Title: New Sunrise
Summary: This is the sequel to A Little More Heart. The Cullens have been irrevocably changed, but none more so than Esme and Carlisle. After spending two months sequestered in Newfoundland, Carlisle and Esme return to Ithaca hoping that they are ready for what the future holds, but not even Alice is able to foretell what 2006 will contain. As each family member grows and changes, they are faced as a unit with adjusting to each other and events outside of themselves. Rise or fall everything depends on whether or not the Carlisle and Esme that emerged from Newfoundland can find a way forward for them all.
The story picks up where A Little More Heart left off and is also told from Esme's pov.
Also, note that although story is AU, characters are to cannon as developed in My Family is Odd, Cosmology Shifts, and then A Little More Heart.
Rating: T for mild language and relationship elements. Relationship elements contain adult themes like being parents and being married. Consequently, this story may not be suitable for younger teens.
Disclaimer: Obviously I am not Stephenie Meyer (SM). The story is mine apart from the parts she created. When other writers' stories are referenced, credit is given to them at the top of the chapter.
In this chapter the image of Rosalie's reaction to Emmett after he was turned is inspired by staringatthesky's story All That I Am (Rosalie) here on FF.
Jasper's mad hacking skills comes from Jessica314 here on FF.
Beta: kiwihipp I cannot say thank her enough for her keen eye (any remaining errors are mine, as I have a tendency to fiddle), thoughtful questions, attempts at keeping me accurate, and inspirations. This would not look the same without you.
(Updated: 11 Dec 17)
Chapter 1: Working Through Things
Rosalie's, Emmett's, Jasper's, and Alice's visit over Christmas and New Years had been a blessing. Both Carlisle and I had been glad to have the family together. At the same time, I was appreciative to have Carlisle to myself once more. Carlisle and my time before they had arrived had been healing, but many conversations were still needed between the two of us after they had left. Therefore, it was with mixed feelings that I had bid them goodbye. A part of me wanted to ignore the elephants in the room and simply enjoy the private time with my husband. Another part of me wanted to have the work we had come to Newfoundland complete, despite knowing that it would be neither easy nor quick.
It was to be expected that the patterns we had created after over eighty years of marriage were not going to disappear after a few months. Adding to that natural occurrence that time created, Carlisle and I were adjusting to the new individuals we had become as a result of our conversations and my story, both with ourselves and with each other. I had regained some of my brazen self-assured ways and Carlisle had begun to see how my imagined version of him wouldn't lead him to ruin.
It wasn't fair to Carlisle or even myself, but I would be dishonest if I didn't admit that on occasion I still got a flare of frustration with the man keeping me company in Newfoundland. Certainly my imagined Carlisle had qualities that the Carlisle with me did not. Their paths had been different, which had resulted in slightly different outcomes. The most unfair element about it was that the Carlisle with me in Newfoundland was really working hard to change and considering his years on the earth that was an achievement. His desire to improve was a testament to his love for me. Nevertheless, the flares of irritation didn't stop.
Once they had departed, we had needed to consider how the four who had come visited us were adjusting to my story, which added to the work between us. Just as my imagining had altered myself and then Carlisle, it had altered them as well, albeit in different ways and in different degrees. I suspected that Jasper and Rosalie had been the most affected, for very different reasons. Jasper's understanding of vampire's nature and behaviours had been rocked, while Rosalie had allowed the story to give her empathy she hadn't experienced before. I just wasn't sure if the alterations I had witnessed in their week after my storytelling were for their betterment yet.
Although Rosalie had not been the only one impacted by the week the six of us had spent together, she had been the most vocal about her discomfort. The most apt way to describe her behaviour would be that she was in a tiff, which had not dissipated upon her leaving Newfoundland. Nevertheless, I was hopeful that as my storytelling had improved Carlisle and I, despite the upheavals, it had positively touched all six of them as well. Although, even in the midst of my hope, I was aware that change would be difficult.
That hope was challenged when, even though the satellite phone was intended for emergencies, Rosalie took to calling once a week to ask when we were coming back. Despite there banal content, I worried about their repetitive nature.
"So, Mom, are you and Carlisle heading back to civilization yet?" she would ask tersely her disapproval apparent.
"Hello to you too Rose," I would reply cordially subtly reminding her of her manners.
I would hear her huff before she spoke again this time ensuring that her tone was one that was more pleasant. "Hi Mom, how are things in Newfoundland?"
"We are doing well, Rose. We're still working on things, talking a lot. How are your travels?"
"They're fine," she would say reminding me of Edward those months before he left to hunt humans, each time insisting that nothing was wrong, when clearly he had been bothered.
How Carlisle managed to turn two teenagers with so many similar qualities defied logic.
