After the Vote

Esme sat quietly, her fingers flying over her latest needlework project. Carlisle knew her habits, knew that she did the needlework when she wanted to think something through, worked on knitting when she was extremely worried, worked on quilting when she was angry, which wasn't very often (fortunately, he thought). At night, when the rest of the world was sleeping, his family tended to do quiet things in their rooms, allowing them time away from each other and from the cares and stresses of whatever the day had brought with it. Often, he worked at the hospital at night, volunteering for the late-night shifts when other doctors would be less attentive with their ill charges. He would pretend to sleep in the small room off the emergency suites and then be miraculously wide awake when someone needed him. In this small town, of course, there wasn't much in the way of trauma or car accidents or gang shootings, but people still got sick in small towns, especially at night. But since their hasty return from "L.A." only two days ago, to await for Edward, Alice, and Bella to (please, God) return from Italy, he hadn't started working there again yet.

Esme did all these projects and donated them to charity groups who would, in turn, give them to people less fortunate than they were. She often said that she had unlimited time and unlimited years and she wanted to do something productive, something kind and decent. Carlisle sighed and looked down at the book he had open in his lap. He read, a lot, explaining to her that he was expanding his knowledge of the medical field so he could better treat his patients. She would just smile and nod because most often he was reading mystery novels ("with a lot of gore, though, Esme") and she would never criticize him or his taste in entertainment.

He couldn't concentrate on the story tonight, though. The bizarre scene that had just played out in their dining room a while ago kept running over and over in his mind.

"What are you thinking?" Esme's voice was soft, worried, strained. Carlisle looked at her again.

"I'm not really sure. Did I say the right thing? Did I do the right thing? Promising to change her? He's so angry . . ." (He didn't have to mention the destroyed big-screen television lying in pieces down in the living room. They'd all paused to mourn its loss after Edward took Bella back home.)

"He is angry, but I don't think he's angry with you."

Carlisle sighed. "I wish I could . . . I don't know what to do, what is right, in this case. I'm confused, Esme. I don't like this feeling."

"Yes. I think we all feel the same as you do."

"I love her . . . you know, like she was one of our own. Does that seem strange?"

Esme shook her head slowly, putting the needlework down on the side table and leaning forward to grasp his hands. "No. Not at all. I think most of us feel that way about her. Alice loves her. Emmett loves her. Jasper likes her a great deal. I love her. I think even Rosalie is coming around."

"But I've never condemned . . . never forced anyone into this life that wasn't already dying. I always felt it was more merciful to give them some life rather than none. But to take a healthy girl . . . ." His voice trailed off and he stared at his hands. Esme said nothing and Carlisle frowned again. "To take a healthy girl away from parents who love her and all the things that she could be in life. I'm not sure I can."

"Then why did you agree?"

"She was miserable without him. He was suicidal without her. How can either of them go on in this limbo? And it is limbo – in the true sense of the word – not heaven and not hell. I thought, I don't know, I thought that maybe when I said I would, she would –"

"Change her mind?" Esme interrupted him.

"Maybe. Or flinch. Agree to wait another few years." He chuckled darkly. "Truthfully, Esme, I sort of wonder if she wouldn't wind up killing herself accidentally in any case. If I just stay nearby, maybe I can just catch her before she's completely gone."

"Oh, Carlisle! I can't believe you just said that!" but she chuckled as well, softly. It really wasn't that funny, but considering how often Carlisle had had to stitch Bella up, it wasn't far from the truth.

They sat quietly for another few minutes both thinking their own thoughts. "The thing is-" he finally said. "They're both right. Edward's right and Bella's right and I don't know who's more right than the other." He closed the book and linked his fingers together. "They love each other. No one can deny that."

"No. I've never seen him happier than when he's with her."

"But – to fall in love with a human girl! It's insane."

"He didn't want to. It just happened."

"I am well aware of how it happened, Esme, it's just . . . It shouldn't have happened. Maybe we made a mistake putting him in school at all. Maybe it's our fault more than anyone's."

"They would have found each other, Carlisle, in school or out." He looked at her with a question in his eyes. "Remember what Alice said Aro said about them? "Her blood sings for him."

"Yes, but-"

"No buts. They were destined for each other."

"I'm not sure I believe in that sort of a destiny."

Esme leaned forward again and touched his knee. "But you do believe in God."

"You know I do."

"Then they were created for each other. Does that seem more in line with your sensibilities? Created for each other – finding each other across time and space and-"

"Esme! You make it sound like a bad romance movie!"

"Maybe I didn't say it right but . . . ." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I love you. I didn't just fall in love with you because you saved me from death. Like you, I think if I had died that day after I jumped, I would have gone to heaven, seen my baby and my mother, so death did not frighten me. And if I had woken from the changing and looked at you and told you I never wanted to see you again, you would have let me go, right?"

"I suppose I would have."

"I know you, Carlisle. You would have. But, we looked into each others' eyes, into each others' souls, and we knew. Knew that we could love each other. I didn't even know your name, nor you, mine."

"True."

"And what about Rosalie and Emmett? Two more different people – well, they never could have met in mortal life. But, they found each other. And they're happy."

"Alice and Jasper."

"Exactly. Proving my point yet again."

"But how can we overlook so easily what Edward wants? He does love her and wants to do what is best for her. Doesn't his leaving, misguided as it was, prove that to be true? Can I just ignore that part of things? He loves her and would love her as long as she lived, if we left her alone."

"With a love that can never be complete though, Carlisle, never be fulfilled. They could never be together in any sort of physical way, always having to fear for her life, always having to protect her from himself and the rest of us. What kind of life would that be for either of them?"

"That's true."

"And they couldn't be together for too long in any case. Her parents would start to get a bit suspicious, I think, if by the time of their tenth anniversary, Edward still looked 17 – not to mention that none of the rest of us looked any different. She'd have to be away from her family in a year or two anyway."

"If they stayed together."

"Oh, Carlisle, would there ever be a question of us separating them again, or of them separating themselves? That will never happen as long as Edward has strength in his body to prevent it."

Carlisle sighed again. "She is in a great deal of danger. We all are, really. Changing her would fix that."

"Yes, it would."

"I think Bella is the more sensible of the two, in some ways."

Esme chuckled, lightly this time. "Well, she's a woman. We tend to be a bit brighter than men, really."

Carlisle laughed, a deep, full laugh in response, and launched himself across the small space that separated him from his wife, gathering her close against his hard chest. His four children (who were at home – the fifth one was where he needed to be, which was not here) heard the laugh and the thud and the subsequent giggling and tried to ignore the reality of what their parents were doing behind closed doors. It wasn't easy.