Texts From Last Night Contest
account name: PortiaKhalo
Title: The Salvation of Sesame's Shins
Pairing: Esme and Carlisle
Rating: M
Disclaimer: This story is very sweet. I had to have a cavity filled just this week.
To read more entries in the contest please visit:
http : // www dot fanfiction dot net / community/ Texts_ From_ Last_ Night_ Contest / 79665
A/N: This is for Aleighy. She is my Story Goddess and has become lovely, far-away-friend through this process. I would never have finished this, or given it so much love, without her holding my hand.
The Salvation of Sesame's Shins
One day last year it occurred to me that I was not, in fact, the doormat of my family. They didn't stomp on me unconsciously and bury me under their dirt. Instead, I had become like an unsuspecting shin that was continuously shocked each time someone whacked me into the corner of the coffee table. That immovable table would always be there, but I could go around it. I'd entrusted myself to the same path for too long. The bruise was too deep.
I was taking classes at the local community college to inaugurate my new path. My teaching degree had served me well, but summer left me with nothing to do but sit at home and wait for my kids to get back from camp. Instead of folding the mountains of laundry created by three young boys, I was taking two courses just for me: a literature class focusing on fairy tales, and Country and Western dance.
By the end of the semester, I hoped to stun my little ones with my historically correct version of Cinderella, and be able to dance well enough to do it in public on the weekends when Rosalie, my former student and nanny, could keep the boys.
Although I should've been nervous the first day as I entered what was, essentially, grown-up PE, I was feeling like the queen bee. Rosalie Hale was my knight in shiny blue-green hair, and had walked me to class to both stake her claim and redirect any unwanted attention. She was taking a class this summer, too; one more English course before she transferred to the university nearby.
My Mommy instincts ruined the moment, however, when I turned and smooched my sweet Rose right on her mouth just as I would do at home. The gasp that echoed through the small gym was swallowed into the large, open-mouthed cackle of Rose as she skipped out the door. "See ya, Sesame!"
Sitting down on the bench, I fiddled nervously with my braided hair and giggled to myself, remembering why it was that she called me Sesame.
I was still the fresh-meat of the single parent world when I began anxiously searching for a part-time nanny to help me with my three boys. Daycare was too expensive, and I figured with my laundry list of former students from Forks' High School that I could find someone qualified. My meeting with Rose was my third after dismissing both Jessica and Lauren when they complained about getting dirty.
But my teeth had other plans. After a semi-emergency trip to the dentist on the Mental Health Day I'd taken from school, I had one newly filled cavity and a half-numb mouth. I was to meet Miss Rosalie Hale at Charlie's Chow, the Chinese food place down the street from my home. I figured I could pick up a special dinner for the boys while I was there and mark one more thing off my to-do list for the day.
Ordering a pot of hot tea had been difficult; my mouth drooped to one side and frightened the waitress. I was hoping the warm liquid would speed the re-awakening of my lips, but I couldn't even manage one sip without it dribbling down my chin. Thinking about my children's reaction made me laugh out loud. They'd get such a kick out of watching Mama leak tea from her mouth like a drooling baby!
That's when I saw her. I recalled Rosalie being a fierce, blond beauty in high school, and was taken aback by the pink-haired, heavily-inked goddess that walked into the restaurant. I waved my hand in the air and attempted a small smile for her. She was stunning.
"Mrs. Masen! It's so good to see you again!" she yelped. I couldn't help but beam at her. She'd been one of my most favorite students and we hadn't kept in touch since her junior year.
"What's the matter with your mouth, Mrs. Masen?" Her face was all concern.
Laughing again, I garbled out what was meant to be, "Just call me Esme," But what came out of my still-dead pout sounded much more like, "Jus-call-uh-sesame."
She gave me a puzzled look and said, "Ummm, no thanks, I…don't really like sesame?"
I laughed again, and dug in my purse for a pen. Unfolding the napkin next to my full teacup, I motioned for her to sit, and wrote the word dentist, hoping she would understand.
After contemplating my stupid note for a few more seconds, she laughed as well. "Ohhh, you just got back from the dentist?" I nodded furiously.
"Alright! Well then, let me just tell you why I should be the one to take care of the boys, ok?"
And she did. She won my heart and got the job, and now calls me Sesame as if I'd asked her to.
Shaking off my reverie, I looked around the room at my fellow dance students. They were so young. My fear of being the oldest person in the room was unfounded though. At least the teacher was older than me. Shimmying her hips in an age-defying way, she gathered us all at the middle of the gym and gave me a wink.
"Rose warned me about you," she said, smiling at me and drawing out more than a few raised eye-brows from the ones who'd seen me kiss Rosalie.
