New Year, New Me

No copyright infringement intended. Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing with her characters for some fun.

o0o

Epilogue

Betsy sits on her porch steps enjoying the breeze and the warm summer air. She smells the sweet scent of lilac blowing her way from the tree at the end of her little garden. She loves the peace.

She hears the mail truck long before she sees it coming along the road. Often it drives on past as her bills are mostly online, but today he pulls up outside her gate. It's Embry. Her heart flutters when she sees him.

"Morning, Embry," she greets him as he walks up her path.

He glances at his watch. "Afternoon, I'll think you'll find." His smile is broad, his cheeks pink even through his tan skin, and her heart reacts again. He hands her a single postcard.

"Thank you," she says returning his smile.

"How have you been keeping?"

"I'm good, thanks. I was just taking a break from baking." She gestures behind her at the open door of her kitchen. "The brownies went down well last year, so I'm making a few batches."

His smile turns mischievous as he nods towards her. "I would have guessed it was brownies."

She follows his gaze to see chocolate smeared on her apron, and laughs. "I never was a neat baker. But I guess it's about the taste." She shrugs and returns his smile.

"It sure is."

"Are you coming?" she asks. She's baking for a charity bake sale at the local church tomorrow.

"I wouldn't miss your brownies for the world. They're the best I've ever had. Though"—he leans in conspiratorially and lowers his voice—"don't tell my mom I said so. My life wouldn't be worth living. She still hasn't come to terms with my moving out yet."

She laughs again. She loves how freely she laughs with Embry. "Haven't you had your own place for years?"

"Eight. The trials and tribulations of having an overbearing mother." He rolls his eyes and lets out a world weary sigh. But the twinkle is back in his eye as he winks at her and says, "I guess I better get back to it. I'll see you tomorrow." He waves as he walks away, and she watches his retreating form and eventually the retreating truck as he drives out of sight.

She looks down at the postcard in her hand. It is a beautiful scene with a craggy cliff-face at the side of a deep blue-green sea. The sun is setting in the background, and on top of the cliff there are multicolored houses. It reads Manarola, Italy. She knows who it is from before turning it over.

She rarely thinks about her life before she was Betsy. She closed the door on that life absolutely when she moved here. She had no reason to go, no one chasing her, but for once in her life she wanted to have the courage to stand by her convictions and see her plan to leave through. It was an important – no vital – symbol of how her life would be from then on.

Betsy was the name of her main rehab nurse; a fiery and single-minded woman who gave her the strength to stand when she had no strength of her own. She felt the name was fitting for her fresh start. She isn't fiery, but she is determined.

This, however, is the one connection that she's maintained through the years, and she always looks forward to a postcard, a phone call, or sometimes a letter with photos of the children. They're such beautiful children. They get their auburn hair from their father, but their eyes are their mom's for sure. She turns over the card and recognizes the handwriting as she knew she would. She reads it slowly, savoring the words.

Dear Betsy!

So happy to get your postcard from Toronto – it sounded like a wonderful tour of the North East! I can't tell you how happy it makes me. Has Embry asked you out yet? If not, you need to ask him – it is the twenty-first century ;)

Betsy pauses to chuckle to herself. She must find the nerve sometime soon, she thinks.

Italy is beautiful. The food is so good! I swear I am going to go home two dress sizes bigger. Edward and the kids send their love. Perhaps we can do Thanksgiving together this year? It would be lovely to see you.

Much love, Bella xx

The glow the affection in the postcard creates stays on her face for a long time that day. Life can be so very good.

Thanks so much for reading this story! It has been a wonderful process that started in January and I cannot believe that it is now complete. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and review – it makes me so happy to read your opinions.

Particular thanks to songster for editing this story. My commas are atrocious and my Brit speak was in need of quelling, amongst many other things! I know that it takes a hell of a lot of time and commitment to edit, and I thank you dearly.

Rhian

xx