Author's note: This short story is part of a reimagined Twilight universe, and covers most of Esme's life before she became a vampire. It's part two of an unofficial series focussed on meetings.

Please note, as with most of the Cullens in this universe, Esme no longer uses the same name she was born with so the name used throughout this story is the one she had at that time in her life. The same goes for Carlisle. I'm not doing this specifically to confuse anyone, I swear.

Content warnings: Canonically, Esme's backstory involves quite a lot of traumatic and potentially triggering topics including abusive relationships, violence towards children and suicide. I chose to go in a different direction with her character and her history, so those topics are not involved in this story. I'm not here to shock anyone, and I don't feel that those things added anything of value to her character. That said, some later parts of the story fall in the middle of a war, so it's not all rainbows and roses. Use your discretion.

Also, I'd like to think this goes without saying but in the world of fanfiction anything goes, so I feel the need to be specific: Due to the fact that Esme (or Sue) is still very young in the first chapters, let make it crystal clear, Word of God, that there is NO romantic or sexual context to the interactions between Sue and Mr Grant at this time in their lives. I'm not here to shame anyone, and fanfiction can be a great safe space to explore topics that would otherwise be very unsafe in the real world - however, I have no interest in writing or reading about the sexualising or romanticising of adult/child relationships. If that is something you happen to be interested in, please be aware that you won't find it here and I'd appreciate if you didn't raise the topic in the comments. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Twilight and associated characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. This story belongs to me.


Chapter 1

Benson, Arizona

Summer 1891

'Susan! Susan, get down from there this minute!'

Sighing, Susan leant out of her nest in the bowl of the sycamore. 'Why?'

'Mother says we all have to dress in our best, and your hair takes so long,' Abigail said, hands on her hips. 'It's probably full of ants, anyway.'

'It is not!' Susan shuddered.

'Well if you will sit in trees all day, it'd serve you right! Come down, for heaven's sake. The doctor will be here very soon.'

'Why do we have to meet him? I don't see the point,' Susan complained, but she was already tucking her book into the pocket of her apron. She got a foot onto the branch below and swung down.

'Oh goodness, I can't look,' Abigail moaned, covering her eyes. 'He's coming to see Belinda, Sue, so the least we can do is say thank you!'

Susan's lip jutted with annoyance, but she couldn't argue. They were all relieved that somebody would be seeing to Belinda. She'd been coughing for months, and Mr Jeffreys in town just kept advising bed rest. Mother was getting quite frantic.

Dropping to the ground with a thump, Susan and Abigail shared a mutually accusing look and then went inside, still bickering.

'I don't want my hair up, it always takes so long to brush out!'

'Oh, stop making such a fuss! If you cared enough to brush it yourself in the mornings you wouldn't have so much trouble!'

'I would but it's too long! I can't reach all the way to the ends.'

'Then you'll just have to manage, won't you? Come on. No, don't wipe your feet there- Oh, for goodness' sake!'

An hour later they were all sitting in an uneasy hush in the parlour, hair free of ants and brushed for longer than Susan would have liked, dressed in their best muslins.

'How much longer do we have to wait?' Susan whispered, eyeing the cookies that had been arranged on the table.

'Shhh.' Marianne, her eldest sister, gave her a dark look from where she was busy watching the kettle through the kitchen door. 'Don't fidget.'

Susan glanced around impatiently. Abigail was working on her cross-stitch, and Jennifer was looking over her shoulder like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Susan wanted to groan with boredom, but she knew Marianne would be a nuisance about it so she kept quiet, trying not to tap her feet.

There was a sudden scurry of footsteps in the corridor, and they all jumped as Mother came flying in. 'Get the tea made, hurry!' she gasped. 'He's only a moment away!'

Marianne bolted for the kettle while Abigail rushed to tidy away her sewing. Jennifer looked ready to burst into tears from nerves.

After a few more moments everything settled down again. Then Mother came back in, ushering the tall young man with golden hair like he was a prince.

