The Fantasy Basket
By Esme Incognito
Inspired by Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series. No infringement intended.
Posted 5/2/12, Re-posted 11/23/13
Chapter 3—Esme: The Reunion
September 1990
"Ready? Let's get a move on. You said it starts at 7:00, right?" Carlisle asked, checking his watch.
"I'm ready. Carlisle, you look…"
"Boys? Come say goodbye!" he interrupted, as if I weren't even there. Emmett and Edward came tearing down the hallway, nearly knocking their father over, ten year old Emmet hugging Carlisle around the waist and six year old Edward leaping into his arms.
"Bye Daddy, we love you!"
"I love you, too. Miss you already," Carlisle replied as he showered the boys with kisses and tousled their messy hair. "Be good for Mrs. Banner, ok?" Edward's old preschool teacher was the best babysitter ever, and was happy to stay with the boys overnight.
"We will, Dad."
"Bye Mom. Love you!" My sons each hugged me and kissed my cheek. "You look pretty dressed up all fancy, Mama."
"Thanks Eddie-Bear." At least one of the males in this house noticed.
Carlisle watched the boys with loving eyes. Eyes that rarely met mine anymore. He's such a good father. I hated taking him away from the kids when their time with their daddy was so limited.
I felt a little guilty when I booked a room at the hotel for the night of the reunion. Was it selfish of me to want to spend a night with my husband? We really needed some time alone without distractions or interruptions. Things had been so distant between us lately, and I hoped that we could reconnect a little this weekend.
"Thanks for coming tonight. I may need the moral support."
"You nervous?" he asked as he pulled onto the freeway, speeding up and darting aggressively through the Friday night traffic. His car was no minivan!
"A little. Carmen's the only one I've kept in touch with, other than a couple of girls on my Christmas card list. She and I agreed to talk to other people tonight instead of each other, though. We'll compare notes at breakfast tomorrow. I wonder if anyone will remember me after 20 years?"
"Esme, you were a cheerleader. Everyone will remember you."
"Ugh—the cheerleaders! They're the ones I DON'T want to see."
"Give them a chance, Es, I'm sure they've changed." That's my Carlisle—always so kind, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. I wasn't feeling quite so forgiving.
"Yeah, maybe now the queen witch Maria is fat and twice divorced, working as a secretary in a dumpy little office, gossiping all day long and reading celebrity magazines to try and forget her pathetic little life."
"Do I detect a little bitterness?" he chuckled.
"Who, me? Never!" I replied, dripping with sarcasm.
The cheerleaders on my varsity squad had been an army of pure evil, led by a demon named Maria. I loved cheering, but those girls? Ugh! I shudder at the memory.
For some reason, Maria took a dislike to me early on, and influenced the others to snub me as well.
They put on a good show when the squad was on display—all the fans we cheered for and our teachers and coaches thought we were all the best of friends, smiling and hugging. But once the spotlight was off, the girls went wild, partying and gossiping, attacking anyone perceived to be less important than they were, which was just about everyone.
I was always a "nice" girl—didn't drink or smoke or swear or sleep around—and while I tried to be friends with everyone during cheer practices and games and to never judge others for the choices they made, I certainly didn't go out partying with them or participate in their gossip.
Unfortunately, that was all the fuel they needed to put a target on my back. Just because I chose not to get drunk every weekend with them and sleep my way through the football team, they spread rumors and pulled mean pranks and basically shunned me.
Poor Carlisle. I had started dating him that awful year, and he was always my shoulder to cry on when the girls got under my skin. He helped me realize that just because I COULD be a cheerleader, didn't necessarily mean I SHOULD be one if it was making me miserable. So, when it came time for senior year tryouts, I decided I'd had enough and didn't bother showing up.
That was unheard of—girls who earned a coveted spot on the Varsity squad as a junior ALWAYS cheered as a senior. The tryout was just a technicality. I was willingly walking away from top-level popularity and status at our school, but I didn't care.
I would miss the cheerleading itself, but the people I had to work with made it intolerable. Why should I willingly subject myself to more torture? Besides, I was dating a college boy—I was so DONE with high school.
