I couldn't decide which was worse: Edward meeting my mother, or my mother meeting Edward. Technically it wasn't their first meeting, but it was their first official meeting, far extending past the general introduction, handshake, and forced small talk--the confusing hours spent at the hospital were mostly devoted to concern and not a calculation of one another. However, indecision aside, Renée had invited Edward and I to dinner at her hotel, and there had been no time for a well-constructed refusal. Sparing little thought on the matter, I'd accepted her offer when she'd called me from her room with plans for the evening, and now there was no way I could possibly back out.
The air in Edward's Volvo was constricted with tension, but not enough to obliterate every last spark of desire that floated between the two of us and wrenched my insides. A wave of longing swept over me as my arm brushed ever-so-gently against Edward's, one touch of his arctic skin sent my stomach into a tumult of somersaults. I winced at my own craving, my own passion, and pulled my arm away before he could pick up on my desire.
" What's wrong?" Edward asked, diminishing the unwavering silence that had settled in the car. He had the irritating ability of frequently being able to sense exactly what was on my mind. I wasn't sure if this was because of my easily deciphered facial expressions, or the intimacy between us, but sometimes---most times---I wished I wasn't so easy to read. At least my thoughts weren't easy to read in the literal sense like everyone else's was to Edward.
" Nothing," I lied, wringing every note of anxiety from my tone in hopes of sounding firm and controlled, which was quite opposite from how I was actually feeling. The hotel was less than fifteen minutes away, and I was trying to devise a plan in my head before we arrived. Close proximity to Edward, though, always sent my mind into a state of disorder.
" Have I ever told you that you're a horrible liar?" Edward said, his voice smooth and gratifying.
" Have I ever told you that you're a reckless driver?" I retorted, suddenly noticing that the speedometer read an alarming 80. I glanced out the window, but all I saw was a blur of sylvan green.
" Bella," Edward began, his voice sounding all too bemused. "When will you learn that there is a difference between reckless and fast ?"
I couldn't muster an adequate response, so I resumed my mental planning with a mere eye roll, one he'd certainly catch. The digital clock read 6:43 in sharp blue numbers. Our dinner was scheduled with Renée for seven.
Best-case scenario involved Edward and I pulling up to the Hilton smoothly, the car driven to a vacant spot by the valet. The two of us would exchange vigilant glances, and Edward would confess how excited, yet nervous, he was to really get to know my maker. I would assure him that everything would work out fine. We'd stroll past the lobby, arms linked, and emerge through the doors to the dining room.
Once reaching our destination, Edward would locate my mother. He would give my hand a quick squeeze, and we'd join Renée. Then, five minutes of friendly conversation would ensue. I'd ask Renée about her flight, and she'd ask about Charlie. Edward would compliment her with every opportunity presented, and she'd make a remark about his good looks, for which he'd humbly thank her.
Then, the waiter would take our orders. Renée and I would ask for Shirley Temples and some variation of a chicken dish, and Edward a glass of water and a crisp salad, keeping his actual cravings a well-buried secret. Surely, even the Hilton couldn't cater to Edward's... unconventional needs.
While we'd wait for the food to arrive, Edward would work his innate charm on Renée, recalling humorous anecdotes, many on which would involve me--- and probably my poor athletic abilities or a notorious public fumble. Always an amusing topic. Edward would be his usual polite, enchanting self, and Renée would fall effortlessly into his trap. She'd love him, and commend me on my taste in guys. We'd eat our dinner, which would be fantastic, at least to Renée and I, and order dessert. More easy-flowing conversation, and then, the night would come to a sad end, each of us equally as reluctant to part ways.
This was how I envisioned the perfect evening, and I prayed that it would unfold as successfully. I couldn't, though, banish the ominous fear that something was going to go terribly wrong.
I could feel Edward's gaze flicker over to me for a few seconds. " You really should wear your hair like that more often."
A blush blossomed in my cheeks involuntarily. I lifted my hand to my hair, which I'd hastily braided into a long plait before dashing from the house. It was nothing straying too far from the ordinary.
" Thanks," I mumbled. Edward gingerly swept a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes remaining on the road all the while. My legs tingled.
How was it even possible that Edward, a vampire in possession of the most sublime, wondrous beauty I'd ever laid eyes on, was interested in me, loved me?
We sat in a sweet, serene silence for five minutes, and then, Edward's Volvo glided gracefully into the Hilton's driveway. This area, just outside of Forks, was evidently not exactly what you'd call a hot tourist site, and the parking lot was to show for it. The entire lot was vacant, except for four cars.
" Hmm. No valet," Edward commented absently, veering the car into a spot close to the entrance. The first difference between reality and my dream scenario had appeared.
Edward climbed out of the car, and appeared before my door with unnatural, one benefit of having a vampire as a boyfriend that I'd grown to tremendously appreciate. He lent me his hand to help me rise, and then bent down to give me a quick, yet deeply satisfying, kiss. " You look amazing," he whispered, his breath winnowing in my face. I inhaled his scent, and my knees buckled.
