Last Visit Home

By Hoosier Mama

Carlisle, afternoon, late September 1919, Downstate Illinois

"Did you know that you think with an English accent?"

"Do I really?" The observation surprised me.

"Sometimes," he replied.

"Hmmm…I never noticed."

I folded my newspaper and waited for Edward to continue. Clearly, something was on his mind.

"Do you ever miss it? London, I mean," he asked, looking down at the floor. "You don't seem to think about it too often…"

"Edward, I've lived in this country for two centuries. The London I knew doesn't exist anymore."

"Yes, I realize that," he said sounding slightly annoyed, "but still, haven't you ever wanted to go back and…see what it's like now?"

Ah, so that's what this is about. Edward's head snapped up at hearing my thought. I finished the thought out loud. "You want to go back. You miss Chicago."

He squirmed slightly now that the heart of the matter was on the table. "I just think I'm ready." I exhaled heavily in response. He continued more loudly, "It's been a year! The constant thirst has died down." I shook my head slowly. "You can trust me, Carlisle; I know I can resist their blood."

"I would rather be extra cautious in that regard." Edward clenched his fists on the armrests of his chair, while I continued, "you're still technically a newborn; the city is teeming with people who will be tempting you…"

He argued, "I've been around people before and I haven't attacked anyone!"

"Yes, but there's a difference between a small town and a large city…and there are other considerations."

"Such as?" he asked petulantly, one eyebrow raised.

"We have to stay inconspicuous. There are people there who knew you before, who think you are dead. What if you run into one of them? And the weather…you know the weather there is notoriously unpredictable. If the sun broke through on a cloudy day when we were outside…"

"So, we'll stay indoors during daylight. Look, Carlisle…I know your thoughts! You've been thinking of leaving these woods and setting up your medical practice in either a small town in the Appalachians or in upstate New York. And I agree with you that the game would be more plentiful in either of those places than it is here; and I could gradually learn to re-enter society, finish high school and go to college." He looked at me with sad eyes, full of pleading. "But before we leave the Midwest forever, won't you please allow me one last visit home?"

I frowned while I mulled over his statements. I knew he missed his old life; I knew he viewed me as the monster who robbed him of it. Even though my mind reeled at the horrific possibilities, I didn't want to deny him a chance to say goodbye. I looked at him and sighed. "Do you promise that you will stay by my side the entire time we're there?"

"Absolutely," he replied looking perfectly angelic.

Then why don't I believe you? I thought at him. He shrugged his shoulders innocently. After a pause, I relented. "Alright, if we're running to our house in Chicago tonight, we'd better go hunting this afternoon."

Edward, the next morning, the sidewalks of Chicago

I couldn't believe I had actually gotten "Saint" Carlisle to give in. How he irritated me! My mind flew back to the conversation we'd had after arriving at his house, the place I had once endured an unspeakably agonizing three days:

"Tomorrow it will be one year since you joined me." I interrupted him. "I 'joined you?' Why sugarcoat it? Just admit it. One year ago you created another blood-drinking, soul-less monster who's going to live for all eternity."

He looked at me sadly. "I did what I could to fulfill your mother's last wish." I snorted but he continued. "Edward, I've been alone for centuries, alone and utterly miserable. So even though this anniversary holds negative memories for you, completely understandable given the circumstances, to me it's totally joyous. It was the day I took on the role of father. It was the day the Cullen Family began."

The Cullen Family, I thought to myself, snickering. If he wanted to delude himself into believing two vampires only six years apart in physical age constituted a family, I wouldn't stop him, but celebrating what happened a year ago? That was crazy! To me it was the day he had destroyed my life and separated me forever from any possible reunion with my parents. He had bestowed on me ungodly gifts, and hideous, beastly desires. Yet he expected me to live with him, learn from him, and obey him as if he was my father…but he was not my father.

I was happy to be back where I belonged. I loved the city; I knew every inch of it like the back of my hand. With my heightened senses, I felt as if I was seeing, hearing, and smelling my hometown for the first time. We had just left his house on the near north side and were walking south over the Michigan Avenue bridge, stopping to watch all the boat traffic on the river below us, before heading generally towards the Loop. The streets were teeming with motorcars, horse-drawn carriages, streetcars and people…delicious, delectable people.

Carlisle kept a wary eye on me the entire time. I was grateful that my mind reading gift didn't work both ways. After a year spent alone with Carlisle, hearing his every thought, I knew him well…much better than he knew me.

It was, thankfully, a cloudy day with on again/off again drizzle. We started to pass more and more women as we walked along the many storefronts on State Street. I expected the burn in my throat and the overwhelming desire for human blood; as their scents surrounded me I fought the need continuously. You can do it…you can fight this Edward. Carlisle silently encouraged me. Remember to walk like a human and don't ever just stand still – humans fidget. If their scent gets to be too much, stop breathing…it will help.

"I know all this Carlisle," I mumbled to him in a sing-song voice.

