A/N: Anyone wanna submit name suggestions for this furball?

Disclaimer

Twilight and all affiliated characters are the property of Stephanie Meyer. I do not own any of the aforementioned characters except Beth and the plot of this story (that is, should it stray from the original Twilight). This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line. I am not in any way, shape, or form benefiting financially from the publishing of this story on this site and am very grateful for Mrs. Meyer's creation. Besides, if I did own Twilight, I'd have booked a seat for the Opera House in Sydney.

The morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over the quiet town of Forks- a rare event and not one that should be taken for granted. People would no doubt be doing their utmost to soak in the sun's cool rays and rightly so...Everyone, that is, except Beth who elected to sit in her room, the curtains drawn tight, casting a shadow over her from where she sat on the edge of her bed, lost in thought. The events of the past few weeks weighed heavily on her mind, and she felt a mixture of anger, hurt, and confusion swirling within her, a never ending blend of inner turmoil that resonated deep in her soul. She had chosen to isolate herself, keeping her emotions bottled up and you'd think that being well over one hundred years old and backed with life lessons from not one- but two lives would have taught her better.

A knock on her bedroom door roused her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see her Grandma standing in the doorway, a gentle smile on her aged lips. She was smiling, yes, but the grief of her recent loss was still plain to see. "Beth, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand with something?"

Beth's initial instinct was to snap, to let out the anger that had been simmering just below the surface and erupt like a volcano. But as she met Grandma Helen's kind eyes, she felt a pang of guilt. Helen didn't deserve her anger. With a heavy sigh, she nodded. "Sure, Grandma. What do you need?"

Helen's smile brightened and the tiredness that exuded from her previously seemed to vanish."I'm hoping to clear out the garage at the house. It's been quite a mess since Geoffrey passed, and I could really use some assistance."

Beth bit her lip, a surge of annoyance bubbling within her. She wanted to be left alone with her thoughts, to stew in her own emotions, but she knew that helping her grandmother was the right thing to do. "Yeah, okay. I'll help."

"Thank you, dear," Helen said with genuine gratitude, clasping her hands together. "I know it's not the most exciting task, but it'll mean a lot."

Unfortunately for them, Bella had stolen the truck in the early morning no doubt gone La Push for whatever reason or another, leaving Beth and subsequently Helen without a lift. With the truck gone, however, Charlie volunteered to drive them to the old house to tackle the task they'd set out to accomplish. And just shortly after arriving and dropping them off, Charlie left them to deal with an emergency.

Beth and Grandma Helen stood in front of the open garage door, the sight of the clutter within making Beth's frustration bubble up once more. But she swallowed it down, reminding herself that helping her grandmother was more important.

"Alright," Grandma Helen said, rolling up her sleeves. "Let's get started."

They spent the entire morning unearthing boxes and dusty items from the garage's depths. Memories and objects long forgotten were resurfacing with each find, and it was both nostalgic and painful for the silver haired woman. Few were even aged and yellowed baby pictures of Charlie throughout his childhood and years of school. Beth was even more surprised when she unearthed a photograph of her mom and dad at what she guessed was prom- her mother in a silky satin purple dress and an updo current with her time. A pretty white corsage of baby's breath was attached to her wrist where a strong arm secured her into an embrace from her father. He had looked so different- them both so young and filled with life- untouched by the cruelties that it brought with it. It was a strange sight, one made even stranger by the fact that his signature mustache was absent. The last time Beth had seen him without it had been when her mom had taken her and Bella away before announcing the divorce.

Getting up from her crouched position, Beth made to go to her grandparents old bedroom, where Grandma Helen had paused to take a break. When she walked in though, she was privy to Grandma Helen sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped and silent tears sliding down her cheek. Beth's heart clenched painfully, and she stepped forward to comfort her.

"Grandma," Beth said softly, her voice filled with compassion.