"I'm Mrs. Weber," she announced to the class, "but you may call me Miss Angie if you can two-step by the end of this period."
Terror, like I hadn't felt since Emmett split his head in the bathtub, gripped me. What was a two-step? I couldn't remember. It was becoming evident that choosing this class based on fond childhood memories of dancing to my Mama's country albums was a huge mistake.
Mrs. Weber began pairing up the class, putting every available male with one of the younger students, and telling the rest of the girls to dance with each other saying, "You'll make better partners anyway since you'll learn both parts!"
I was all but convinced I would be dancing with Miss Angie when she turned on the music. Mary Chapin Carpenter's I Feel Lucky started playing and I smiled to myself. I didn't know a thing about the current country scene, but I loved me some MCC.
Mrs. Weber winked at me before going to remind the guys to at least try not to trample the young ladies toes.
As I waited to the side by myself, she came up to me with a secret grin spread across her kind face.
"I didn't want you to have to dance with those mongrel boys that always sign up for this class, dear. You just wait on the benches for a few minutes, your partner will be here soon," she explained.
"But, I didn't realize we would have assigned partners, Mrs, Weber." I felt embarrassingly confused.
"I have an assistant, of sorts, who arrives a few minutes late for class due to his commute from the hospital. I think the two of you will be well suited to each other." she said.
With that she twirled away to corral the heathens and left me alone to anxiously tuck stray locks back into my french-braid.
I decided that I should be watching her feet. At least it gave me something productive to do while I waited for her assistant. Mrs. Weber was very graceful and it would have been worth the class time just to watch her demonstrate the basic under-arm turns for the students.
The song had changed to Twist and Shout, and as my mind focused on the words, Miss Angie's feet stuttered out the beat. It dawned on me in that moment, that this was the exact dance I had always done with my mother. I was lost then, in visions of red-brown hair and eyes that mirrored my own.
"Dr. Cullen!" Mrs. Weber hollered over the music. "Come dance with Ms. Esme! She is new to our class and needs a real man to show her the steps!"
I was mortified. I turned my face away from the door so I couldn't see him. Rubbing the split ends of my hair through my finger tips, I felt, more than heard, a gentle voice call to me.
"Ms. Esme," it said. "Would you like to dance?" I turned my head and blinked rapidly, like I'd been caught in a camera's flash.
My hand extended towards his on its own, completely forgetting it was holding my phone. The cell clattered to the floor; a picture of my three boys all squished together staring back at me from the tiny screen. I silently blew each one of them a kiss, and observed as Dr. Cullen's other hand, obviously superior to mine as it could save lives and successfully grip telephones, picked up my life line. He pressed it into the palm of my hand laying limply in my lap.
Finally bringing my eyes up towards his face, I drank in his features as he watched me slip my phone into my pocket and stand up.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Esme. I'm so glad Miss Angie thought to have you wait for me. Do you know how to do the Texas Two-step?"
His eyes were overwhelming. They were blue like the skies of a Magritte, but there was no funny man in a hat to obstruct my view or offer me a metaphorical green apple. I did get the feeling, though, that I'd just bitten off more than I could chew.
"Woah, Evah!", I said under my breath.
"Did you... just quote Wall-E?" the good doctor asked quizzically.
"Um, yes? I believe I did. It's one of the hazards of having robot-obsessed boys at home." I smiled, praying he would let it go.
"It's nice to meet you, as well, Dr. Cullen. Thank you for offering your help."
"Well, I hope that my instructions will have you dancing better than a beeping garbage compactor. Let's get started."
He placed me to his right, looping my arm around his elbow and pressing my fingers firmly into his bicep.
"We'll start side-by-side, so I can show you the foundational steps, both forwards and backwards. Once you have those down, I'll demonstrate a traditional hold, and we'll face one another."
I was a quick study. All too soon he instructed me to put my left hand on his shoulder as he placed his strong, but gentle one, against the small of my back.
To feel a hand holding still against my back was disarming. No one was pulling on my shirt, asking for juice or to come see some invention they'd created. I almost wished he'd be just a bit more firm, so I could be sure what was expected of me.
I Feel Lucky started to play again, and I laughed as we started to dance like true partners for the first time.
"She must have only brought one CD with her today," I mused.
Dr. Cullen chuckled. "Yes, she feels it's important that the music isn't too distracting during the beginning classes. She always plays the same few albums over and over again."
We danced around the gym floor through half a dozen songs. The beat remained the same, a steady 4/4, but the tempo changed. My heart would palpitate at the intro of each new song, afraid that I would lose count, but my feet, and Dr. Cullen's sure hands, never failed me.
"Thank you, Ms. Esme," he said when class ended. "I enjoyed leading you today. I hope to see you on Wednesday."