"Fine?" I would challenge her with a tone that told her that I expected a response closer to the truth.
"I'm fine," she would insist before crumpling and adding, "It's just not the same since New Years. I want you to come home." By the end her tone would be so sad and small and defeated.
How I wish I had the words to aid whatever ailed her. I had a few ideas, but nothing seemed to be making an impact.
"You're not at home, Rose," I would remind her softly.
There would be a pause. "I know," another pause but shorter, "it's not the same to be home without you. I'd rather travel."
"I understand, honey," I would tell her sympathetically. "Can you understand that having time just the two of us is something that Carlisle and I need to do?"
She would huff her ire returning. "Yes, but I don't have to like it."
"No, Rose, you don't," I would agree, "but you do have to respect it and us."
"Yeah, I know," she would whine. "I just don't like it."
"Rose," I would utter softly forcing her to focus on my voice, "there is no reason to be afraid. If something happened we would leave immediately. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, Mom, I know." She would sound down and defeated.
"You okay, honey?" I would ask hoping this time she would be honest with me, or at least with herself.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I got to go. Come back to civilization soon," she would nearly demand.
"Love you too Rose," I would tell her earnestly.
"Bye Mom," she would tell me in a disagreeable tone.
Some of the parts of the conversation would change here and there, but overall it was the same. And despite its repetitious nature, each time Carlisle and I discussed the conversation and what was happening with her. By the third time we concluded that the calls were her way of getting reassurance that her world wasn't falling apart. Flexibility and shifting with changes certainly weren't Rosalie's strongest characteristics.
"I don't think we can ever say enough words to convince her, Carlisle," I concluded at the end of our discussion regarding her third call.
"Unfortunately, I agree," Carlisle added sadly. After a few moments he continued, "I afraid on behalf of her, Esme. This behaviour is so unlike her."
Pondering his words I told him after a while, "It is a little like when Emmett first came into our lives. She would vacillate between extreme haughtiness, where we were afraid that she would walk out and never return, and fear that would cause her to hide in her room. I suspect that she hates being afraid and so fights it with anger, but sometimes it overtakes her."
"Emmett was exactly what she needed then, even though his presence was the catalyst for her vacillation. He doesn't seem to be able to aid her in the same way this time," he mused.
"Perhaps that is because Emmett is struggling as well. He is as straightforward as Rosalie is complicated, and prone to action as much as she dislikes change. His reaction of seeing things clearly, adjusting, and then wanted to act is much more like your desire to solve problems, where she wants to put things back to how they were before."
After deep consideration he pondered, "So they're at a deadlock?"
"Perhaps," I agreed. "Or perhaps she simply needs your assurance that you have not changed and that you love her no less?"
He looked at me shocked and bewildered. "Why might she be concerned about that? If I loved her no less through her newborn years or her murder of her attackers, why would your story change that?"
"Because it changed how she saw you. She might have woken up angry with you and hating what you did to her, but it was you that saved her from death. Like a storm she has fumed and raged against you proving and making herself in the process. But of all our children, she is the one that has never once tasted human blood. She believes in your values all the while holding her grudge, and for the first time she began to see the world from your point of view a little. Her reaction to my story was first and foremost about you. I think that the image of you that she painted in her head when she first awoken has been her anchor, and my story inadvertently stole that from her."
He looked very contemplative before he spoke. "You are describing all that I have hoped to be to her."
"She did go to school to become a doctor," I pointed out.
"Yes, we've had this conversation before," he teased. After a moment he mused, "Could it really be that all these years railing against me brought her comfort?"
"It would seem so," I mused. "She will adjust. Give her time."
After taking account of my assessment he asked, "Do you think that she'll ever be restored to the confident, daring, protective young woman we know?"
"Yes," I told him after some reflection. "It's there within her, but I suspect that her greatest fears are being highlighted with these circumstances. That is not something Emmett can help her with. In truth, the best thing we can do for her and for us is to continue with what we came here to do."
"Oh and what was that my dear wife?" Carlisle asked slyly.
Giggling Rosalie's interruption was forgotten once more.
Not to say that our physical rediscovering of each other wasn't important; it was. As a couple we needed words and an emotional connection, but we also needed the reminders that only a physical connection could give. The downside was that those hours weren't spending talking.
By the fourth call I improved in my ability to comfort and reassure Rosalie, which led to shorter conversations.
No one else ever called.
"What are we going to do about Edward?" Carlisle asked one day near the end of January out of the blue as we were coming back from hunting. The sun was up, but still low on the horizon, although it wouldn't rise far, given the time of year.
"What can we do?" I asked curious where Carlisle's mind was on this topic.