True to her character, when I didn't try out, Maria told everyone that I hadn't made the squad because I had such a bad personality. What an evil beast!
"It's been 20 years, Es. She may have matured into a much different person. Maybe now you'll even like her." Oh please, Carlisle, whose side are you on?
"Yeah, right!" I couldn't believe his optimism. For the brilliant man that he is, he knows nothing about women. "Well, at least I'll be on the arm of the most handsome man in the room. She'll be so jealous," I sniggered.
"Pull the claws in, Es. I don't want you to snag my Armani."
I smiled. "Do you realize you've had this car for almost a year and this is only the third time I've been in it?" He had bought the Porsche for his 40th birthday. Very cliché, I told him. I just hoped he wasn't continuing the cliché by giving the nurses at the hospital free "rides" in his sexy car.
"Really? Well, maybe we'll just have to get you one of your own in two years."
I would rather just have him take me out in his once in awhile.
"Sure. I can just stick the boys in the trunk. Do you think Emmett will fit? He's getting pretty big."
He laughed.
"Actually, I'd rather have a trip—just you and me on a beach somewhere. No worries…hmm, maybe Australia? I'd love to visit a whole new continent. Or we could go back to Paris, where I spent my 20th birthday."
"You know how hard it is for me to get away," he groused, dismissively. I frowned.
"I know I'll only turn 40 once." We were quiet until he pulled into the driveway at the hotel.
"Just relax and have fun tonight. I've got your back if you need it, ok?" Now he's back to nice.
I nodded as he tossed his keys to the valet, buttoned his jacket, and offered me his arm. All eyes were on the incomparably handsome Dr. Cullen as he led me to the ballroom. That made me more nervous than the prospect of meeting any of my old classmates.
"I remember that girl. Still wish I could've felt those feathers," Carlisle whispered with a grin as he attached my name tag to my dress. They had included our senior class pictures, in which each girl wore a pale pink drape with marabou trim and each boy wore a tux with a ruffled shirt, next to our maiden and married names.
I remembered getting that picture taken the summer before senior year. Carlisle had driven me to the photography studio and stood behind the photographer, undressing me with his eyes as my photo was taken. It gave me a nice blush and gleam in my eye for the yearbook picture.
"I like you in feathers. I wish I could've felt them," he'd whispered in my ear.
After the photo session, he took me to see the Wizard of Oz—it was a Judy Garland commemorative, since she had just died—and we made out like crazy.
The reunion was a lot more fun than I'd expected. For the most part, people were warm and friendly, talking about kids and jobs and reminiscing about high school memories.
The photo-name tags turned out to be very helpful because some people looked completely different after 20 years.
We spoke with old friends and acquaintances and met their spouses. I even got to know and like some classmates now whom I hadn't really known in high school for whatever reason.
Carlisle was his charismatic self, befriending all the men and charming all the women. It was nice to see the confident, sexy, outgoing man I had dated and married instead of the tense, clipped person who barely made eye contact when he comes home to me every night.
I missed this man—the man I had fallen in love with.
It seemed that a lot of my classmates had experienced similar ruts in their relationships. I was shocked at the number of people who had divorced, some more than once. I'd never believed the common statistic that half of all marriages end in divorce, but I could see it here in flesh and blood.
Just as disheartening were the people who seemed to have settled into unhappy lives. Many of the married couples seemed so disconnected from each other and I worried that I appeared just the same to them. I wondered, was this just life after a certain age? Was there no more joy or enthusiasm between partners when you approached 40? Did love for each other give way to love for your children? I sighed in resignation and laid my head on Carlisle's shoulder.
"Tired?"
"No, just thinking…"
"Let me get you something to drink." As Carlisle walked toward the bar, I watched all the eyes in the room follow him.
I'll admit that he's dazzling, but many women made no effort at all to disguise their attraction to him. He's a married man with children, for crying out loud! I shook my head in disbelief.
The reunion was in full swing now. As the night wore on and the alcohol took effect, the dynamic in the room changed. Old cliques started to regroup—people abandoning their lonely spouses to drink alone like wallflowers at the prom. Old attitudes started to reemerge. Gossip started flowing freely.