As soon as he turned to walk away I pulled out my cell. Rosalie Hale was about to get a phone full for conveniently forgetting to mention Mrs. Weber's so-called assistant.
Sesamejem: You didn't say one word about the teaching assistant.
Rosekunoes: What are you talking about you crazy Mama? Weber doesn't get a TA.
Sesamejem: Dr. C….
Rosekunoes: Oh! Well…I didn't want to ruin your fun.
Sesamejem: We're having rutabagas and pigs feet for dinner for that brain fart, Missy.
Rosekunoes: Do you even know how to cook a rutabaga?
Sesamejem: shut it . I'll see you at home. Love ya.
Rosekunoes: you too.
Each class after that began the same way. I would sit nervously, waiting for Dr. Cullen to arrive. Then, occupied in a daze of memories and to-do lists, I would startle. His voice always shocked me back into the present when he said hello.
He'd ask me to dance and my eyelashes would flutter like a rapid-fire camera shutter every single time. I was capturing his face in my mind for safe keeping.
After the third class, he began to pick at my armor.
"You hair is so lovely, Ms. Esme. Do you always keep it braided?" I hadn't thought about my hair in so many years.
"I guess I do." I replied, a stunned look on my face. "It became a habit when my oldest was a baby."
"And what is that braid called, again? My nieces have tried to teach me but I can't ever remember."
"This is just a regular French-braid." I touched my hair nervously, my hand quickly returning to his shoulder.
"The boys and I were reading Rapunzel last night…" I left off the rest of whatever I'd meant to say, hoping I'd given enough of an explanation.
He told me then about his nieces, Alice and Bella. Their mother, Renee, felt it was important for them to spend their summers outdoors, but didn't want to pay for summer camp. So Alice, who was twelve, and Bella, age ten, stayed with Carlisle every summer instead.
It seemed that the one detail Renee consistently chose to overlook was that it rained significantly more in Washington state than it did in Arizona, where the girls lived during the school year.
I couldn't help but gush about my own boys after that. I'd shared with Dr. Cullen a few small details about each of them indirectly, but I'd never introduced them in conversation.
"Edward is my oldest. He's the most serious eight year old I've ever known, but his little heart is so sensitive.
Emmett will start Kindergarten in the Fall. He is my shadow." I grinned, thinking of my curly-haired middle child. "Emmett is the loudest of the three, and gives the best snuggles."
Glancing up at Carlisle, I was relieved to see he was enjoying my reminiscing. "Jasper, the baby, is three now." I shook my head, disbelieving myself. "He is the one I was waiting for…he is my peace".
Blinking back crinkly, happy-tears, I gave Dr. Cullen my most honest smile. I had shown him my souls; all four of them.
I excitedly anticipated each period spent with Carlisle there after. Miss Angie's class became a challenge for us both. Once our protective walls had been breached, we incorporated our families into our dance partnership. The twists of my hair were only outdone by the way our arms and torsos were pressed together and pried apart with each new trick Dr. Cullen taught me.
"Pig Tails? Really?" Carlisle asked.
I tugged on each rope of auburn that hung over my shoulders and grinned, "My boys have really gotten into Pippi Longstocking here lately."
We tangoed that day. With Carlisle leading me it seemed simple. While we progressed through the more simplified moves quickly, but the rest of the class was stumped. Mrs. Weber tsked us, accusing us of existing in our own little bubble when we were dancing. We took that as a hint to separate and assist the other dancers in catching up.
My years as both a teacher and a mother made my new role an easy fit. The students liked me, thankfully, and if there was ever a doubt about anything that flitted across my mind, Carlisle was there in an instant. Turning me to face him with the softest pressure against my spine, he would remind me with his words, and feet, what my path was to be.
"And what is that one called?" Dr. Cullen was becoming a catalog of women's hair-styles.
"A fish-tail braid. I woke up early with Edward and he wanted to watch Finding Nemo during breakfast." I shrugged.
"It looks awfully complicated." His doctor's eyes were picking apart each strand.
"I don't really think about it when I'm doing it. My hands just follow the steps." I said.
"Well then, Ms. Esme, I have some news for you. I've asked Miss Angie if you and I could resume our study Country and Western dance in a more intense fashion. Close your eyes."
Without any further warning I was traveling to every side of Carlisle's body. I spun forwards and back, and felt his fingers knot together with mine at his waist as he lead me. With my arms held high I twirled like a ballerina, spun once more, and wound up back at his side.
"What in the world was that, Carlisle?" I was blushing and giggling like a teenager.
"That, my dear, was a Two-Step Pretzel Surprise. It's much easier to learn with your eyes closed. That way you have to listen to your body instead of worrying about how complicated it looks."