"We could hunt him down and drag him back home," he said in joking tone, but I suspected he was more serious than anything about the idea.
Nonetheless, I giggled at the image, and then frowned at what was a more likely possibility. "Would that work?" I asked him seriously.
We both slowed down keeping our hands intertwined.
Eventually Carlisle answered, "No, probably not, as it didn't work the last time Alice found him."
"No it didn't Carlisle." I squeezed his hand. "Don't worry. He's a skilled fighter. He kept himself in one piece before and this time he's got years of sparring with his brothers and training from Jasper."
He nodded reluctantly then admitted grievously and with a deep heaviness, "I can't lose him, Esme."
Stopping our progression, I turned to him placing my right hand onto his left cheek. "Carlisle, I don't want to imagine life without him. I have hope that he will return, worse for wear, possibly, but he will return. At the same time, Carlisle, I don't like having you thinking like that. You may not want to lose him. You would hurt and ache in a way you've never experienced before, but in the unlikely event that were to happen, you would not have failed him."
Carlisle being afraid was foreign. He was stable and calm, occasionally concerned, but not afraid. He hadn't even retained his fear when we had met Ephraim Black. Carlisle had seemed to have an incredible capacity to see the world half-full in a way that gave him hope when often there was none. Had my story inadvertently taken that from him? First had been our conversation about Rosalie and now Edward. I didn't want to consider how he would lead us if he was filled with fear. It would never work.
"What if I have already?" he challenged pulling me out of my foreboding thoughts.
"How could you have possibly failed your son to which you have shown nothing but encouragement, patience, compassion, and love?" I questioned him after collecting myself.
"Look at his choices, Esme," he stated briskly as if building an argument. "He ran away from us and hunted humans."
"You mean: he ran away from you and stopped agreeing with your view of humans," I contested my voice soft and low.
His face fell looking incredibly vulnerable like a stiff wind would knock him over.
"Carlisle?" I asked concerned.
He didn't move.
"Carlisle, look at me," I directed gently.
He lifted his head after a few moments as if my request had taken time to penetrate into his skull.
"Carlisle, he did not run away from you the first time," I insisted. "He did not run away from you this time."
Where had this fear of failure, this fear of inadequacy, this fear of rejection come from? Had it been within him all along? Had my story uncovered it? Whatever was going on with him, I had to hope that it would pass quickly.
He looked at me dubiously.
Continuing I asserted, "He ran away in arrogance and haughtiness. He ran away to try to run from himself. And when he returns home he will do so because he will realize that running doesn't solve his problems or simply because he got tired of running. And when he does we will help him put himself back together and see the cost of his choices. We will parent him because that is what he needs from us."
"You sound so sure, Esme," he said doubtfully. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because, Carlisle, I know our son well, and I have faith in him," I explained gently certain in my words.
"Faith he won't feed from humans again?" he asked sounding slightly dubious.
"I believe he learned that lesson. Not to mention that he managed to drink from Bella and stop. He won't succumb, but he might choose to drink from humans again. I doubt it, but it's always a possibility with any of us."
"He did stop," he mused.
"Yes he did," I agreed.
"And when he sets his mind to something nothing can alter it," he stated.
"This is true," I concurred.
"And he agreed over and over that the cost of hunting humans was too high to bear on his conscious," he added.
"That is also true."
"So, the chances of him changing his mind, especially after the temptation Bella posed, is remote," he concluded.
"My thinking exactly," I teased him.
Looking over at me, he smiled. Then he relaxed some and started walking again. He had a bemused twinkle in his eye. "Faith again, huh?" he mused playfully.
I said nothing allowing Carlisle time to wrestle with his thoughts.
When we were less than a mile from the house Carlisle spoke again. "It sounds so easy: have faith. But honestly, Esme, I'm terrified. Having faith means there's nothing I can actively do. It means letting go. Everything inside me resists this. I want to solve the problem."
His admission concerned me. Carlisle had never before, in all the time I had known him, described himself as terrified. Had these sentiments been present within him when Edward had left the first time and he had simply not voiced them? How many things had been left unsaid between us? How many lies by omission were there? These thoughts made me nervous. Carlisle loved me unequivocally and I him. Love would conquer everything else. I had to believe that.
Squeezing his hand, I said in support, "I understand," hoping that these two words assured him and encouraged him to let go of his fear. I paused for a few minutes. "You are first and foremost a scientist. Your mind sees a problem and it wants to break it apart, understand the root cause, and solve the problem therefore healing the patient. You've been doing that in some way or another for three hundred years. That is a long time. In my story you still did that, but you also allowed your heart to have a say."
He held himself attentively not contesting me, but looking concerned about what my point might be.