Edward laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. " Not sick of me yet, I see," he said, only half-jokingly. Often I felt that he was waiting for me to reject him, both with dread and desperation. I didn't care, though. I couldn't imagine a time I'd ever be sick of Edward Cullen.
" You caught me," I said sarcastically. His face, for the briefest of moments, looked panicked. " Actually, no, not yet at least. The real question at hand is, are you sick of me yet?"
Edward cringed, and didn't answer my question. Instead, he took my shoulders in his hands, looked keenly into my eyes, and gave me another kiss, a more passionate kiss. I tried to hide my colossal disappointment when he tore his lips aversely from mine.
" So, is there anything I should be aware of before meeting your mother?" Edward asked as we walked below the arch above the main entrance. I shook my head.
" All right, then. I'm prepared. Impeccable manners? Check. Immaculate appearance? Check. Insatiable appetite---" Edward flashed me a devious grin--- "Check."
Judging by the rich butterscotch color of his irises, I presumed that he had recently fed. I had to be particularly cautious around him when his eyes were a threatening steely black, when he was at his most dangerous. Tonight, though, they were warm and golden, mesmerizing and magnetic.
" I can't believe we're doing this," I moaned abruptly. Edward peered over at me, his features rearranged in concern. " I mean, what if she embarrasses me, or something goes wrong."
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
" I see you have never done this before."
" Bring a boyfriend to dinner with my mom? No, not exactly." He laughed at me openly, which was comforting in a twisted way, despite my embarrassment about my obvious lack of experience.
" Don't worry, Bella," he said, cupping my chin in his hands. His amber eyes bore into me, penetrating every frantic worry that coursed through my body. I could feel my heartbeat quicken, and I'm sure Edward could.
" Of course, Renée will like you. Who doesn't? But, it'll just be strange," I told him honestly, but I couldn't quite express my concern. As a matter of fact, my conflicting emotions hardly made sense to myself.
Edward clasped my hand in his, and guided me through the lobby, a sea of antiquated tiles, leather armchairs, and abstract paintings that hung from the wall. Behind the concierge desk sat a woman, who couldn't be any older than twenty-five. She eyed us suspiciously as we passed, but didn't intervene. Besides his flawless good looks, Edward naturally maintained a controlled, authoritative demeanor, of which I'm sure even she noticed.
The words "Dining Room" were engraved on a brass plaque that was nailed to the wall, along with an arrow pointing to the left. We rounded the corner.
" That smell," Edward said vaguely. I was immediately stricken with alarm. What smell? As immature as the thought was, I feared he was referring to blood. My stomach tightened. Please, I begged him mentally. Not blood.
" Hmm?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light. I was being stupid, I realized, but every instinct in me told me to be especially wary tonight.
" It smells very...fresh." Like fresh blood? I gripped his hand with a surprising strength.
Edward looked at me curiously, and I could tell by the glimmer of amusement in his eyes that he could tell what I was secretly fearing: his undeniable bloodlust.
" No, probably not what you're thinking, Bella," he said menacingly. "Actually, it's just that standard hotel aroma."
I unleashed a quiet sigh of relief, and agreed. He'd certainly visited enough hotels in his lifetime to recognize the scent.
The dining room was concealed behind grand mahogany double doors. " Here we are," Edward said, opening the doors with one sleek movement. He motioned me through, with a flourish of his wrist. " After you."
Before I could even take a single step through the doorway, I was pulled into a crushing embrace. Gasping for air, I managed to squeak a fragile, " Hi, mom," into Renée's chest.
" Bella!" she cried ebulliently, holding me out for a brief examination, probably checking for new piercings or weight loss. Then, she yanked me back into her arms.
" I've missed you so much. You wouldn't believe it."
" I've missed you too, Mom," I said, flashing Edward a signal that I hoped he'd read as Help! Whether he chose not to acknowledge my sign, or he didn't know exactly what he could do to assist me, he merely stood behind us, smirking with his arms folded across his chest. What good is it to have a supernaturally powerful boyfriend if he can't even pry your mother off of you before she suffocates you to death? I mean, honestly.
Renée then drew her attention over to a beaming Edward. She dropped her arms from me, and pulled him into a gentler hug. " I'm so glad to see you again," she simpered.
" Always a pleasure," he said smoothly, his voice like syrup. She freed him, too, and then led us over to the table she'd reserved.
" I'm starving," Renée said, her eyes refusing to leave my face.
The waiter soon arrived bearing menus, and took our drink orders. The results were as I predicted: 2 Shirley Temples and a glass of water. With a curt bow, the waiter ducked out of the dining room and proceeded through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
Renée's adoring gaze soon became an irritation. I tried several times to shrug off her doe-like eyes, but she was unyielding.
" Mom," I said firmly, as if the word had some unspoken significance. Her gaze didn't budge, but were still fixated on my quickly reddening face. Edward seemed to be enjoying my embarrassment. A grin was placed adamantly upon his lips. " Stop staring at me. Please."
" Hey, leave your mother alone. I have the right to look at my daughter. I did create, you after all," Renée said. I rolled my eyes playfully, feeling a wave of affection for my mother. It became all too clear to me how much I had truly missed her.