Suddenly, I felt dizzier than a kid on the Sit n' Spin. We were standing together, our hands resting against one another as dance partners' should, but his eyes were capturing me. I was on the other side of the memory camera, and my heart beat was clawing its way up my chest and out of my ears.
A small, shocked noise escaped my lips as he pulled me to him with unexplored force. His hands seated themselves more deeply into my waist and hand, and I began to fall for him, literally. He tried to shuffle us back onto the dance floor but my legs refused to move, tangling against his as we fell.
Bracing myself for the inevitable pain, I was surprised, yet again, when he spun me away from him while tugging me down to the ground at the same time. My fall was cushioned by his lap, and my uncooperative foot kicked him erratically in his shin.
"Ohhh, Ms. Esme, that's gonna leave a mark." He joked.
Without thinking, I immediately bent forward and pulled up his pant leg. "I'm so sorry." I moaned, rubbing my thumb over the small lump as I would for one of my boys. "I know how badly a bruise there can hurt. There was this coffee table in our old house that used to jump out and bite my leg every single day."
"Well then", he whispered against my hair as he wrapped him arm around my waist and hoisted us both off the floor, "I'm glad to have given your leg a chance to heal, my shin will gladly take the pain for a while if it means I'm able to dance with you."
Brushing ourselves off, Carlisle led me back to the center of the gym where the rest of the class was dancing. The melody that began as we found our places drew an appreciative sigh from me.
"The boys call this my birthday song." Brandi Carlile's The Story played softly on Mrs. Weber's sound system.
"Miss Carlile is Miss Angie's second favorite person by that name. I am the first, of course." Carlisle winked at me.
We kept our movements simple at the song continued, but our eyes danced. At the last refrain, with only a slight nod to alert me, Carlisle pushed me through another Two-Step Pretzel Surprise. This time my eyes were opened.
The next week I felt horrid. Jasper, who was attending summer camp for the first time, had picked up a nasty virus and kindly passed it along to me. It was too close to the end of the summer term to miss class though, and honestly, I couldn't stand the thought of not seeing Carlisle.
But he was late. I asked Miss Angie if she'd heard from him, but she could only reassure me with the possibility than an emergency surgery was keeping him. With a sickening feeling, more in my heart than my stuffy head, I desperately texted Rosalie so see if she could get me out of my literature class.
SesameJem: Can you tell my prof I'm sick for me so I don't have to walk over there?
Rosekunoes: Ugh! Did you catch what Jasper brought home?
SesameJem: Yeah... I feel like crap.
Rosekunoes: :( I'm tutoring The Crusher right now, but I can try to get you out of lit and bring your assignment by before you class starts! Love ya.
Sesamejem: you too. thanks love.
James, aka The Crusher, was a freshmen that Rose tutored regularly. The only thing bigger than his crush on Rosalie was the vacant space inside his head where his brain should've been. They were still working on run-on sentences.
With ten minutes left, I gave up any hope of either seeing Carlisle or hearing back from Rose. While my aching head rested on my hands, I let my mind wander. Mrs. Weber wrapped up the rest of the period.
The chirping of my phone interrupted my wanderings. When I opened my eyes to read the incoming text, Carlisle had appeared at my side. Instead of his usual smiley greeting, however, he stared at my phone with the over-extended eyeballs of a Looney Tune. The screen on my cell was illuminated with a photo of the buxom, blue-haired Rosalie blowing me a kiss.
"Will you read me that text please? My head hurts so bad I can hardly see straight", I whimpered.
Clearing his throat once, he read: "Rosekunoes: He bought me flowers. The card with it said: Sorry I cant get you off. I will try harder."
"Damn The Crusher!" I said, more loudly than I intended. Moaning from the pain my little outburst caused, I tried to explain. "I guess that means she's too busy with him to get me out of my next class. Rose has connections in the English department."
Carlisle stutter-choked in response. He just sat there, gaping at me with my phone in his hand.
I had no idea what his face was trying to tell me, and was in too much pain to try and translate it. I stood, still cradling my head, and shuffled my feet toward the gym door. Carlisle hadn't budged, and his stillness was an icy counterpart to the painful heat coursing through my head and my heart.
"Esme!" He was shouting at me. Shaking my head without turning around, I continued my shaky path to the exit.
"Ms. Esme, your phone!"
As I spun to face him, understanding his urgency, I bumped my leg into the bench that ran along the side of the gym floor.
His hand was there almost immediately, rubbing away the dull ache of a thousand bruises. "I'm sorry, Ms. Esme. Let me walk to you to your car."
"I'm used to it…", I said under my breath. He slid the phone into my palm and guided me with familiar, feather-weight fingers at my back.