'Here, Mr Grant, please have a seat,' Mother offered breathlessly. 'We really can't thank you enough, Mr Grant, you've been such a mercy on our house, you really have.'

'I'm only glad I could help, Mrs Darrow,' the doctor said softly. He had a quiet, low sort of voice; he sounded nice, Susan thought, and maybe a little shy.

'Marianne! Mr Grant, this is our eldest, Marianne, and this is Abigail. The girls are Jennifer and Susan.'

'It is a great pleasure to meet all of you ladies. I hope the summer is treating you well.'

'Oh, it's a trouble in the heat,' Marianne said eagerly, tossing her hair in a fashion that Susan felt was extremely silly. 'Thank goodness for the shade today! If only it would rain a little, the roses are going to die if it carries on like this.'

'Marianne, please, give Mr Grant a cookie,' Mother said reprovingly, widening her eyes.

Chastened, Marianne picked up the plate.

'Oh, that's very kind,' Mr Grant murmured, seeming embarrassed. 'I'm... I'm afraid I don't eat between meals, Mrs Darrow. I hope I didn't put you to any trouble.'

'Goodness, not at all!' Mother said quickly, glaring at Marianne like it was her fault. 'Won't you take some tea?'

'Ah, thank you...'

'What's wrong with Belinda?'

'Susan!'

Mother and Abigail both looked shocked, but Susan just frowned at the doctor, waiting for an answer.

Mr Grant met her stern gaze and smiled, but not in the tiresome, patronising way she expected from most grown up men who talked to her. He seemed pleased by her question.

'Have you ever heard of asthma?'

'No.'

'It's an inflammatory disease that effects the respiratory system and makes it hard to breathe,' Mr Grant said, leaning forward a little to explain. He seemed not to notice the teacup Mother was offering him. 'The bad news is that we haven't found a reliable cure as yet, but the good news is that it is treatable. I've given your mother some liniment, and I hope your sister will feel better very soon.'

'Why does it make it hard to breathe? Is that why she coughs all the time?'

'Oh Susan, please, don't bother the man with such ridiculous questions,' Mother broke in. 'Here, Mr Grant, have some tea.'

'Thank you- But it's really no bother, Mrs Darrow. I'm always happy to explain these things. The more young people understand the world around them, the better chance they have of improving on it. Don't you agree?'

'Oh, well, I suppose that's right.'

Mother seemed a little flustered, but Susan felt a flush of excitement at his words. He didn't mind her questions. He wanted her to understand.

'Is it the asthma that makes her wheeze when she tries to run?'

Mr Grant's eyes returned to Susan instantly, lighting up at her interest. 'Yes, that's a very common symptom of asthma. Does she tire quickly?'

'Always. She doesn't like playing with me and Jenny because she gets out of breath.'

He nodded. 'Well, Miss Darrow, I would suggest you find gentle ways to play together that don't push her too hard. I know it can be difficult when you want to play outside, but she may find it quite frustrating being the only one who can't jump rope or play catch. Do you read?'

'Oh, goodness,' Mother was muttering, visibly embarrassed.

'Yes,' Susan said brazenly, ignoring her. 'I read very well.'

Mr Grant's eyes crinkled with a warm smile. 'That's very good. Perhaps you and Belinda can read together sometimes, in that case.'

'Susan, don't be such a show-off,' Abigail broke in, rolling her eyes. 'You're not so very good at it.'

'I'm better than you!'

'Girls!' Mother looked about to faint from shame. 'Please! Have a little decorum.'

Mr Grant was clearly trying not to laugh. He cleared his throat.

'Well, Miss Darrow, I imagine Belinda would appreciate your company sometimes when she has to rest. It can be very lonely being the odd one out.'

I know, thought Susan.

Mother recovered the conversation then, and Susan sat quietly at last, only sharing a scowl with Abigail when the grown ups' backs were turned.

When he finally excused himself they all went to wave him off from the front door, and then scurried back to the parlour window to watch him retreating down the road.

'He didn't drink his tea,' Jennifer observed, puzzled.

