"I'm fine," Edward answered Renesmee's thoughts aloud. "Carlisle might not be here, but my control has always been something that I've strived to perfect using my father as a template." He shrugged, a slight motion that most humans would not notice. He had to wonder if their "show" -- the props, the moving about -- was something that bothered his daughter or something she accepted.
Her smile, though, was immediate and once she touched Emmett, Edward chuckled and clapped his hand on his favorite brother's back. "Perhaps Rosalie won't mind if she comes to the wedding. After everything she's shown us, I don't see how it would be an issue, but I think you should speak to her nonetheless. She listens to you more often than me," he pointed out.
Edward turned to Renesmee, then. "Do you have a place to live? I have several homes, one of them here in the area near Emmett and Rosalie, and it is quite large and quite empty at the moment. The result of being a famous author." He sighed, hating his "profession" in this land.