As soon as I was safely in my van, Dr. Cullen walked away. I didn't look up to see where he was headed. My mind was, currently, too overwhelmed with the stirrings of my heart.
Picking up my phone to let Rose know I was leaving campus, I saw that my address book was open. Carlisle hadn't been playing statues as I weaved out of the gym building after all. His contact information was now studiously stored in my phone, along with a small request punched in in place of a home number.
"Will u meet me 4 coffee on Sat?"
My stomach did a Two-Step Pretzel Surprise, and the fog in my head made its intention to dissipate with sunshine, and coffee, on the horizon.
Rose POV:
I saw him sitting on the curb outside the gym when I walked up. "You must be the dancing doctor" I said, arms folded across my chest. "You're taking her for coffee?"
He nodded his head, his eyes registering that I was Rose, in the flesh.
"She and her boys are my world. You have to heal all four of her hearts if you want inside." I started to walk away.
"Rose!" he called.
"Rosalie" I corrected, as I turned back to face him.
"Excuse me, Miss Rosalie. Do you think she'll come with me?" he pleaded.
"Yeah, go get her, doc. She'll need to be unwound a little, but she'll be there."
I twirled my ponytail around my fist meaningfully, hoping he would understand, and spun away like a punked-out ballerina.
We met at Breaking Dawn Books in Port Angeles. I figured if coffee together was stilted after his encounter with Rose, I would browse for new stories for the boys instead.
But he'd brought me a gift. Or, rather, spent his time as he waited for me to arrive carefully choosing something. He held out a hardback edition of Heidi like a peace offering.
"She was the only other classic children's literature character I could recall, besides Rapunzel and Pippi, who had signature braids." It was a good excuse for a new book.
I touched my Princess Leia-style buns at the side of my head and quirked an eyebrow at him. We both giggled, and the tension between us began to loosen.
After ordering a coffee for each of us, Carlisle confessed his chance meeting with one Rosalie Hale after our last class together. "That is most definitely my Rose." I said.
The worry behind his eyes expressed that he longed to know what Rosalie and I meant to each other. So I told him, as best I could, that Rosalie Hale was like my daughter.
I explained that she was a bright, fiery student when I'd had her as a junior. She'd married into a family even wealthier than her own soon after she graduated, and didn't make any further plans. They all expected her to be a pretty, young, trophy. But her husband, Royce, was not good to her, and when she realized things would only get worse, she decide to leave. Her family felt dishonored and disrespected by her split from Royce. They'd planned her life for her long ago. So she came back to Washington, bought herself some armor in the form of vibrant hair color and tattoos, and started college.
Carlisle seemed so relieved when I finished Rose's tale. "I'm pretty sure the way you love Rose is exactly the same way I love Bella and Alice. I know they're not mine, per say, but they feel like the most important pieces of myself."
We spent the rest of our visit talking about the kids' favorite stories, our fingers brushing as we reached and passed books and pages.
On the last day of the semester, Mrs. Weber tested all of us over every dance we'd learned. Carlisle and I waltzed, foxtrotted, tangoed, rumbaed, mamboed, square danced, swung, and polkaed. The two-step was the last dance, and a fitting end to the weeks we'd spent perfecting it as partners.
When we were done, the younger people in our group made plans to meet up at a local Country and Western dance spot, The Howling Wolf, to have some fun that weekend. Feeling far too old to insert myself into the situation uninvited, I just smiled at their enthusiasm from outside their circle.
Carlisle put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed the stubborn knots that squatted there permanently.
"Do you want to come?" he asked against my hair. "I've always gone in the past just to observe as their teacher. But if you'd come with me, we could actually have some fun."
Twisting myself so that I could see him without losing his touch I had to smile. "I'd love to come, Carlisle. Thank you."
With too much life under my belt to feel butterflies, I was sure that painted moths and damselflies had taken up residency in my belly. Perfectly placed apprehension filled my insides and my heart thumped out a Western beat.
Rose immediately offered to stay with my boys while I went gallivanting with the good doctor. For the first time since before Edward was born I wanted to look pretty, not just to my boys and my blossoming Rose, but to myself, and especially Carlisle.
I'd planned my outfit carefully. A knee length lavender skirt with soft ruffles was smoothed over my legs, and I slipped my favorite yellow ballet flats onto my feet. I wasn't hoping to pirouette that evening, but I did want to have functional feet when the night was over. Underneath my black, Victorian-collared blouse I wore my favorite white, lace camisole. I wanted to feel special.
The boys came rushing into the bathroom, "Mama! You look so pretty!" They were sweet puppies, even when they were over-excited. Rose came to bustle them out of my way again, and I kissed her on her sweet cheek before she left.
"Edward!" I called. I had a job for him.