I paused briefly before continuing. "Please, Carlisle, I need you to hear me. Our son is not a problem. He wasn't a problem for you to solve when he was moody and angry and lost in the pain his gift brought him. He isn't now with his broken heart and his noble desire to give Bella humanity. He doesn't need solving." By the end my tone had increased in volume and I was punctuating each word.
Carlisle tightened up as if every muscle wanted to spring at me and he constrained himself. Instead he turned away from me, and entered the house clearly angry. Terrified and now angry? I wasn't sure if I liked this new Carlisle. Unable to face him, Charles' shadow hanging heavily over me, I travelled a few hundred yards and found an inviting tree. Nestling myself into one of its large branches, I stilled myself completely with my back against the trunk and gave my whole attention to the nature around me.
The passage of time was irrelevant until I felt Carlisle scale the tree. It was dark, but had it been hours or days? It did not matter in the scheme of things. What mattered was this man coming towards me.
He moved to a branch above mine and then hanging down placed himself further down my branch giving a good three feet between us. He looked at me for a while saying nothing. When he did speak it was so soft that the wind almost prevented me from hearing him. "Have you always thought what you said?"
"Which part Carlisle?" I asked quietly unable to help myself from watching him carefully for signs that he would lash out at me.
"Oh, please, Esme, please," he begged, "don't be afraid of me. Your words stabbed me to my core, but even then I had no thoughts to hurt you. Please," he pleaded.
Looking down at my hands ashamed, I admitted, "I can't help it, Carlisle. You were angry. I wish Charles hadn't conditioned me in such ways, but it is there nonetheless. You get angry so seldom and usually it's at the injustice of things, not at me. I'm sorry," I blubbered feeling terrible that I had doubted him in this way.
"Please, Esme, look at me," he requested gently. "I loath the thought of you being afraid of me."
Viewing him through my eyelashes he didn't look upset at all. If anything he looked hurt. "It's more being afraid of anger, Carlisle, than you," I admitted. Examining him more fully, I put up a finger as he opened up his mouth. "Hold on a minute," I requested.
For the first time I fully considered what was happening between us. When we had first courting he had been so aware of me, of every flinch, of ever shudder. He had responded with comfort and grace and gentleness. Perhaps he hadn't shown his anger because of this very reason–he was afraid of my response.
Gazing at him straight in the eyes, I asked him bluntly, "Carlisle, have you been hiding your anger from me over the years?"
He appeared puzzled and then had the look he gets when he's reviewing his memory. "Not that I'm aware of, but I am careful around you in that way, just like I'm careful about my thoughts when Edward is around or how Rosalie doesn't like me to touch her. I try to be thoughtful about how those things affect others."
"Healthy couples can show their anger around each other, right?" I asked needing confirmation.
He smiled sadly. "For human couples anyway getting upset at one another is par for the course, and Rosalie and Emmett seem to be able to express their anger around the other. Maybe?" he answered clearly not sure.
"It would seem like it," I mused. "I don't like that I immediately become afraid if you're angry. That doesn't seem right. You've done nothing to give me reason to be afraid. And it's probably not good for you that you, purposefully or not, keep your anger to yourself."
He looked at me dubiously.
"So, how about we try again; this time we'll just talk. You express your anger and why you walked away from me, and I'll work on not being afraid. Is that a deal?" I asked.
Smiling slightly at me he teased, "The kids are having a bad influence on you."
"Maybe," I agreed smiling broadly.
"All right. I'll agree to your terms," he stated his smile growing some until it faded and he began to frown.
I put my hands folded on my lap and pressed my back into the bark of the trunk telling myself over and over that I was safe.
"I was angry, but not at you," he began. "In my head I know that my son isn't a problem to be solved, and I would have in the past vehemently disagreed if anyone would have suggested that was what I was doing. But for some reason when you said what you did, it was like it became noise ringing in my ears and everything you said became true. I know you meant no harm and you only spoke the truth as you saw it. You have to know, Esme, that I wasn't upset with you in the least, except in the little way that a king might want to shoot the messenger, but truly I was only upset with myself.
"All these years, I've only wanted him to have the joy I have experienced. I have wanted him to be happy. I saw his unhappiness as something to solve, a sign of how I had failed him perhaps, rather than accepting him as he was. And you're right. I did the same before he left to kill Charles. I kept trying to make him happy instead of hearing that he was miserable and why." By this point his frustration had grown to irritation and then to ire.
Watching him carefully, I told myself over and over that I was safe. I tried to smile at him as encouragement, but it might have come out more as a grimace.
"I think he didn't know himself, and I do think he would have left in the end," he continued becoming instantly contemplative, "no matter what I did. I have let the guilt go quite a bit, but for a moment there I was so angry with myself. My first and only thought was to take myself away from you to protect you from my anger, and when you never returned I feared that you had left me as well. I should have known that you would have found comfort in a tree."