Helen looked up, wiping away her tears. "Oh, I'm alright," she brushed her off, rubbing her hands down her face, trembling slightly as they were.

Beth offered a sad smile, sitting down beside her. "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know. It's okay to grieve."

Helen let out a shaky breath, her eyes brimming with new and unshed tears. "I know. It's just-This house feels so empty without him."

Beth reached out and placed a comforting hand on Helen's shoulder as she spoke, "Nearly fifty years with that man. Even when he was around, I couldn't get him away and now that he's gone- I just-," the woman struggled, sniffling as more tears fell down her cheeks in rivets, "I can't remember what it was like without him."

Unsure of what more she could do, Beth held her grandma in a tight hug as she sobbed. In that moment, Elizabeth never related more to her grandmother. Her chest tugged as her mind flickered to the penny haired demon who'd forced his way into her life- who approached her even when she was at her most unapproachable and then left her with an open wound, burning and stinging with the abruptness of it all.

After a while, Grandma Helen's eyes grew heavy, and drifted off to sleep. Beth carefully got up, tucking a blanket around the woman and quietly left the room.

Once she was back in the garage, she was faced with the piles of junk and memories they had uncovered. Taking a deep breath, she realized that helping her grandmother had brought a sense of purpose and distraction from her own self-isolation and with renewed determination, she began sorting through the items, organizing them into neat piles, and trying to find some semblance of order within the chaos. At the end of it, when the day stretched on into evening, Beth felt a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment. She had thrown out what she could and saved what she'd thought her grandma would've wanted to treasure. The garage was slowly becoming a more manageable space, and when she'd woken up much later- Grandma Helen's smile was evidence enough that her efforts were appreciated.

And in that moment, amidst the scattered memories and dusty relics, Beth felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to navigate the challenges that lay ahead, not just for herself, but for her family as well.

Continuing to sort through the last items in the garage, she'd paused when after lifting a pretty heavy piece of drywall, heard a strange noise. Carefully placing it down, she listened again and a soft, pitiful meowing caught her attention. Turning, she followed the sound, her heart aching just slightly as she discovered a tiny black and white kitten huddled in a corner. It was emaciated, its fur matted and dirty, ribs visible above the fat and full pudgy middle.

Kneeling down, Beth carefully reached out a hand, letting the kitten sniff her fingers before tentatively nuzzling against her palm. "Hey there, little one," she murmured, her voice soothing.

Against her better judgment, Beth scooped up the kitten, cradling it in her arms. She could feel its fragile body trembling, and a wave of sympathy washed over her. "You've had a tough time, haven't you?" She cooed gently.

Grandma Helen's voice broke through her thoughts then, clearly having just woken up. "What's that?"

Beth turned to see her grandmother standing at the doorway of the garage, curiosity and wariness in her eyes. "It's a kitten," Beth replied, her voice gentle. "I just found it and it looks like it's been abandoned."

Helen stepped closer, her expression softening as she looked at the small creature in Beth's arms. "Oh, poor thing."

"I know, Grandma," Beth said, her gaze fixed on the kitten. "But taking care of a kitten is a lot of work, and I don't think either of us needs any more stress right now."

Helen's eyes practically twinkled as she gently plucked the kitten from Beth's arms and walked into the house," Maybe you would, but I wouldn't mind the company."

Beth shook her head, a tiny fond smile gracing her lips as she watched her grandmother cradle the kitten in one hand and reach for a can of unopened mackerel and some milk from the fridge.

As she watched Helen bustling around the kitchen, preparing a makeshift meal for the kitten, she reached for the tiny flip phone that Alice had given her and Bella during the summer, resigning herself to stay for the rest of the weekend if only to help her grandmother with the rest of the house. With a sigh, she tucked her phone away, her thoughts turning back to the little kitten now lapping at the fish and milk in the shallow bowl. It seemed that fate had thrown them a new companion, and despite her initial reservations, Beth couldn't deny that there was something comforting about the new addition to the family.