"I need to visit the ladies room. I'll meet you back here in a bit."
As I finished in the restroom and struggled to pull my nylons up straight and rearrange my dress in the tiny stall, I overheard a group of boisterous women enter the room to primp in the mirror.
"Did you see that total babe up in the front?"
"The blonde? Oh my god, yes! I think he's here with Esme." It was Maria and her two cheerleader minions. I had managed to avoid them all night, and now here I was stuck in the bathroom hearing them lust over my husband.
"You're kidding."
"No, did you see the Porsche they arrived in?"
"Talk about man on a stick."
"Huh?"
"Man on a stick! Don't you want to unwrap him and lick him all over?" The other two giggled.
"He is a total babe, and Michelle said he's a doctor, too."
"Jeez, how the hell did Miss Goody Two Shoes land that fine specimen?" Maria scoffed, "That much man has needs that I'm sure Miss Never-Been-Drunk can't even imagine fulfilling. He's got to screw around, don't you think? Can you imagine that prude being enough for him?"
"Maria, you're terrible!" Lucy was always the nicest of the three.
"She's just the window dressing, I'll bet. The pretty little wifey who's good enough on paper to have his kids, cook dinner for his boss, and decorate his arm for charity events. Men like that usually keep a little something on the side so they can get their freak on."
"I don't know, Maria." That was Nettie for sure. I remembered her nasally voice.
"Maybe Esme has a secret side. Don't you remember the theories about her senior year?"
"What?"
"You know…That she was a pro. She always had money, even though her parents were dead. She went off campus for lunch almost every day, and why wouldn't she try out for Senior Varsity Cheer unless she needed her weekends free for other, more lucrative activities?" Nettie laughed.
"What do you mean she didn't try out? She didn't make it because she was such a stuck-up bitch!"
"No, Maria, I was one of the peers on the selection committee. She didn't turn in an application or show up for tryouts or anything, so we couldn't even schedule an interview. God, I can't believe you don't remember this!"
"No way. Esme the pro? That's not possible. She was always so sweet and nice." At least Lucy was defending me.
"Yeah, maybe nicer to some than others!" They laughed.
"Let's go try to talk to them. Since Dr. Sexy will be starring in my fantasies for awhile, I want to get a closer look at him and find out what name to scream."
"Hell with that, Maria. Let's go talk to him and see if he'd like to ditch the bitch and join us upstairs for a private party for four?"
"Make it three. I'm here with Jim, remember?"
"Your loss, Lucy!" They cackled, heels echoing against the cold tile floor.
I struggled to hold back my sobs until I heard the door close behind them. I splashed some cold water on my face and hurried back to join Carlisle before those vamps could sink their teeth into him.
As my eyes scanned the ballroom, I spotted Carmen and Eleazar sitting with our old friends Janet and Lynn and their husbands. After a quick hello, I asked if they'd seen Carlisle. Eleazar said he's seen him talking to Joe Newton and offered to walk me over to where he was.
"Esme, are you ok?" Carmen asked.
"I'll tell you about it in the morning, ok? I just… I have to find Carlisle, right now."
Eleazar led me in the direction he'd last seen my husband. He brushed past the three leeches who hovered nearby, ready to pounce, and found Carlisle in an animated conversation with Joe Newton, former student body president, about the latest health care reform. Joe had done well for himself. He owned a chain of sporting goods stores throughout Washington and Oregon and was the favored candidate in a run for the state senate. Joe was a good guy. I always knew he'd do well.
"Hey, Dr. C! Look who I found."
"Oh, there you are! Eleazar, great to see you, my friend. How's Carmen? I hear congratulations are in order."
"Thanks, Doc. She's wonderful. I swear she gets more beautiful with every child she carries for me. I'd better get back to her before one of her many old admirers swoops in to steal her away. See you tomorrow. Joe, great to see you again. How's the campaign…"
As the two men wandered away, I clasped my arms tightly around my husband and buried my face in his chest.
"Esme, what's wrong?"
"You've got my back, right?" I whispered urgently, "I need you to kiss me, Carlisle, kiss me with passion like you used to."