"So you were upset with yourself and walked away to protect me?" I checked.
"Yes," he agreed sadly. "Your words made me realise how I have failed him."
"What did I already say about that?" I asked him cheekily.
"That his running had nothing to do with me?" he said playfully.
"No matter what mistakes you might have made as a father, his choices are his own," I emphasised.
"My acts impact him. Certainly you can't deny that."
"Did your father's?" I asked gently.
He thought through my question before he answered, "In some ways his actions cast a shadow onto my life, but in other ways I acted in my own way, even though it was contrary to how he wished me to behave."
"I'd dare say the same holds true between you and Edward."
After a few minutes he agreed, "Yes, that's probably true."
"So, how about solving family problems when there's a problem, and just be present offering your support otherwise," I offered.
"Whether or not to move back to Forks is a problem?" he asked with a glint in his eyes.
I smiled widely. "Cheeky sod," I teased.
He smiled widely back. After a few minutes, though, his features grew solemn once more. "Esme, I want to ask you a question, but you may not want to answer," he warned.
"Go ahead," I agreed.
"Are you upset at me for seeing Edward's unhappiness as a problem?"
After considering my thoughts I told him, "The possibility that you would see Bella as a solution rather than a sentient being with her own thoughts and feelings disturbs and upsets me greatly. The rest is merely disappointing, but knowing you as I do, my disappointment is not surprising. Mostly it just hurts my heart to see both Edward and you be hurt so much by your disconnect. His unwillingness to speak his thoughts and feelings is just as much as a problem between the two of you as your desire to solve him. Like any relationship, Carlisle, both people are responsible for their share." By the end I was bashfully examining my hands.
"Thank you," he said earnestly.
The sincerely and depth of feeling surprised me and I looked up.
"You are so forgiving Esme, and able to see my intentions despite the havoc my actions might cause. You are a gem, truly."
I smiled slightly embarrassed at his praise.
"After great reflection I think that I saw Bella first and foremost as human," he continued, "someone worth protecting, and second as someone who made Edward happy. But I am ashamed to admit that I didn't see the girl herself much. Even after all the time in our house, I can't say that I really know her."
I nodded stiffly upset to have my suspicion confirmed. Then I frowned considering my part in the matter, "Neither do I, really, if I'm honest. I might be guilty of focusing on the joy she brought Edward and how much of myself I saw in her," I admitted.
We didn't talk again for hours each lost in our own thoughts.
Eventually I realised that like letting go of my imaginary Carlisle, I needed to let go of the Carlisle that I wished that he would be. If Carlisle was going to try stop seeing people's problems as something for him to fix, then I needed to stop holding onto my wished-for version of others.
When we got back to the house we each grabbed a book, came back to the couch, and settled in reading with me nestled into his chest, although I doubted Carlisle was actually reading. I suspected he was doing more thinking than anything.
"Could I have done anything different?" Carlisle's voice came to me suddenly sounding strangled and sullen.
Putting down my book I looked at him.
"Did you do everything you knew how to do to the best of your ability?" I questioned sincerely.
He took some time to answer. Knowing him he took my question very seriously and reviewed his memories.
I went back to my book allowing him to think unobtrusively.
Five chapters later he stated simply, "Yes," then sighed heavily. While I put my book back down he continued, "I cannot see how I could have done more at the time."
"Then that is enough," I told him simply.
"But it wasn't, was it?" he asked defensively. "It didn't stop him from leaving," he stated as if he had committed some horrific action.
"Maybe your words and actions were not meant to stop him from leaving but allow him the capacity to return," I offered to him.
His features contorted into bewilderment.
After more than thirty minutes had passed without any movement on his part, I spoke tenderly, "Carlisle?"
He blinked rapidly as if coming out of a daze. Looking into my eyes, confusion and hope swam in his.
"The only action you can do now, is what you are doing," I affirmed to him delicately. "You are working on becoming the father he needs, the husband I need, and the man you want to be. We can only hope and have faith that will be enough when the time comes for him to return."
He looked dubious. "So, I work on me and us, and that will be enough?" He said each word slowly and with a tone like they were distasteful on his tongue.
"We will hope and have faith that it will be enough," I confirmed.
He made a huffing sound like he had been mimicking Rosalie. I swore that at any moment he was going to cross his arms in defiance. He never did. Instead he relaxed and his features softened.
After a few moments he spoke faintly but with resolve. "This hope and faith thing is tough. I don't like it, Esme. I like fixing problems. A became a doctor to heal, and although there are lots of problems I know I cannot solve, fractures in my family are unacceptable."