"Go pick me a flower to wear in my hair, ok? It needs to match my skirt or my shirt, that way I can take some of you with me."
"Emmett my Emmett!" I sang from the bathroom. Inspiration struck. I wanted to bring a small piece of each of them with me that night. Keeping them close would remind my heart that it wasn't the only one at stake.
"Baby, where is the necklace you made at school last week?" I asked my second biggest boy.
"It's in the dress-up drawer, Mama." His scraggly voice always made me smile.
"Go get it, love. Can Mommy wear it to go dancing tonight?"
He nodded his bobble head and ran into his room.
"Rosalie, can you bring the baby in here with me?" I called from the doorway.
"Mama I NOT a baby. I'm big, Mama, see?" Jasper held out his tiny arms and showed me just how much he'd grown.
"You're still my baby, Mr. Jasper. Now, Mommy wants to bring Barney to dance tonight. He can take a nap in my purse. What do you think?"
"I fink...I fink you can take the puppy instead. Barney is taking a nap in Rosie's bag right now and he is busy, Mama."
I laughed and touched his round cheek with the back of my hand. "Can Mama have a kiss?"
He stood on his teeny toes and pooched his sweet lips toward mine. I smacked them with my own, the noise resounding in my heart. "Go get puppy..."
When the stuffed animal was comfortable in my purse I asked the boys if they wanted to have a dance party before I left. It was one of their most favorite things.
Edward was in charge of the music as always. "Mommy, we should listen to King of the Rodeo because you are going dancing like that, right?"
"Right."
I pulled up the video on YouTube and sat down on the couch with my comb, ponytail holders, and bobby pins. While the boys leaped and hopped and shook their tushes, I parted my hair down the center with my comb.
Splitting the mass in half I began braiding each side into a thick rope. "Shake your boobies, babies!" Rosalie shouted, and I cracked up.
Wrapping each pigtail up and over my head, I pinned them into place and caught Edward's eye. He ran into the kitchen and brought back a red silk flower.
"I know it's not the same colors as your fancy clothes, Mommy. But I just thought the red was pretty for you tonight. I found it in the flowers from your Frida Halloween costume that's in our toy chest."
"Thank you, my love." He was the most precious gift.
I pinned the flower into the braid on the right side and gathered all four of my hopeful hearts to me on the couch. "Family sammich!" Emmett squealed, and we all squeezed each other tight.
Walking into the dance hall I felt changed. The different air altered my breath, making it shallow and audible. The vibrations of the music playing over the sound system swirled up through my sunshine shoes and into my belly. I saw him then, and went to him without pause. Carlisle was dressed casually cowboy, which made this night feel more formal than any class period we'd twirled through.
"Let's dance, Ms. Esme. That's what we're here to do." He took my hand and escorted me to the floor.
Our movements felt like wet lace, intricate and heavy, but so beautifully pulled over and through our limbs. I was free with him and with my body. We didn't need to topple over each other, again, for me to see that he was leading us toward something more than college dance partners.
An up tempo song erupted from the speakers above us and our fingers slurped the anticipation from the air and stored it, as we waited to pounce on the dance floor. Carlisle reminded me of the animated dog in that treat commercial waiting for his bacon. "It's Bacon!" his pent-up energy screamed. I giggled to myself as the thought skipped across my frontal lobe, realizing that I was the bacon in this situation, and that they were actually called "beggin' strips", which also seemed appropriate.
With a nod of his head and quirk of my eyebrow, we moved to floor and proceeded to run through every turn I'd ever learned, and a few he sprung on me in the spur of the moment. As long as I could feel his hand at my back, I knew I'd follow through every spin without stumbling or losing the beat.
The table where the rest of our class had slowly gathered was full. They'd completely forgotten we were even there, much like they all disappeared when Carlisle and I were together during class. One chair was left at a table toward the back, and Carlisle swiftly guided me there.
But when we reached it he just stood there, looking at the chair, his forehead creased with deep thoughts. With a heavily exhaled breath he looked at my confused face.
"I know that the gentlemanly thing to do would be to just offer you this chair and stand while you rested. But really, I'd rather we shared. If that's alright with you."
So I smiled, sat down off to one side of the wooden seat, and patted the small space next to me, trying to be encouraging. I had clobbered his leg once, but I was sure that I'd never bitten him. He didn't appear any less distressed by my acceptance though. Rubbing his chin and strumming the fingers of his other hand, he was a fidgety statue once again.
"It's really alright Carlisle, I have to share my seat very often with the boys. I don't..."
Before I could finish, he scooted into the space I'd left for him and without stopping to over-think, pulled me up and into his lap.
"No, sweet Esme, like this." he said from behind me. It was closer than we'd ever been in any classroom arrangement.
