Emmett made a noise like a cough. "What was that supposed to be? Good cop, bad cop? Esme was acting just like Jasper."
"I'll be damned," said the aforementioned, "you're right! We are mighty close to the Lone Star State, from which hail the great clan of Whitlock. Maybe its proximity is rubbing off on her." He looked proud.
"I think you might be rubbing off on her, my dear boy," his father said, sounding as though the episode had exhausted him. "I don't understand why you two were so averse to her shooting you when that's exactly what landed you in trouble in the first place."
"Yeah, let's overlook the fact that she wanted to shoot Edward and Alice too…" Emmett said sarcastically.
"And that it hurt like the dickens," said the descendant of the great clan of Whitlock.
Em nodded. "There is that."
"I'd rather take my chances with a whipping honestly. I was getting an unsettling, devil-may-care vibe from Esme. You, Carlisle, are always the safer bet."
"I can't believe our mother tried to pop a cap in our—" Emmett was interrupted by a shot heard from several miles away. He cursed. "You don't think she shot Edward, do you?"
"He'll survive," was all Carlisle said. Trigger-happy Esme had startled him initially, but he was over it already. He wouldn't let on to the boys, but he rather liked a bit of fire in his woman. What an intriguing thought: Queuing the children up and giving each a shot in the bum. It certainly would take a lot less time and effort when discipline was required. It reminded him of his long-ago stint as a military doctor, during which they lined up soldiers, trousers down, for inoculations. It was an efficient, if impersonal, method.
"Some people just need to be shot," Jasper was saying.
"See!" Emmett exclaimed. "You sound just like Esme did a minute ago."
Jasper hedged. "Now I'm not saying that Edward is one of those people, but I'm just sayin'…"
"And some people just need a good smacking," remarked Carlisle, "so let's pay for our wrongdoings so we can get back to celebrating Alice's birthday month. However, I'm not quite pleased with our position—I somehow don't think we have our privacy here." He looked to the window, where he spied Alice shaking her head. Carlisle flexed his stiff right hand. "Listen, boys. I hate to ruin your fun, but I'm going to need a belt, and none of us happen to be wearing one."
This pronouncement of their fate caused Emmett's and Jasper's spirits to flag, while at the same time their nerves amped up.
Emmett stuttered. "Eh—Edward's got one, but he's long gone and probably just a, er—a chalk outline in the woods by now. 'M gonna miss him."
"My jeans are over by the truck," said Jasper, "but my belt is more of a fashion statement than practical for what you have in mind." Indeed it had an oversized buckle and studs in the leather.
"Well, one of you can go fetch a proper belt from the house."
Jasper was resolute. "I'll do it. This was all my fault."
"Go then. We'll wait."
He trudged into the cabin and was met by terrific embarrassment as the family, extended family, and Quileutes stared at the young man wearing only his drawers and cowboy boots. Jasper raised his arms slightly, palms out, as if he were the resurrected Christ, and he blessed the house with manufactured sensations of comfort and ease and normalcy.
Nessie was blithely hanging upside-down off the sofa. "Ahhh, I love it when he does that."
Alice spoke up before Jasper had to. "Charlie, you're going to give Jasper your belt."
The man, who was always partial to Alice, unbuckled and slid the belt from its station and dangled it like rope for Jasper to take. There were no awkward feelings or confusion while Jasper was still there. He kissed his wife on the cheek and then returned to Carlisle, who was speaking in low tones to Emmett. Judging by his brother's hangdog expression and the guilt suspended in the air like the Spanish moss in the trees, Carlisle had used the intermission to give Em another dressing-down. Jasper felt like dirt.
It was true that their father felt Emmett could use a verbal reminder to check the smart comments when he was already in deep. Carlisle nodded at the belt in Jasper's hand, took it, and then cocked his head to the side. "Follow me."
The boys ran after him through a swampy area until he'd found a suitable stump to use for the proceedings. Jasper didn't like the grim aura coming from his father, but he supposed that was not unusual given the situation.
"Here we are then. Jasper, there aren't any corners out here, so…go hug a tree or something. Emmett, you're first."
The brawny lad was overly familiar with this process, so after heaving a big sigh, he unfastened his jeans and stepped to his dad's right side. Carlisle offered him his arm to hold onto as Emmett lowered himself facedown over the paternal knee. Carlisle wrenched his son's jeans and underwear down just enough to bare the application site. It was so muggy that even their vampire skin was sticky and overlaid with a sheen of moisture. He held the boy tight with his left arm; the other hand, gripping the folded piece of leather, rested across Emmett's waist.
"Son, I expect better of you. You must think for yourself in these situations and not be so easily persuaded. The operative word here being think."