As the sidewalks became busier, my appetite became an itch I was longing to scratch. At the same time the voices in my head became a maddening cacophony. I tried harder to tune everyone out except those nearest us. But then I began to notice the thoughts I was hearing, particularly among the ladies making eye contact with me.

I turned to Carlisle and asked, "What's wrong with these women?"

Carlisle looked at me sharply and whispered, "What are you talking about?"

"Their thoughts about me…they're so…improper," I whispered back to him. "I mean, I'm not Rudolph Valentino for heaven's sake!"

Carlisle laughed. "Edward, I think that that's just something you're going to have to get used to. Humans find vampires extremely attractive, a characteristic that enables us to lure our prey. Unfortunately, you were already a good-looking fellow when I changed you."

I watched and listened in disbelief as a lady, holding the hand of her young son, actually turned and paused as she passed us on the sidewalk to look at my…I shook my head to rid myself of the image of my own backside.

"Do you mean I'm going to have to put up with these, these…carnal thoughts for all of eternity?" I was quickly becoming annoyed.

He snorted and said sarcastically, "We all have our crosses to bear." He looked at my sour expression before continuing. "Perhaps it would be wise for you to cultivate a more intimidating facial expression."

"Intimidating?" I repeated.

"Yes, you know…scare them. Then they won't be so enamored with your charms." He laughed lightly as if he were finding it hard to take my problem seriously. I growled under my breath at him.

"Edward, one day you won't mind it when some pretty girl you find attractive, has those same thoughts in her head."

"I will as long as I have to hear it in my head," I grumbled.

He laughed again. "Why don't we walk somewhere else?"

"Good idea."

Carlisle, early afternoon, Chicago

Edward and I were walking near Union Station when I saw her beautiful heart-shaped face for only the second time in my life. I froze at least twenty feet away. The last time I had seen her she was a fresh-faced girl of sixteen; she had broken her leg and I was the doctor on call. Her friendliness and gentle nature had made an impression on me. Now she would be…I thought quickly…24 years old. She had grown into an exquisitely graceful young lady. She glanced up and locked eyes with me for a moment, quickly looked away, but then her eyes came back to me. Did she remember me?

I started forward to speak to her, but found myself being held in place by Edward's hand on my shoulder. His newborn strength was no match for me. I huffed in annoyance and turned to reprimand him as he hastily explained.

"She's afraid of what he'll do to her. Don't approach them; you'll just antagonize him."

It was then I saw the average-looking man standing next to her holding two pieces of luggage and realized he must be her husband. The thought of the pure, wholesome child that I had known married to someone she feared made my heart ache.

"Oh no. Esme," I moaned under my breath. I thought for a second, and then told Edward, "We have to follow them."

"What? No we don't! It's none of our business, Carlisle."

"Look Edward, as long as she's here in the city with us, I just want to make sure she's safe. Come on."

We were following them as discreetly as possible. I hated to ask Edward to use his gift, but I simply had to know more about Esme's circumstances.

Edward filled me in. "Basically, he's a creep. He seems pleasant and friendly, but in private he's violent. She lives in fear of his anger.

I was momentarily rendered speechless. What could we possibly do for her? Edward interrupted my thoughts. "She remembers you, by the way…fondly."

"Really?" I asked him. "I can't believe that. I only met her that one time and it was so many years ago."

He snorted. "You do have an unforgettable bedside manner…I know I'll never forget it," he added dryly, rubbing his neck. I chuckled, and met his eyes briefly. "Anyway, from what I can tell, she kind of had a crush on you."

That was interesting. We continued following Esme and her husband until half a block later I realized Edward had vanished. Drat that boy! If he killed someone, I would be responsible! How stupidly naïve could I be? I stood still and debated my course of action. I decided to continue following Esme to learn what I could of her situation before going after Edward. He knew as well as I did that we could trace each other's scent and find each other easily.

They turned into a cheap but relatively clean looking hotel a couple of blocks from the train station on Washington. I followed them in with absolutely no plan in mind. I took a seat on a threadbare chair in a small alcove in the lobby. A few minutes later, they went upstairs to their room. I waited impatiently.

An hour later, her husband came down the stairs alone and left the building. Ten minutes after that, my golden opportunity had arrived; she walked down the stairs alone and entered the lobby, but what could I say or do? I sat undecided pretending to read a newspaper while watching her unnoticed. To my utter surprise, she walked right up to me and spoke.

"So, Dr. Cullen…did you follow me here all the way from Columbus?"

Edward, afternoon

There were three things I had to do now that I was back in Chicago and Carlisle wouldn't have approved of any of them. I needed to be back in my old neighborhood to do the first two things on my list and that's where I was headed: Hyde Park, on the city's south side. I wasn't sure how I was going to accomplish it, but I had to know if my two best friends, Stephen and Richard Arterberry had survived the epidemic. As an only child, I had loved spending time at the Arterberry house with their six kids, four cats and three dogs. Their parents had accepted me as if I were their seventh child. In my increasingly foggy memory of my human life, there had never been a dull moment there; it was all motion, color, noise, laughter, and love.