"Dr. Cullen," I teased him gently, "some of your greatest qualities are your unending compassion and patience. Explain to me how you can have those qualities in unending reserves with individuals, but not the circumstances in which individuals are situated."
He smiled slyly like he had been caught out doing something he knew he should not have been. "Before with Edward I knew I couldn't find him, so there was no way to fix it. Waiting was my only option. This time, with Alice, I have other options, but am choosing to allow him to go his own way. To have the option, but not use it is different than not having it."
I looked at him with a mock shock. "What are you saying, then, Dr. Cullen?" I asked wittingly.
"That I'm good at appearing patient when I am left with no other option," he admitted with a light banter.
Smiling widely at him, I pondered the truth in his words.
"Truly, Esme, all those years I was filled with more fear than I ever admitted."
Looking at him seriously, I evaluated his statement. "Did you hide it from me?" I asked tightly.
Shaking his head negatively, he added, "No, my love, I was hiding it from myself. I busied myself with work along with your well-being and adjustment into your second life to the degree that I could not be aware of my own fear, but now, after your story, looking back, it seems obvious to me."
His admission relieved me of guilt that I hadn't even realized had begun to infiltrate me due to my concern that my story had caused his fear. With his words I had been assured that my story had merely given him truth about himself. Nevertheless, I suspected that his awareness of his own fear was foreign and new, which would make seeing him in that way new to me. Hopefully the wisdom that I needed to aid him in how he needed to work through this, so he could lead us assuredly, would be given to me.
I smiled sweetly my relief shining through most strongly. "Thank you for admitting this and sharing this with me. But now that you've become aware of how you did things in the past, you have a chance to change how you respond in this instance."
He grimaced. "I have a feeling that you are now going to suggest hope and faith over fear," he bantered.
"Never," I admonished lightly.
"Course not, you would never suggest such a thing," he said in all seriousness with his eyes twinkling and him holding in a smile. Then his face grew solemn. "I am struggling my dear wife, despite your wisdom and story, to do nothing but have hope and faith that these problems will be resolved through waiting."
I smiled at my husband sweetly. His struggle with this was endearing and I loved him more for it. "Well, maybe when Edward does show up you'll have something to solve. Edward has created enough problems this last year to last a lifetime. Maybe one of those will turn up alongside him." I smiled mischievously at him.
He opened his mouth in mock shock. "Are you teasing me, Mrs. Cullen?"
"Maybe?" I hedged.
He put down his book and moved towards me like a stalking lion.
"What am I going to do with you?" he growled punctuating each word.
"Devour me?" I whispered meekly.
"Always, my love. Always." He replied before moving toward me kissing me passionately.
By the time the end of January greeted us I concluded that the month had contained delightful moments, but also difficult ones. When February came we knew that we were close to being ready to go home, even though many things were not completely resolved between us. It had taken decades to get us here. It would take more than a few months to create this new us, and in the mean time we could not hide out in Newfoundland. If nothing else, Rosalie would not allow it. On top of that, Carlisle missed the hospital and I missed our family and being creative. We were never meant to be here long after all.
It was around the third of February while we were playing cards that Carlisle wondered aloud, "What are we going to do about Bella?"
"Wait and see," I answered simply after a moment.
"More hope and faith?" he asked sarcastically, but his tone was teasing and playful.
"Yes, my love," I agreed, "more opportunities to practice hope and faith."
He mocked growling softly. "I swear my Heavenly Father is ensuring I have lots of opportunities to practice."
"Naturally," I answered as if that was the most obvious thing.
"Seriously, love?" he responded contemplatively.
Putting my hand down, I looked into his eyes. "Is this not what I've overheard from preachers and attendees over the years, that when God wants to teach a lesson He does so in such magnitude that it could not be missed."
He shook his head indulgently. "My agnostic wife giving me lessons on God." By the end he was beaming clearly pleased.
"At your service," I mocked bowed. After a moment I reiterated, "We do nothing but wait to see if she reaches out to us. Alice assured us that my letter had arrived and that Bella had decided to open it. Perhaps she has not decided anything since."
"Yes, perhaps," he mused.
As happened each time Bella was the topic of conversation between us, my mind automatically replayed the letter I had written.
My darling Bella,
I owe you so much more than an apology. There were so many better ways I could have handled Carlisle's job offer than the way that I did. There is much I wish to say, but neither a letter nor a phone call would do it justice. What I do need to convey, more than anything, is that my leaving was not a reflection of you in any way. You are an intelligent, sweet, kind, thoughtful, insightful, strong, incredible young woman.