"Is this okay?" He asked my ear. She was listening intently, just like every other piece of me down to the follicles of my hair.
It was light years past okay. He needed to know how comfortable I was in this space he'd placed me. So with a quiet yes, I patted the side of his left leg. It wiggled out it's own dance, independent from it's matching partner underneath me. Finally, Carlisle let out the breath he'd been holding since his lap became my cushion.
I forgot I was wearing a skirt, much less that I couldn't touch the floor anymore. Nonchalantly I tried to hastily cross my right leg so there would be no accidental flashing of the guests around us. My balance failed me once again though, and as I ungracefully slung one leg over the other I winced. The table was much closer now that I was in Carlisle's lap and my knee and the table were about to have a disagreement. All I needed was a giant bruise on my knee when I got home, but Carlisle's hand shot out and grasped my knee.
"Careful, Mama." he whispered in his gentle voice. His hot hand pressed my right knee down over my left thigh and stayed there.
I squirmed without thinking where it was my rear was resting. I heard him clear his throat and laughed, "I'm sorry Dr. Cullen, you hands are so warm, and I'm not used to sitting in some one's lap."
In a very serious, business-like voice he joked, "Well, Ms. Esme, we could always switch places if that would make you more comfortable."
I moved to stand up in the silliest fashion I could manage and he pulled me back against him again.
"Please stay."
It was all he needed to say.
Even so, I was unsure of where to put my hands. As they twitched anxiously in my lap, his fingers rested lightly on my hips. A good song began to play and I wiggled enthusiastically, hoping this time it wouldn't startle him.
"This is Carlene Carter!" I yelled over the music, turning my face to where he was perched behind me.
"Did you know she is June Carter Cash's daughter? The boys and I googled it last week when we found my old CD."
I could feel him smile against my hair before he moved his chin to sit against the skin between my neck and my shoulder. The same hand that kept me from bruising my knee returned, and his fingertips left ever-fading white polka dots on my skin as he tapped the rhythm on my knee. I thought of poor Hansel's breadcrumbs, disappearing in the morning, except I didn't want to find my way back.
A song that I remembered from my Mamas records came on then, and I finally relaxed my back against his chest. As he leaned back into the seat to allow us more room in this strange new dance we'd started, he untangled my hands from my lap and squeezed each of them in his own. I pressed my palms into his, wanting that small comfort again after so long. Sensing that the step had been accepted, he slowly laced our fingers together and pulled all four of our arms around my middle in the most tender embrace. My eyes welled with the possibility of tears, but I was too giddy even for the happiest ones to emerge.
Then I felt his lips at the very center of the back of my neck. My braids had begun to unravel during our last dance, and one long tendril now fell down my back. He kissed me there, tentatively, and then again, three times, as I sagged against him in the seat. The sugary-sweet feeling of being cherished overwhelmed me. I turned my cheek toward his face and he kissed me there too, feeling the traitorous warm tears pool in his cupid's bowl. I rubbed my calf gently against the bruise I'd left when we fell. He was my wounded healer.
As the music changed again he asked if I'd like a bottle of water. It was verging on sweltering in the dance hall, and not just because we were so close together. Extricating himself from underneath me, he made sure I was comfortable before kissing my hand and beginning the long, crowded trek to the front of the building where the bar was.
My neck was dripping in a rather unladylike way, and I clawed at the buttons on my high-necked blouse to get some relief. Feeling braver that I had when I chose the outfit, I undid enough buttons that the lace camisole underneath was visible, as well as a fair amount of Mommified-cleavage. I checked my phone to be sure Rose hadn't called about the boys.
Scrolling through her messages to pass the time, I found the one that she sent about James and his stupid flowers the day that Jasper was sick. It was that day that things between me and Dr. Cullen began to change, and my hands were sending him a message before my brain could even complete the thought.
Sesamejem: No, we aren't here to dance. We are here to have fun.
I set his phone, that he'd left me to watch, back on the table face down. If he read the text too soon my silly, spontaneous, plan would fail. Waltzing up to the DJ booth halfway across the room I requested The Boot Scootin' Boogie and crossed my fingers.
Carlisle finally made it back to the table as the first notes of my request began to hum through the sound system. I grabbed the water and drank it down in four huge gulps. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I winked at him, pointed to his phone, and trotted out to the dance floor alone.
I was so glad that Miss Angie made us learn that cheesy dance! I jumped, hopped, turned, and slapped my day-glow shoes, feeling the ruffles on my skirt flip the way they were designed to.
I turned my head back toward our table and saw Carlisle staring at me slack-jawed. Throwing my head back with laughter I mimed the universal signal for phone against my ear and pointed to the table, my feet miraculously keeping up with the steps.