Secondly, I had to walk through my house one last time. Memories were all I had left of my human existence; I hung on to them bitterly. If they faded away entirely, Edward Masen would vanish. There would be no evidence that the Masen Family had ever lived, and that I could not bear. Maybe being in my house one more time would help keep my memories of my family alive.

It was incredibly frustrating to walk as slowly as a human, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself by running at vampire speed along the city streets. I was several blocks away from my house when I heard the thought behind me.

Oh my! Edward? No, it can't be!

Stupidly, I stopped and turned to see who'd had that thought. Oh great. Freckles, blue eyes, huge white bow in her wavy red hair, it was Virginia Arterberry, the oldest of the three daughters who were the youngest members of their family. The three girls had been the bane of my human existence with their constant giggling, staring and eavesdropping. Still, she could definitely tell me what happened to her older brothers, my best friends.

Her scent was tantalizing but I pushed that thought away and concentrated on the information I could get from her. I decided I'd only breathe when absolutely necessary. She was carrying her school books in one hand, and was trying to balance a heavy open umbrella in her other. I hadn't noticed it was still drizzling rain.

I wondered if I could handle being alone with a single human; it came to me suddenly that I was putting her life at risk, just to satisfy my curiosity. Carlisle would be appalled by my actions. I also knew I needed to leave her before we got too close to our street. I couldn't risk being recognized by anyone else. She stopped a short distance away from me, unsure of my identity. Then she slowly approached me with a puzzled look on her face.

"Can I help you sir?" Is he Edward? He looks like him, but something's not right.

"Yes, please. I'm new to this area and I was wondering if you could direct me to the Masen's old house."

His voice sounds different…and why would he pretend to be someone else? Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Of course. It's just a few doors away from my house, where I was headed."

"May I walk with you?" I asked politely, taking her umbrella while continuing to protect her from the rain.

"Certainly sir," she responded, looking at me closely, before we continued walking. His eyes! Whatever happened to his beautiful green eyes? It must have been the influenza. "So tell me, did you know the Masens?"

"Yes," I replied with my cover story, my eyes narrowed, "I was Edward's cousin."

Ha! No you weren't. I knew you better than you realize. Edward didn't have any cousins.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! She knows the truth! Now what do I do?

Ginny continued out loud, "It's such a shame; the whole family dying like that. My sisters and I had such a crush on Edward. I'm…sure we irritated him something fierce." She watched my changing expressions shrewdly. Damn it! What was the point of pretending when she obviously knew the truth?

I changed the subject. "So do you know who lives in their house now?"

"Yes, a young couple with a baby. They're on a tour of Europe right now, so the house is deserted." Why is he lying to me? Is he going to break into his old house? Maybe I shouldn't have told him it's empty…

I couldn't figure out how to get her talking or thinking about her brothers. I decided on a straightforward approach…sort of. "So, do you have any siblings?"

He's being very sly…but two can play this game. She answered my question coolly. "I've never known my parents or my siblings. I was left to be raised by gypsies."

"Oh really?" I was annoyed at the lie and stopped to look at her.

She huffed in exasperation. "I thought as long as we were telling each other stories, Edward," she stressed my name, while leaning her face toward me, "I'd make mine a good one." She crossed her arms under her books and frowned at me, daring me to contradict her.

I exhaled sharply, looked around, and quickly pulled her into a side alley with giant hedgerows on either side for some privacy. "Look Ginny, I'm not going to be here much longer. You'll never see me again; I swear it. So no one is going to believe you if you say you saw me. So please, don't tell your sisters…" She stifled a quick sob and I finally really looked at her. I had been so concerned about myself; I hadn't noticed the changes in her. The exuberant, annoying, little sister was gone; sorrow, I guessed, had mellowed her considerably.

"Lydia and Meg didn't make it. I was the only one in the family that got the influenza and survived it. Richard died two days after…well…after you did." Her eyes were expressionless and dead. She had reached the point where tears are a complete waste of time. She was numb. I put the umbrella down, held my breath, and wrapped her in a big brotherly hug. She shuddered from my cold touch.

I pulled away eventually and asked, "What happened to Stephen?"

Her face brightened a bit. "Stephen graduated in June and now he's a freshman at Harvard." Lucky Stephen, everything always seemed to go his way. At one time we had discussed sharing a room at college; although going to Harvard had always been my dream, not his. It seemed to me that he was living the life I had chosen for myself and I found I was more than a little jealous.

"And Percy? Did he make it home?" Percy was the oldest and I knew he had gone overseas to fight in the war.

"He's home, but he's…not well. There's something not right in his head. Mother keeps him upstairs…"

"Ginny, I'm so sorry," I murmured.