By the time you get this letter it will be near to the one year mark of you arriving in Forks. I could have never imagined that your arrival would have brought me so much. I will forever be grateful that you came into our family's life. If upon receiving this letter you decide to have nothing more to do with our family and with me, we will honor your decision. If, however, you would like to keep in touch, please find the family's new email addresses and phone numbers below. I purposefully left out Edward's contacts as he is no longer living with us and thus was unable to give his consent.
Jasper is at Dartmouth taking classes and enjoying school in a way he never had before. Much of that is owed to you. I want to thank you for all that you did for him by your presence and graciousness.
Rosalie and Emmett are travelling. Last they told me they were going to Nepal and then moving eastward. As their mother I hope that they will settle down some after this year, but knowing those two, I might be hoping in vain. Emmett told me over Christmas that the sights look different when he tries to view them through your eyes and he has found a new wonder for the world around him.
Alice has a new hobby. She's been into ancestry and spending all her free time investigating her roots. It has been fascinating if not slow and laborious work. She wanted to write to you as well, but I told her that she would have to wait for you to initiate contact.
I hope, more than anything, that this letter finds you well and thriving despite our absence, although if you are anything like me, then these past months would have been a strain. Please know that despite my poor choices I think of the time you spent in our home fondly and miss the addition you brought to our household.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
With kind regards,
Esme Cullen
Each time my mind reviewed the letter I couldn't help but count the days since Alice had reported that Bella had received it. Everyone had read it agreeing with its wording, well bar Edward naturally, since he had declined to participate in our New Years table conference, before Alice had packed it with her stuff and had mailed it from Ithaca. It required quite of bit of reading between the lines on Bella's part, but we had to ensure that if someone else were to read it that the wording wouldn't raise suspicions.
We had figured saying that we all flew to Ithaca for Christmas was a good enough cover story, if it was ever needed. Just in case, Jasper had convinced everyone to let him create the digital proof of tickets from Los Angeles to Ithaca for Alice, Carlisle, and I. Rosalie's and Emmett's tickets had already been for Ithaca as Rosalie refused to rent a car, thereby going to the home to pick up one of the vehicles before heading to us. Jasper's precautions had seemed excessive to me, but I trusted his judgement. We all knew that the letter contained some risk, and managing that risk had seemed to help Jasper feel calmer.
Coming out of my thoughts, I found Carlisle looking at me curious. "I simply wish she would respond," I told him.
"Are you lacking hope and faith?" my husband teased me.
"No, more likely patience." I smiled widely. "Which, fortunately for me, my darling husband has in abundance."
"In abundance you say?" he rumbled as if objecting.
"Yes, more than anyone else I have ever met, and certainly more than I," I confirmed as my smile grew.
"Thank you, my love," he told me warmly with a grin. "I suppose I did learn some patience in my two-hundred years of waiting for you to be born."
I giggled confirming my agreement, "Yes, I suppose that might have helped."
"I'll offer a trade. I'll give you some of my patience and you give me some of your hope and faith," he offered.
Looking up into his eyes I found warmth and acceptance and love. "Deal," I murmured.
"Deal," he stated back equally subdued.
Hours after our connecting once again physically, as we sat on the couch reading, he stated out of the blue, "Jasper really had a hard time with what you shared."
"Yes, it certainly challenged his understanding of how the world worked," I agreed wondering where his thoughts were.
"He's so private it would be hard to know how he's internalised what was said," he mused.
"Why don't you ask him the next time we see them?" I pressed.
After a moment's thought he agreed, "Yes, that would be good. He lived life in such brutality for so many years, our stories are bound to challenge some of his thinking," he mulled over.
"I would think so," I agreed.
"He's a good husband," he stated emphatically after a few moments had passed.
"I think so," I concurred. When Carlisle said nothing more I grew curious, "Was there a point to your statement, Dr. Cullen?"
He looked out the window. "Their bond and how easily they fit together is admirable. Despite his past or perhaps because of it, he is attentive of her. In fact, I've gotten the impression that if Alice said it was best and it wouldn't displease us so much, that he would risk the taste of human blood to change Bella. He really would do anything for Alice."
"You're probably right," I agreed as I had entertained the same thoughts off and on.
"I'm not that way. I am led first by my morals and values," he stated in contemplation.
"That is true, Carlisle, but I love you just as you are. I love that you became a doctor and have compassion and care for those whom our kind would dismiss as irrelevant objects. I love that you stand for what you believe in and for your convictions. Your soul is unblemished by the weight of being a soldier."
"That might be true, but although I would never purposefully end someone's life, I would end another if they threatened you or our family," he admitted with more strength in those words that I had ever heard before.
"Like James?" I questioned.
"Yes," he agreed sadly.
"Do you look down on Jasper for his fierce defence of what he loves?" I wondered.