"I'll try, Dad."
Carlisle raised the belt and brought it down with a snap. He'd folded it to make a short, neat implement that wasn't broad enough to cover both buttocks, but created a satisfying thwack, reaching about six inches across. Since his hand still held the sting of the bullet, this method allowed him to keep the range of motion to a minimum. It was more like he was using a leather-soled slipper or flip-flop. Carlisle didn't mean to keep count (even if his mind tracked numbers unconsciously); instead, he reflexively aimed for symmetry. Emmett merely grunted.
After ten strokes, he stopped suddenly, responding to a loud creaking noise.
"Jasper, not so tight. That tree is ancient. Let's leave it standing, please."
"I'm sorry, Carlisle. This is difficult for me."
"I know it is, son. Put your hands on your head."
When Jasper had obeyed, Carlisle applied another ten strokes to the unusually quiet fellow, who more often than not, used his mouth to get into trouble. Before, during, and after spankings, Emmett normally couldn't shut up.
Carlisle quickly pulled Emmett's briefs back up and let him stand. He was panting and clearly hurting, but he smiled sheepishly at his father. That was what was so likable about Emmett. No matter what was going on, if you asked him how he fared, he answered, "Awesome!" For certain, had Carlisle asked him, "How are you?" at this moment, his strapping son—who was on the mend from a strapping—would tell him he was okay, if not "awesome".
Emmett shuffled off to the side, with his pants still clinging to his thighs. "You guys mind if I let it hang out for a while?"
"That's fine with me. Stay over there, turned around. Jasper, you come here."
When Jasper was close enough, he leaned to whisper in the disciplinarian's ear, "You've got to be harder on me. It was my idea and I talked him into it."
That had been Carlisle's intention. He only nodded his acceptance and pulled Jasper down over his lap, briskly yanking the boxer shorts out of the way. Jasper's backside was more narrow and meager compared to Emmett's. Carlisle adjusted the length of the belt and decided to go for longer strokes, which, by default would fall with more force. He figured Jasper could handle two dozen and he certainly believed the misbehaviour warranted it. Jasper didn't need a lecture—Emmett's whipping had been his rebuke and what was coming next would conclude the argument. Carlisle wrapped an arm around Jasper's waist and performed his task. It was good fortune, he thought, that he only had to spank two boys instead of three this time; furthermore, he was pleased by their behaviour, which told him that they knew they deserved this punishment.
The drawn-out measured slapping sounds succeeded by Jasper's subdued yelps reverberated throughout the marsh for only two minutes.
"Why anybody would want to live here, I don't know." Edward started complaining even before he reached the campsite. "There are vipers everywhere you step and I saw a mosquito the size of a crow just now."
"I'm seeing several mosquitoes the size of vampires right now," Jacob muttered.
When Edward became visible through the trees, the girls gasped in astonishment, as he had draped over his shoulders a massive alligator.
"Where did you get that?" Jake asked, equally repelled and fascinated.
"Esme shot it."
"Oh, so that's what she shot. We thought it might've been you, bro," Em said.
"It was going to be either me or him."
"What are you going to do with it?" asked Charlie.
Esme answered him. "I'm going to cook it."
"Um… A sport hunter's license for non-residents in Louisiana is $150, I'm guessing you don't have the tags, and you can't take an alligator without a guide. Edward wouldn't count as a guide—"
Edward interrupted Charlie. "It was self-defense."
"You sure do know a lot about these things, Charlie," Alice flattered.
"Well, you don't get to be chief of police by being naive…even in a town like Forks."
Not at all worried about legalities, Esme wasted no time skinning and cleaning the animal. Charlie stood by her, scratching his head and looking around to see if anyone else was worried about this crime.
"Guess what?" Alice squealed, trying to distract him. "I rented an airboat!"
"I'm driving," Edward demanded.
"So dress appropriately. I will make you change if it's not pretty"—Alice made angry eyes and turned to shout—"Bella!"
Minutes later Carlisle walked out onto the lodge's wrap-around porch dressed in swim trunks.
"Aw. You look so cute in your socks," Alice cooed before her tone changed abruptly. "Take them off now!"
"Alice!"
"Young lady," Esme scolded, looking up from her butchering, "you may not speak to your father that way. But seriously, Carlisle, you do need to take those off."
"Sorry, daddy." Alice danced on her toes, like a child who needed to use the toilet. "Now, please take off the socks."
"Calm yourselves, ladies. I forgot I had them on is all."
"Just—" Alice spread her hands toward Carlisle's feet as though she could dissolve them by mind power alone.
"All right, all right," he mollified, while stripping off the slouchy white tube socks.