"Edward, are your parents still…"

I interrupted her. "No, the influenza took them both." She looked at me skeptically and I added, "Honestly." I noticed the sky was getting lighter, the clouds were thinning. I quickly continued. "Look, I have to go now. Please, please forget all about me. Don't tell anyone you saw me today. Promise?"

"I don't understand, Edward…"

"Please? I can't explain, but it's for my safety as well as yours."

She looked at me sadly. "I promise I shan't tell anyone I saw you, but I can't promise I'll forget you, because that…I never will." She reached up and kissed my cheek. "Goodbye, Sweet Edward."

"Goodbye, Virginia."

Carlisle, afternoon

"So, Dr. Cullen…did you follow me here all the way from Columbus?"

I jumped slightly and folded my newspaper; I stood up and looked at her, feeling somewhat guilty. Then I noticed she had a huge smile on her face and her friendly eyes twinkled. She extended her hand to me. I took the proffered hand and delicately brushed the back with my lips. She shivered slightly.

"Esme…Oh, I beg your pardon, how presumptuous of me. You're now Mrs.___?"

"Evenson, but please, call me Esme. Everyone does."

"Esme," I repeated, dipping my head in thanks. "To answer your question, no, I didn't follow you from Columbus. I actually moved to Chicago not long after I set your broken leg. How long ago was that?" Of course, I knew the precise answer to that, but I desperately needed to change the topic of our conversation. I didn't want to admit that I had followed her from the train station.

"I believe that was eight years ago, when I was 16. I remember I was quite taken with you." She looked down at her feet, slightly embarrassed.

"I remember how brave and caring you were. You worried more about putting your parents at ease than the pain you were experiencing. It's unusual that a 16-year old would care so much about the needs of others while dismissing her own problems."

"Yes, well…that's a trick that's come in handy since my wedding day," she said bitterly, under her breath. I'm not sure she meant for me to hear it. "So, who was the young gentleman I saw you with at the train station?"

"That was my foster son, Edward."

"I'm grateful to him for stopping you. My husband is very unpredictable; I never know what will set him off. He can be a bit of a tyrant." She shook her head minutely and winced, looking as if she regretted saying anything about her situation.

"Edward is very…intuitive about people. It's almost as if he can read their minds." I laughed, while inwardly kicking myself. Why did I just say that? Esme and I both seemed unable to filter our thoughts around each other. Change the subject, Carlisle! "So, where did your husband go just now?"

"He had a job interview. That's why we came to Chicago. If it goes well, we'll be moving here. If not, we'll be on the train tomorrow, heading back to Ohio." For a second her face betrayed how worried she was, but then her brave mask fell back into place. I needed to speak to her in privacy, so I escorted her to a sofa in the parlor, in clear view of the people working at the front desk, but far enough away that no one could overhear our conversation.

I began quietly and earnestly, "Look, I know this is none of my business; the only reason I mention it is I hate the thought of someone hurting you. So please, don't be angry with me. Esme, have you ever considered…"

"Dr. Cullen," she interrupted me. I stopped her.

"Please, call me Carlisle."

"Carlisle then. I can't leave my husband. I just can't. It would be scandalous. I couldn't bring such notoriety to my parents and the rest of my family. Do you understand?" I nodded sadly. She continued, sounding like she had rehearsed the speech many times to herself. "So even though I don't love him, and marrying him was probably the biggest mistake of my life, I did marry him. I made certain promises; and I can't change that fact."

She was afraid of her family being ostracized from society due to her actions. Knowing Esme's selfless love for others, it didn't surprise me that she would rather protect her family's image than protect her own physical well-being.

I asked gently, "Don't you have any relatives outside of Columbus that would be willing to take you in?"

"Just some cousins in Milwaukee," she replied. She suddenly smiled with a faraway look in her eyes. "My maternal grandparents lived in a small town in northern Wisconsin called Ashland. I spent some of the happiest times of my life visiting them in their house overlooking Lake Superior. I suppose if I could get away, that's where I would go." She said it to herself, still reminiscing of happier times, forgetting I was still sitting beside her. She shrugged, breaking out of her reverie. "It's getting late. I better go back to my room."

I took her hand and helped her from the sofa. She noted with a shy smile, "I see your hands are still as cold as ice."

"Yes," I replied shaking my head in mock sadness, "that's me…Cold Carlisle Cullen." She chuckled at me while I again kicked myself, this time for my lame response.

"Please, please take care of yourself," I asked her.

"I will. Goodbye Carlisle." She turned and headed for the stairs. Why couldn't I figure this out? There had to be something I could do to help her out of her situation. I decided it was time to find Edward. I went outside and started tracking his scent while debating with myself how I could help Esme, and first and foremost, why was helping Esme suddenly so important to me?

Edward, late afternoon, the Masen's old house

My old bedroom on the second floor had a window left unlocked. I discovered it was now being used as a nursery. All of the changes inside the place bothered me slightly. It was my house and yet it wasn't, all at the same time. I wandered through the rooms, sad to discover no trace of my parents' scent was still in existence. The house held nothing for me. The memories had moved on, just as my parents had. I jerked to a halt when I reached the parlor. Our piano was still there.

