. Bringing the phone to my ear, I wait for my son to answer. "How can you be so sure?" she asks as we reach our lockers. I give her a pointed look just as my call goes to voicemail. "Three boys," I mouth, holding up three fingers. "Hey, you've reached Jaden McCarty's phone. I can't answer right now, but leave a message after the beep. If you're lucky, I might just call back." Beep. "Jaden, this is your mother," I grit out, placing a hand on my hip. "If you're lucky, I won't wring your fucking neck when I see you again! Call me!" I blow out a breath and kick off my shoes. "Oh, and Mommy loves you. Kiss, kiss." I click the end button, lose the clothes, grab two bath towels, my shower products, and enter the shower room with Rose. "Oh, my God, go stand over there." Rose points at a stall farther away from hers. I give her a look in question, to which she groans. "I don't want you too close. It's bad for my ego." For the love of God. "You need to stop that shit." I take the stall next to hers and step under the hot spray. "You're hot, Rose. Give it a rest." She's under the impression that she looks older than she is. At the same time, she claims that I look at least ten years younger than I am. "But how do you do it?" she whines. I snicker and reach for my shampoo. "I had my kids before twenty—that's what I did." Well, I was twenty-one when I had Dylan. But yeah, it obviously helped that I was so young. My body was able to return to its original state before I was twenty-five. And since then…regular exercising, eating healthily, moisturizing…oh, and I've never really dieted. None of that yo-yo thing. I've taken it slowly, allowing my skin and body to adjust. And curves aren't wrong. They actually make you look younger when you hit thirty. 'Cause that's when your skin starts to lose its own powers to slink back if you drop a few. So, now I carry some extra pounds, maybe ten or fifteen, and I refuse to lose them, because I'm pretty sure I'd get wrinkles if I did.