"No, I find it admirable," he stated firmly.
"As I find that quality admirable in you. I love that you wish to live in peace, but are still willing to do what is necessary. Talk to him. Perhaps you have qualities the other does not and you could learn much from one another," I recommended.
He smiled sweetly at me. "Thank you for your wise counsel, dear wife of mine."
"Any time," I teased.
"Have you still been asking Alice to lessen how much she uses her gift?" he asked a few hours later.
"Yes," I answered, "I think it's good for her, and I believe it will help her see things differently. I suspect that she was the least effected by my story, but that's not surprising, since she lives in what ifs due to her gift anyway. They'll be fine, Carlisle."
"I'm not worried, per say, just pondering what we will be returning to," he let me know.
"A lack of privacy," I told him smiling seductively at him.
"Come here, love," he requested before he kissed me and then proceeded to ravish me once more.
It wasn't a week later, getting close to Valentine's Day, when we looked into each other's eyes and knew that we were ready to go back to Ithaca and face whatever was in store for us there.
"Darling, would you be agreeable if we spent Valentine's Day here where I have you to myself and no listening ears?" he asked surreptitiously.
I smiled loving the idea. "We leave on the 15th then?" I confirmed.
"Or thereabouts. When ever we feel sated enough," was his reply.
My grin grew. "Oh, I don't know if I'll ever be sated enough my husband," I taunted.
He smiled as equally strong back to me.
It had seemed since January that though we disagreed more than we ever had and had more tense discussion than in our eighty years prior, that our love and passion for one another had grown in equal quantities. We would never be as demonstrative as Rosalie and Emmett, but our physical needs for one another had seemingly grown.
"We should tell Rose," I told him before anything led anywhere.
"Yes," he agreed going and retrieving the phone immediately.
It went to voicemail, so I left a message. They were probably hunting.
Then I sashayed up to my husband and ran a finger along his arm. "You were saying?"
He answered with a kiss.
We hunted the morning of the 14th. It took us three days before we finally were in the car heading back to Ithaca. Carlisle drove at a leisurely pace. He called work on the way to tell them he was feeling ready to go back. Evidently many of the staff members were out sick and they wanted him to cover the night shift the evening we were scheduled to return.
"Are you okay with that?" Carlisle asked as soon as he got off the phone.
"Yes, my husband. I know how much your work means to you. I expected them to miss you."
He frowned at my use of words.
"Are you ready?" I asked him.
"Yes, my love, you gave me the exact medicine that was needed. It wasn't always comfortable or pleasant, but it has cured much of my ailments. With your guiding wisdom I have concluded that the rest will take time for our family being whole again. I might not prefer to wait, but allowing my fears to best me and dictate my actions is not what you or this family needs."
I squeezed his hand. "Truer words have not been spoken. But, Carlisle, know that although you have mental comprehension of this lesson does not mean that in the moment you will not be tempted to allow your fear to rule your actions. Because in truth, as you are just now admitting to yourself the full intensity of your fear, fear can easily be overpowering just as grief can be."
"Then I think we should turn around. I take it back, let us hide in our cabin for the rest of eternity," he teased, but once his smile had faded he looked at me with a long gaze that suggested that although his ears had heard my words spoken he was not internalizing them, which did not surprise me.
"Tempting, but no," I told him concerned that he would even tease about such a thing.
He had been a man of reason for over three hundred years, and although my imagining had impacted him and given him a new awareness, our time together had asked him to engage in his worldview in a fundamentally different manner. I suspected that we had rough waters ahead while he learned how to manage himself in this new way.
More than a hundred miles had passed when he spoke again, "I am aware that I will be challenged at times, but nothing more can be gained from stowing away from the world, no matter how tempting it might be."
Although I doubted his level of self-awareness or understanding of the difficulties ahead, I was glad for what he had reasoned out and for sharing it with me. With full earnestness I told him, "As long as you're ready. We all need you."
He nodded solemnly. "With you by my side I am ready."
It was a heavy role he was asking me to play and I was uncertain of whether I could fulfil what he needed. As the miles flew past and I mused over his statement I became concerned that he had placed his trust and faith in me instead of himself and his God. For, if he had, I was bound to fail him.
We arrived home at the time he had predicted, greeted Alice and Jasper warmly and explained his need to go to work, brought in the bags, changed, and left.
It was good to be home. I just hoped Carlisle, myself, and our marriage was ready for our return. We would find out soon enough.
A/N: Thank you for joining me on this journey. I appreciate you taking the time to read my work. I would be honoured if you would take an extra moment and share your thoughts with me. This story is very different from others I have written and feedback would be greatly valued. After all, a writer is nothing but a hobbyist without readers.