At last! A memory resurfaced.

"Edward you are not sneaking off to the ballpark again."

"Mother…," I whined.

"You have chores to do and more importantly, you haven't practiced your piano since Sunday."

"I hate the piano! Why do I have to take lessons? Can't I quit already?" It was an old argument, but I couldn't help starting it up once again.

"Now Edward, don't talk that way. You know it hurts your piano teacher's feelings." She smiled sweetly while sarcastically batting her eyelashes at me like a simpering actress from a moving picture show.

I spoke through clenched teeth. "I'm already my piano teacher's best student. Haven't I progressed enough to quit?"

She became serious. "Yes Edward, you are my best pupil. You have a gift for music…and if you practiced a bit more, you'd easily play better than I can."

I tried whining once more. "We're going to miss the start of the game; can't I practice this evening?"

"Enough already!" My father walked into the parlor from his study across the hall. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration; evidently we had interrupted his work on a case. "I'm tired of you talking back to your mother that way. Tell your friends that you will meet them at the game. A half hour of piano is not going to kill you."

"Yes sir," I knew better than to argue with my father when he was in that mood. I grabbed a book of J.S. Bach Two-Part Inventions, fuming quietly, and looked for one I felt like playing.

My mother placed her hand on my shoulder and uttered the four words spoken to every child in the history of the world who is being made to take music lessons against their will: "Someday you'll thank me."

"Someday you'll thank me." The sound of her voice echoed painfully in my mind. That opportunity was lost to me forever. I cherished the memory of her hand on my shoulder as I sat down in the empty house and played the first thing that came into my head: the Bach Invention I had practiced that day. I realized with a start, that I hadn't played piano since becoming a vampire. What was happening? I had never played that sixteenth note passage so fluidly, so beautifully. The sound of the instrument to my reborn ears was exquisite. I was amazed at the dexterity of my fingers; every nuance of the composer's work was here in the room with me. I remembered each note with perfect recall. More than just being amazed at my newfound skill, I found that I loved this ability in me. I ached to compose music of my own, suddenly sure of my talent.

I stopped and leaned over, wracked with dry sobs; I let the irony wash over me. She had known I would feel this way someday, that eventually I would delight in creating music. All she had wanted was to share her great passion, this primal part of her soul, with me, her son, but I was too selfish to understand that. I pounded my fists on the polished wood. I had so many things I needed to say to them: 'I'm sorry I was so immature'; 'you were right about music lessons'; 'I'll love you forever'… I hated that I had no tears. Hell, I couldn't even cry properly, I thought wretchedly.

"Edward, why didn't you tell me you could play the piano?"

Carlisle had quietly entered the parlor and I was so deep in my own painful thoughts, I hadn't heard his. I had no intention of letting him see me fall apart like this. I jumped up and ran out of the house.

Edward, later that evening

The third thing I needed to do in the city was the easiest. The city was filled with excitement over the upcoming World Series between Chicago and Cincinnati. Carlisle had absolutely refused when I had suggested we go see one of the games. I couldn't believe it! I finally had the opportunity to watch my team win the title, and he wouldn't let me go. "Too dangerous, too many people, too much likelihood of sunlight hitting us, giving us away…" Carlisle was vehement. "Stay away from Comiskey Park." He had made me promise, and I had kept that promise. But that wouldn't stop me from seeing my heroes. I happened to know precisely where the White Sox players liked to hang out after games to unwind and enjoy a few well-deserved drinks.

I wasn't sure I could handle being in a small tavern crowded with humans, so I waited across the street and did some eavesdropping with my mind. At first I only heard thoughts about the Outfit, Chicago's branch of the mob; local politics; and debates about the likely effect Prohibition was going to have on the city. The thoughts were unsavory at best; I felt uncomfortable.

Finally I realized two of the White Sox players were inside. I would wait for them to leave and get their autographs. The idea of being tempted by the scent of their blood was laughable. I could never harm them; they were the best baseball players in the country, I thought smugly.

Then, I heard what they were thinking. I felt as if an invisible fist had just punched me in the gut. I had idolized these men for years for their ability to play ball. Now I knew the dirty truth about them. They, plus six others, were going to lose the World Series on purpose in order to get money from gamblers. I couldn't get myself away from their thoughts fast enough.

Was all of humanity corrupt? I wasn't sure which I hated more, the people whose contaminated thoughts I couldn't keep out of my mind, or my mind itself. This stupid mind-reading ability was a bigger curse than the constant desire for blood! I suddenly realized that I wasn't ready for the cold reality of the city. I needed some time alone. Somehow hearing all these degenerate thoughts in my mind made me feel like an unwilling participant, disillusioned and dirty.