'He's very handsome,' Abigail said, a little wistfully.

'Yes he is, and he must think you were all raised by wolves after that show you put on,' Mother burst out, fanning herself in her distress. 'Good lord in heaven, he surely saw how pretty you are, Marianne, but you won't ever catch yourself a husband like that with sisters like yours!'

'It's not my fault!' Abigail objected. 'Sue was the one being awful! Did you hear her?'

'Half the county must have heard her!' Mother snapped. 'Oh, where is that girl?'

'She's probably up a tree again.'

'If she ruins another petticoat, I... Oh, all that muslin! Susan! Susan!'

The back gate was still swinging, but Susan was too far away to hear her mother's call.


There was a shortcut down the bank from the back yard and onto the road that led into Benson. Susan ran down the track between the trees, her hateful petticoats pulled up to her knees, so fast she felt like she was flying.

She came out onto the road just behind the young doctor and for a moment she clung to the fence, hurriedly brushing down her skirts and trying to catch her breath. After a few more steps he paused and turned to look at her, a smile crinkling around his eyes.

'Good day, Miss Darrow. Did I forget something?'

'No, Mr Grant. Good day. Are you going back to Benson?'

'Yes, I am.'

'I have to go and meet Father.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'My word. It's quite a long walk on your own. Do you need an escort?'

'Yes please.'

He smiled again and offered her his arm. 'In that case, it would be an honour, madam.'

She took his arm eagerly, a little shy but excited to have a chance to talk to him properly. He was very tall beside her, but he seemed unperturbed at having to slow his pace to match hers. To her surprise, his arm was quite cool through his heavy coat, and she noticed that he was wearing gloves.

'How long have you been a doctor?' she asked as they began to tread the shady road between the acacias.

'Many years.'

His hat brim was broad and cast long shadows over his face, but his smile still seemed to bring light with it.

'Do you like it?' she asked.

'Very much. It makes me happy, having a purpose. Bringing ease to people who are suffering.'

Susan thought for a few moments.

'I should like to be a doctor.'

He glanced down at her face. There was still a smile lingering around his lips, but he wasn't laughing at her.

'That's a very fine idea. The world is always in need of those who are willing and able to care for others.'

'How did you get to be a doctor?'

'I read a great many books,' he said wryly. 'And I spoke to very wise people who were willing to tell me what they knew. I studied very hard, in the practical and the theoretical. It is a long journey. But more than worth it, I assure you.'

Susan frowned. 'I don't have a lot of books, and most people won't tell me anything,' she said, a little disheartened.

He seemed to consider the problem. 'Well, if you like, you can ask me any questions you want. And maybe I can find a book or two that would help you,' he said softly.

She looked at him admiringly. 'That's very nice of you.'

He chuckled. 'I meant what I said to your mother. There is nothing more important than the passing on of knowledge, and when bright young people put their minds to it, no challenge is too great. I can see you're a clever young woman. I should like to do my part.'

'Are you going to stay in Benson forever?' Susan asked, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

He shook his head gently. 'No, I won't be here for very long. A few weeks, perhaps.'

Heart sinking, she sighed. 'I'll try to think of all my questions tonight, then. Can I come and visit you tomorrow?'

He laughed. 'You can take your time, I'm afraid I will be out most of tomorrow. But if you want to write your questions down, I'm sure you can leave it with the landlady at my boarding house, and I will write back to you as soon as I can.'

'Alright, I will. Thank you.'

Despite that, she asked him a lot more questions on the twenty minute walk in to town. He answered all of them as best he could, thoughtful and calm as they spoke together. Never once did he tell her that her question was foolish or that she hadn't the right to know, and by the time he left her in front of her father's store she was glowing with newfound knowledge and excitement.

'Thank you very much for walking me here, Mr Grant,' she said, ducking her head politely as she knew she should.

He bowed in return. 'It was my very great pleasure, Miss Darrow. I look forward to your letter.'

She watched him walk away, biting her lip to hide the happiest smile of her young life.