There was another rotation of movements before I could peek at him again, and when I did, he was sitting back in our chair, his hand rubbing his handsome face, a smirk poking out between skilled fingers.
As we watched each other, I felt the slight pop of my bobby pins as they gave up their fight with my bouncing head. I pulled my flower out before it had a chance to fall and kissed it tenderly, remembering my babies at home. The beads Emmett let me borrow bopped out a beat against my chest and I shimmied my shoulders, rattling them in time to the music.
When I finished dancing like a fool I retreated to our table; severely disheveled pigtails drooping from my head. "Can I have my seat back now?" I asked playfully.
Carlisle opened his arms to me and I lowered myself back into my lap.
I really did need help with my hair. I felt my way down my own legs until I found his hands and brought them up to my head.
"Will you help me take these out? They held on as long as they could, but I know they look ridiculous right now."
He kissed the side of my mouth as soon as my last word slipped out, and began pulling the elastic from my right braid. Quickly, with practiced hands, I unraveled the left side of my locks. Carlisle took him time loosening every twist and turn of my hair, the tenderness he felt for Alice and Bella coming through his fingers.
With tired legs I gingerly stood again and shifted so he could see me in profile. Flipping my head upside-down, I shook out all of the sweaty waves attached to my head, gathering them at the crown. A messy bun materialized on top of my head as I righted myself again.
Before I could sit back down Carlisle stood as well, clutching my waist and pulling me into his chest. My salty neck was seasoned liberally with his wet, open-mouthed kisses. It felt so good… I twisted in his arms so I could see his eyes, wrapping mine around his neck. He kissed me again, where my jaw met my ear, and whispered hoarsely.
"I think the having fun portion of the evening would be more appropriate elsewhere, sweet Esme."
Laying my cheek on his shoulder, I spoke into his neck. "I think so too, Dr. Cullen, but the boys are waiting for me at home."
He groaned like a hormonal teenager which made me chuckle against his skin.
"Are we too old to make our elsewhere my van? Then, if you wanted to, we could go back to the house and have some ice cream with the boys and Rose."
I didn't want to seem to excited, but my own internal teenager was screaming for him to kiss me properly.
"In my professional opinion, I see no reason why we aren't capable of making use of one of our vehicles this evening." He mocked. "And I'd rather not do anything in front of Rosalie that would anger her. I have a feeling she's a bit over-protective of you."
He smiled and brushed his thumb above my lips. I was glistening in a much more gender specific way after pulling up my hair, but it was still as hot as hell in The Howling Wolf.
"So do we want to imagine ourselves as cool adolescents and loiter in my BMW? Or take advantage of the comfort of your van like smarties?"
I adored playful Carlisle, and wondered if he'd ever had this kind of opportunity the first time around.
"I would always rather be comfortable than cool."
I dangled my keys in front of his face and looped my puppy-carrier of a purse over my arm. Walking with his hand at my back, he lead us to the exit and out to my van. Never since it's purchase five years ago had I been so over-the-moon for all that leg room.
But my parts were more worn out than I realized, and when I bent down to open the already unlocked passenger door, I wobbled and dropped the keys. Carlisle crouched behind me to pick them up, and as he rose, ran his fingers up my right shin, swirling them around my knee-cap, and back down my quivery calf. I was frozen under his spell with my mouth slightly ajar, like a door cracked open in case of mid-night company.
"I wanted to open the door for you anyway, sweet Esme."
With his hands on my hips, he ushered me into the unfamiliar front passenger's seat and walked around to the driver's door.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
My laugh was so explosive it was almost painful.
"Yes, please join me Dr. Cullen. Welcome to my van." I couldn't stop laughing.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself I looked to his face. His Polaroid eyes were flashing my own image back at me so clearly there was no need to shake it. I tucked my legs up into the seat and turned in his direction.
"Ms. Esme, if I kissed you right now, would you let your hair down?"
That wasn't the question I was expecting, and he registered the confusion on my face with a warm grin.
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your long hair..." They were sing-song, lullaby, fairytale words, spoken to my real-life heart.
He wrapped my face in his hot, hot hands and drew me so close our noses met like Eskimos.
"Are you going to climb up if I do?" I asked.
This had to mean something more if I was going to let down my guard.
His mouth answered without words. My lips, so out of touch with these kinds of touches, bumped and crushed against his until we found our rhythm. All four of our hands met at my crown in an indistinguishable movement of limbs. We stretched the elastic trapping my tresses out and around three times before they finally fell.
"I'm not climbing up, Esme." He whispered, so close to my lips.
"I'm bringing you back home."
~~ the end ~~
--Thanks :). I can't believe I forgot to add this! VanPireNZ, without your help in the beginning this would of been a complete mess. You were an angel! I hope you enjoy the rest of it :)