I was approaching a lady standing alone under the street lamp on the corner. She was thinking of me in a particularly lewd way and my brain just snapped; I had finally reached the limit of my sanity. I grabbed her upper arm and moving way too fast for a human, she suddenly found herself with her back against the damp brick of a dark alley wall, my hands on either side of her head.

"Stop it! Stop thinking of me like that! I'm a gentleman! I'm a gentleman! Okay? You got that?" What was wrong with me? Why was I yelling at this stranger? She didn't know I could hear her tawdry thoughts!

She was justifiably frightened of me and stuttered as she tried to placate me. "I…I didn't say anything…sir. I know you're a gentleman! Of course you are. A very…fine looking gentleman, if I do say so myself."

As I slowly loosened my hold on her, her thoughts betrayed her to me. How stupid I was! She was a prostitute and a petty thief. No wonder her thoughts had been so…salacious. We were both breathing heavily; both of us slowly filling with lust. For the first time I felt the connection between sexual desire and the hunger to sink my teeth into a pale, perfect neck to satiate my overwhelming thirst. I could no longer control myself; I didn't want to control myself. Her blood was mine for the taking.

How cliché, I thought, slightly disappointed. My first victim was going to be a prostitute in a dark alley; I was living the plot of a cheap novel from a five cent store. I should be wearing a long black cloak while ripping open the bodice of her dress, I thought disgustedly. Her heart raced in anticipation, clearly excited about what she figured I had in store for her. She smelled like stale beer and cigars, like the men she had been with earlier. But I concentrated on a different smell: the delectable scent of her blood flowing through arteries and veins. My eyes fastened on the jugular in her neck. I leaned in and sniffed.

She sniffed me in response and whispered passionately in my ear, "Oh honey, you smell…absolutely heavenly," she said the words with a sigh. Her fantasy of me and her together continued in her very perverted imagination and I leaned back to look at her while I shook her shoulders in anger.

"Why do all of you think of me like that? You don't know me! You don't have any idea what I'm capable of doing to you…"

She responded suggestively, "Well honey, why don't you show me what you're capable of doing to me?"

I replied immediately, "Fine. I will." What was wrong with me?! I sounded like a ten-year old kid accepting a dare!

With my left hand I pushed her loose hair out of the way, with my right I pulled the neckline of her dress down. I roughly pushed her head to the side and she whimpered, suddenly unsure of the situation. Her perfect neck was bare and exposed – all mine I thought greedily. I leaned in, my mouth open wide.

Wait a minute, I told myself. Stop breathing in her scent and think! Elizabeth and Edward Masen's boy would never harm a lady. He was a gentleman. But I'm not the Masens' son anymore…I'm not a gentleman; I'm a vampire now thanks to Saint Carlisle. I'm only doing what vampires do. But you don't have to do what vampires do. Carlisle showed you another way…more difficult perhaps, but better.

The choice was mine and I had only a second to decide. I ached to drain this human with her annoying fantasies, of every drop of delicious blood she possessed. But if I did that, I knew I could never face Carlisle again. I would spend eternity alone, lurking in the shadows, guilt-ridden, waiting for my next victim, a monster in every sense of the word.

Carlisle had been miserably alone for centuries and damn it! I couldn't do that to him. I had lied to him and mocked him for his saintly ways, but deep down, I admired him. If I was being honest with myself, I knew at times I was grateful to him for saving me. He loved me as a son and I finally realized I loved him as a father. We were a family, and in a world full of monsters like ours, that was more important than giving in to a stupid instinct. My thirst was endless. One victim couldn't satisfy it. My only chance at happiness would be to learn to live with it and ignore it, and embrace being a Cullen.

For just that second, the desire for family was stronger than my desire for blood. A sharp crack of thunder made us both jump. I removed my hands from her neck and backed away. She looked terrified, cowering against the wall. I said simply, "forgive me," and quickly disappeared as a hard rain slapped against the cobblestones; I had to get far away before my beastly thirst became uncontrollable again.

Carlisle, 3:00 am

I loved the sound of a strong thunderstorm. I stood in our house watching the lightning flash across the walls of my study. I wondered again how Edward was doing; I hoped I hadn't made a terrible mistake bringing him here. It was almost morning when the rain stopped. I looked at the study door when I heard the back door open and close. He walked into the room, dripping wet.

"So, where did you go?" I asked.

"No place special. I walked along the lake for the last couple of hours, watching the storm. I thought I'd better come home before sunrise."

"Very responsible," I nodded my head. I looked more closely at his eyes then and relaxed my shoulders. They were still golden. He rolled his eyes in response to my thoughts.

"Yes Carlisle. All the citizenry of Chicago are sleeping, tucked safe and sound in their cozy little beds. Your newborn vampire didn't kill anyone."

I smiled briefly and sheepishly told him, "Sorry." I then added, "Go dry off and change. I want to talk to you about something."

Edward returned to my study minutes later in dry clothes. We both sat down with my desk between us.