Edward took the gang for a river tour in the airboat, while Jasper and Emmett hung their sore rear ends in the wake. The water creatures, even those with sharp teeth, seemed to sense a more powerful predator in the area and fled the scene.
Carlisle deliberately demonstrated an excess of affection for the two boys he had to punish that day. He hooked an arm around their shoulders and playfully rubbed their hair. Although it was an ongoing challenge to persuade Emmett to keep his pants pulled up and not to go around looking like a gangster. Carlisle considered his uncommon brood and how each struggled with a different shortcoming: there was Edward's temper, Rosalie's spite, Emmett's mouth, Alice's—well, whatever it was that made Alice Alice—and Jasper's pride that occasionally caused him to do something rash. He supposed Bella's weakness would be her stubborn nature, and it was too early to tell with Nessie. Despite all that, Carlisle would keep his family close and do his best by them.
And speaking of family…
While the rest boated, Carlisle's wife finished with her alligator. She thinly sliced and fried pieces of the leg meat, and used ingredients from the fully stocked kitchen to make a seasoned stew for the tail. When the crew returned, she fed those that would eat.
"You are really losing yourself in the culture here," Charlie said, biting an alligator nugget. "Say, this is good. Salty… Chewy…" He was impressed, forgetting about the law-breaking, and she smiled at his pleasure.
Jasper and Emmett weren't grounded, but one condition of their reinstatement was that they had to apologize to Renesmee and explain why what they had done was wrong. Of course, she already knew they'd been bad and why, and for that she was cross with her wayward uncles.
"Get away," she warned.
"Ruh-nez-may," Emmett drawled in a Cajun accent, "we must make rez-tuh-tu-shun. We need your co-op-er-a-shun."
"I bite," she said caustically.
Bella tried not to chuckle, while Edward chided their daughter for rudeness and tried to mediate a truce.
At that point, Carlisle whisked Esme from the kitchen, tore off her apron, and settled her under his arm in a hammock outside. "We're going to need a holiday after this holiday. It was almost a total cock-up from the start."
"Don't tell, but I'm a bit embarrassed about the way I behaved, you know, with the gun…"
"We shall not speak of it again."
"I don't know what got into me."
"I know what got into you. Six bullet-proof teenagers with a taste for extremes. If Mummy's lost her mind, it's all their fault, and I would tell them so."
Esme laughed, appreciating the way he dismissed her quirks with good humor.
"But now I am worried about the game warden showing up and arresting my wife…"
"There's an easy solution," Esme cheeked, "we shoot him."
Carlisle started to sit up. "Young lady, do you need a spanking?"
She buried her face in his chest and squeaked a muffled, "No!"
"Must I describe to you what happened to Jasper for shooting a rare species of vampiric bear?"
"What about what happened to Emmett for shooting you?"
"You wouldn't like to find out, I assure you, but I'm willing to give a reenactment later when we're alone. Do you really want to tour the French Quarter tomorrow with a smarting behind?"
"Oh, I'm hardly worried about your gimpy hand…"
As he spoke, his teeth came near Esme's throat and she shivered. "I didn't use my hand, my dear."
A nearby whooshing noise caused the mister and missus to turn their heads in unison. Edward, having succeeded at getting the apology completed, was repeatedly throwing a giggling Renesmee thirty feet in the air and catching her. They watched with enjoyment.
"You see the way she looks at him," Carlisle said wistfully, "like he's the best thing in the world."
Esme smiled, warm and knowing. "She looks at you that way too. That's the way they all look at you."
Carlisle laughed sarcastically through his nose.
Esme reconsidered. "We, I mean. We all look at you that way. Like you're the best thing in the world." She kissed him tenderly but broke away to reach behind his head and grab a venomous snake off a tree branch. Keeping her eyes on her husband, she expertly folded and snapped it, like one would do a belt, then threw the serpent into the woods. She returned to kissing the doctor, while Emmett hummed "My Heart Will Go On" from a distance.
THE END
Thanks to all of you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, following! You are lovely and make it all worthwhile. Thanks to sisterglitch for the description of alligator nuggets and the "science-curator" lecture on reptile-meat nutrition that inspired Esme to make her own. Cumor provided a recipe for alligator sauce piquante and details on Louisiana hunting regulations for this clueless former urban dweller. (Oh, and Cumor? I'm currently the last to get Jasper out of his pants, so...tag, you're it!)
I'd written the first chapter to this story so long ago, that I'd forgotten the real-life circumstance that inspired it. You're not going to believe this, but I was on a bus headed to NYC when this woman traveling with her teenage daughter in the seats across the aisle asked for my husband's belt. Her hand was injured and in a brace, and she wanted to smack her kid. My husband politely (or not so politely) refused. Things like this happen to me all the time...