I shifted my attention to the menu, and investigated my options. A deep craving for chicken told me to get a grilled chicken wrap, but that could be messy, and I didn't want Edward to see me with ranch dressing dribbling down my chin and lettuce hanging from my lip. So, I reconsidered. A grilled chicken salad, however, had the promise of being both clean and tasty. I was decided.
I peered up at Edward, who was perusing the menu as if he actually cared what he ordered. He looked solemnly stumped--his perfect dark brows furrowed, his lips a hard line. Renée seemed to be surveying him, as well, with the fascination of a child first stepping foot into a zoo.
" Having trouble picking out what you want?" she asked Edward after a few minutes. His eyes shot over to her intensely, like he'd just revealed to her a very personal secret. I surmised he'd read her thoughts, and found something he hadn't expected.
Edward cleared his throat. " Yes. I can't seem to decide between the New York Strip, a salad, or some sort of Italian dish."
" Has Bella ever mentioned that I can see into the future? Let me see what we have in store for you," Renée joked, waving her hands before her like she was staring into a crystal ball. Her sense of humor, of course, was simply side-splitting. At least, though, Edward had the decency to shed a polite chuckle. Or grimace. I wasn't completely sure which. Considering Alice's "eccentric" talent, a grimace wasn't exactly unjustified. If only Renée knew the half of it.
" I think I'll get a salad," Edward confirmed with a lithe exuberance in his voice, and snapped his menu shut.
" Me too," I said. As if I'd just announced that I was pregnant, Renée's eyes darted dangerously over to me.
" Bella, are you watching your weight?" she asked quickly, a note of worry in her voice. I snorted.
" You should see how much Bella consumes on a daily basis," Edward laughed.
I didn't exactly approve of his eating habits either. And, it wasn't as if my every meal was an unofficial pie-eating contest either. I was quite the average eater, but at least Edward's comment would get my mom off my back.
" Mom. I'm not on a diet. I just like a good salad."
" Here, here," Edward seconded, with a grin.
Then, some discernable emotion flashed across Edward's face, a combination of surprise, panic, and confusion. However, it vanished immediately, and was replaced by forced contentment, yet uneasiness remained in his clenched jaw.
"Is everything all right?" I mouthed to Edward when Renée's eyes returned to her menu. He sent me a look I did not expect—"No," was written blatantly in his eyes. He shook his head, and excused himself abruptly from the table.
Renée was naturally oblivious to the small crisis that was occurring. As she rambled about her flight, luggage-claiming complications, and Phil's business in Seattle, I couldn't focus. Instead, hypothetical horrors coursed through my mind---vampire complications far outweighed luggage-claiming complications at the given time, especially when Edward was so evidently worked up.
"…And, I asked the woman if she would please move her…" I was sorry to have to drown out Renée's voice, but something terrible could be going on at that very moment.
I glanced around the dining room. The people at the other tables sat so at ease and careless, I was entirely alone in being distraught. And, Edward had yet to return and assuage my worries.
Our drinks arrived, and I ordered for both Edward and myself.
" Hon, do you think everything's all right with Edward?" Renée asked once the waiter left.
Honestly, I had no clue. Before I could answer, the doors to the room opened and Edward walked briskly toward the table. His expression looked considerably lighter, but somehow strained, artificial.
And, to my absolute astonishment, my absolute horror, trailing behind Edward with a smug grin plump on her lips, her movement fraught with sass and pretension, was none other than Rosalie Hale. It was common knowledge amongst the Cullen family that Rosalie, Edward's sister, did not particularly enjoy my company, or at least my involvement with Edward.
Edward passed me a meaningful eye exchange, communicating that he would explain the truth later. I realized he was going to feed my mother some concocted half-truth to avoid the paranormal vampire business that likely lurked beneath the surface. Rosalie, on the other hand, looked her usual beautifully bitter self.
Edward introduced Rosalie to my mother, who looked awe-stricken by her divine beauty. Rosalie was very polite to Renée, much nicer to her than she'd ever been to me.
" I'm extremely sorry, Renée," Edward apologized, putting an enormous amount of effort to convince her of his regret, " but my sister, Rosalie, is having some car trouble nearby."
" That's terrible," Renée said sounding overly sympathetic. " Really horrible."
" Yes, so I'm going to have to bring her home," Edward said remorsefully. " I hate to interrupt our dinner, but---"
" Don't be silly," Renée disputed. " Rosalie is welcome to join us."
No, Mom, please, I begged with her mentally. While I could barely sustain the evening with just Edward and my mother, one with Edward, my mother, and Rosalie, would be excruciating.
" Oh, I wouldn't want to impose," Rosalie said sweetly. Renée's eyes softened.
" You wouldn't be imposing at all! I insist that you stay." She turned to me for further encouragement.
" Yeah, we haven't even gotten our food yet," I forced myself to say. Rosalie searched my eyes, and smiled. This was no genuine smile, however. It was one of malice. It was then obvious to me, and me alone, that she would stay only to spite me.
" Well, all right, then. If you insist."
While Edward's dilemma might not have been as dire as I'd initially feared, Rosalie had brought a whole other assortment of trouble to the table.
To Be Continued…