"Edward, I know you have mixed feelings about me and well…about your new life. I want you to know how proud I am of you. You've proven to me that I can trust you to control your thirst." He rolled his eyes and grimaced at the ceiling. Why did he do that? What was he thinking?

"One year ago today I made the impetuous decision to create a new vampire. I truly believe that saving you was the best thing I've ever done. Hopefully someday, you'll agree with me." I waited until I had Edward's complete attention again. "Happy one year birthday…er…anniversary…whatever," I said with an eager smile anticipating his reaction. He winced, but took the envelope I offered him across the table. He slowly pulled out two tickets to the first game of the World Series.

"I was thinking about how we might be able to see one of the World Series games. Of course this will only work if it's a cloudy day. We'll also have to stay in Chicago another week." Edward slowly shook his head. "If we snuck into the stadium when it was still dark, and found a place under the grandstand…"

"Carlisle," he interrupted me. "Thank you, but I have no desire to see a game. In fact…I don't think I like baseball anymore." He put the tickets back in the envelope and placed it on my desk.

I pondered his words without understanding, waiting for him to elaborate. After a minute with no explanation, I told him, "Well, I'm sure we'll read all about the White Sox's triumph in the papers."

He snorted. "I wouldn't bet on it."

"Edward, they're the best team in baseball." I paused to reflect on what he had just said. "Since when would you bet against Chicago?" I asked surprised.

"Carlisle, I really don't want to talk about it. Just trust me. You want to make a good investment? Put everything you own on Cincinnati. It's a sure thing." Edward looked at me sadly and tapped his temple with an index finger while a chill went through me; I was slowly beginning to understand.

"I'm going to go read upstairs for a while." He grabbed a book from the shelf as I nodded absently at him. I knew the thing he missed the most from his human life was sleeping, after all, sleeping-in was typical teenage behavior, I mused. I always tried to give him time alone during the night.

Carlisle, the next morning

I found myself lounging against a wooden pillar in her hotel lobby. I just had to know that she was safe. Around 10:30 I heard both sets of footsteps approaching: Esme's and her husband's. They had their traveling clothes on. I watched him walk smoothly to the front desk while Esme walked stiffly and more slowly behind him, as if she were in pain. Her eyes were red and puffy; she'd obviously spent the morning in tears. I watched in disbelief as Mr. Evenson spoke jovially to the desk clerk, making her laugh in response, while Esme stood behind him quietly, drying her eyes with her handkerchief.

I guessed that he didn't get the job he had interviewed for and had taken his frustration out on his wife. Fury pulsed through me. In over two centuries I had never killed anyone. For the first time, my hatred of someone was intense; so intense, I could easily picture myself crushing his neck with my hands. Five seconds passed before I calmed down enough to remember who I was. I couldn't do that; I was no murderer. I couldn't save Esme that way; she had to acquire the strength to save herself.

"Come along now Esme. You're so slow you'll make us miss our train," her husband said condescendingly. I was glad Edward wasn't here to tell me his vile thoughts. He looked at the lady behind the desk and said to her, "She dawdles all the time. Honestly, I don't know why I put up with her." He grinned and winked at her while the lady laughed in response.

And Edward thinks we're soul-less monsters!? Someday I hoped Edward would learn that not all monsters are pale, thirst for blood and hide from sunlight. Some actually look perfectly human, like this foul creature currently grinning back at his wife…his victim. Someday my son would learn that our actions reveal the existence of our souls much more so than whatever unfortunate hand fate has dealt us.

The sun broke through the clouds and was shining brightly when the Evensons left the hotel, effectively trapping me where I stood. My heart sank; I couldn't follow her anymore. As she left, Esme turned her head and our eyes met one last time. Neither of us smiled. My eyes made a silent plea, which she acknowledged with an almost imperceptive nod of her head.

When the clouds returned, several hours later, I decided to head back to the house to do some very serious thinking about the future.

Edward, afternoon

I stayed behind when Carlisle left to see Esme. My experience last night in the alley had shaken me to the core. I kept replaying it in my head; I had lost control and almost killed a total stranger. Carlisle had been wrong last night. Clearly, I could not be trusted, and worse, I didn't have the courage to tell Carlisle what had happened.

The sun shone for a while, but eventually, the gray clouds returned. I couldn't stand being cooped up inside when I could be outside. About mid afternoon, I headed for one of my old haunts, the beach. I stayed on the sidewalk doing my best to avoid the humans walking along the lakefront and the bathers on the sand and in the water. Early fall was the best time to swim in Lake Michigan: the air temperature was occasionally hot enough, and the water temperature was as warm as it would ever get…almost bearable. Plus the storm from the night before had continued east across the lake making the waves huge and angry. It made playing in the water extremely fun…and dangerous I realized as I watched from a distance.

I heard a faint cry for help. I stood paralyzed, waiting for one of the humans on the beach to hear it and come to the rescue. Nobody moved; no one else heard the cry over the crashing waves. A girl of about nine or ten had resurfaced after a huge wave had knocked her over, but the younger brother she had been holding in her arms was nowhere to be seen. I hurried towards them and quickly kicked off my shoes and socks, removed my straw boater hat, shirt and suit jacket and entered the water. I found the boy easily and carried him back to his sister. He was coughing up water and starting to cry from fright. He was only one or two years old.

The girl took him and cuddled him to her. When she determined he was going to be alright and he had sufficiently calmed down, she turned to me, "Oh Mister…thank you so much. You have no idea."

She handed me an extra towel from her beach bag and I started to dry myself off. "It was no problem. I think perhaps you should stay out of the lake when the waves are like this." She nodded in agreement.

"Where are your parents?" I asked her, looking around us.

"My mom is shopping with her sister. We're from Pennsylvania and we stopped to visit my aunt for a few days. We're heading to the West Coast for a "fresh start" as my mother says."

Her brother had a chubby face and huge brown eyes of unusual depth. He stared at me, openmouthed, the entire time his sister was talking. "Why a 'fresh start'?" I asked, curious.

"My older brother Frank died in the war, and my father died last year, so now there's just the three of us. That's why it's such a good thing that you saved Fred here." She lifted her brother toward me for a moment.

"Was your father in the war too?"

"No, he died from the influenza."

"Oh, both of my parents died from that as well." She was remembering her mother's expression when the news arrived about her brother's death. I couldn't hear any thoughts from Fred, but I guessed that that was because of his young age.

I wondered if the time would return when losing a beloved parent or brother would elicit the sympathetic response it deserved. Death was so commonplace due to the war and the epidemic; it was like discussing one's clothing choice or what one had for dinner the night before.

I had my clothes back on and was finishing with my shoes and socks while she looked me over. Oh wonderful. She was now thinking how cute I looked. And because she was just a kid, she couldn't have a thought without voicing it…

"You know what? I think you're what my mom calls a 'cutie-patootie'."

"You know, I've always longed to be called a cutie-patootie by someone's mom." I rolled my eyes at her. She giggled at me and I laughed.

"Well, good luck on your journey. I've never been out west myself, but I hear it's beautiful. Enjoy the train ride." I stood, wiping the wet sand from my trousers.

"We will…and Mister? Thanks for your help with Fred," she nodded to her brother.

I smiled at her, "Anytime." I tipped my hat to her and Fred and walked back to the sidewalk, heading north, completely gratified that something good could come from my dark, evil, vampire powers. I had had a normal conversation with them without once thinking of devouring their blood. I had actually saved the boy's life; the thought created a warm spot in my chest. I supposed even a monster could do the right thing on occasion. Still, I wished I had asked the girl's name…and learned their family name.

I strolled along the lakefront for several hours before stopping. The electric lights of the city behind me started coming on, but I ignored that spectacle and stood gazing out over the water, which had grown calmer than this afternoon. I could leave the city now. It held nothing for me anymore. But the lake was different somehow. I would miss that beautiful deep blue color; I loved the contrast, the sharp edge where the creamy white and pink clouds touched the calm dark blue water.

A huge harvest moon slowly appeared over the water breaking through the clouds and making the water shimmer. I was still standing there watching the moon rise and the sky over the lake gradually turn clear and dark when Carlisle appeared next to me.

"Are you ready to leave Chicago now?" He glanced at me for a second, then turned back to the lake. "Because I was thinking, maybe we shouldn't give up on the Midwest just yet. There's a small town in Wisconsin called Ashland that I hear needs a doctor."

I looked at him skeptically. He knew that I had read the truth in his mind. He was hoping Esme would find the courage to escape her husband and find her way there.

"Did I mention it's right on Lake Superior?" he added.

I chuckled. Even without knowing my thoughts, Carlisle knew me better than anyone else alive. I turned and took one last look at the city, no longer mine. Would the public ever learn about the World Series fix? Would the mob's violent plans be carried out? Momentous, scandalous times lay ahead for my hometown. I sighed. "Yes, I'm ready."

We started walking north along the lake. After five minutes, a thought occurred to me. I spoke impulsively. "Thank you, Carlisle."

He glanced up at me slowly as we continued to walk. "For what?" he smiled, and then continued his question in his thoughts. You mean for creating a blood-drinking soul-less monster?

I shook my head and chuckled. "No, I meant thanks…for doing what you could to save me."

"You're welcome."

I stopped after several minutes of silence and turned to Carlisle.

"Would you mind terribly if…" I swallowed noisily. "Do you think…?" He looked at me with compassionate eyes as I tried one more time to say what I needed to say. "Carlisle, can we get a piano?"

He smiled, tilting his head, suddenly understanding, "I already took the liberty of ordering one. It's identical to the one at your parents' house. It'll be delivered as soon as we're settled into our new place in Wisconsin."

I couldn't speak, so I just nodded my head. My father put his arm around me as we began the latest leg of our journey together.

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