With a confused look, he leaned down and took my face in his hands. My eyes darted toward the trio of cheerleaders (still skinny and slutty as ever) and he understood.
He looked into my eyes and whispered "I'll make your troubles go away." He kissed me twice tenderly, and then deepened his kiss and his embrace, moving his right hand to my hair and his left down my neck and chest, grazing my breast as he moved it around to my back, pulling my body flush against his with his fingers splayed so his wedding ring was in full view of our three unwelcome onlookers.
As Carlisle's warm tongue lapped against mine, I glanced over to see Lucy respectfully turned away, Nettie turned sideways stealing a few quick glimpses out of the corner of her eye, and Maria facing us directly staring blatantly with undisguised lust, her jaw partly open, chest heaving with deep breaths, one hand on her stomach and the other clutching her skirt.
What a sleaze I thought, as Carlisle pulled my head to the side and moved his mouth to my neck.
Working his way up to my ear, his hand moved down to my ass, pulling my pelvis into contact with his and he began to rock gently against me as he whispered, "Show's over, let's get out of here Es," into my ear.
He turned to gather his jacket and my clutch from the table, ensuring that Maria got a clear view of the erection he sported. As he led me away past my tormentors, he turned his eyes in an icy blue glare at Maria, leaned in toward her face while adjusting himself seductively, and murmured "not for you, not ever. There's only one woman who can handle this." His hand shifted from his crotch to my lower back as he covered himself with the jacket in his other hand and led me toward the exit and up to our room.
As the elevator doors closed, Carlisle laughed, "How was that? Did we give them a good show?"
"It was perfect. You were perfect. Better than you know," I murmured, trying to hold back tears.
He gave me a confused look and rushed me to our room, where I broke down as soon as the door clicked shut. Carlisle caught me in his arms as I started to collapse and moved me to the bed. He held me until the strongest sobs subsided. Then he took my shoes off, brought me a box of tissue from the bathroom, and looked through my bag for pajamas.
I had brought a silky nightgown, but as he glanced over to see me blowing my nose and hiccuping, he grabbed a t-shirt from his bag instead. Tonight I needed comfort.
As he reached around my back to unzip my dress, I nuzzled my head into the nook of his shoulder and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"You ok?" he asked, lifting my face with a finger under my chin.
I nodded sadly and shifted to change out of my dress and into the t-shirt.
"Wanna talk about it?"
I nodded again, not quite sure if I could talk without my voice breaking yet.
"Sorry," I whispered.
"For asking me to put on a show with you? Ezzy, you've done that for me a million times to get rid of unwelcome admirers. I'm happy to do the same for you."
"No, not that…"
"Well, what on earth do you have to feel sorry for? You're the one who's upset. Please tell me why."
"For not being good enough for you." I burst into tears.
"WHAT? What are you talking about?"
I took a deep breath and began, "Those three women were the worst of the cheerleaders. I think you recognized Maria, right?" He nodded. "I overheard them in the bathroom. They didn't know I was there and said some awful things… horrible things."
"Yeah?"
"They were talking about how sexy you are and how they wanted to offer you a threesome."
His eyes grew wide.
"They couldn't believe that you were with a prude like me because I could never be wild enough for you. They said that you just married me because I was good wife material for having babies and giving dinner parties for your boss but you probably keep a real woman on the side to meet your needs."
"Oh, dear god, Esme, you know I would NEVER…"
I held my hand up to stop him so I could continue. "Then Nettie said maybe I had a secret wild side and didn't they remember the theories about me senior year." He tilted his head questioningly.
"Seems people were calling me a whore because I had more money than they thought I should (which was my mom's life insurance) and 'cause I never ate lunch on campus (because I was so sick of high school that I always met you for lunch) and since I didn't try out for the squad again, I must be turning tricks on the weekends instead."
"WHAT? Are you fucking kidding me?" Carlisle was mad. He never swears.
"And then…"
"There's more? How could they possibly say anything more to hurt you? How could they say anything worse than that?" Carlisle's eyes were wet as he shook his head in rage.
"And then as they were leaving Maria said she wanted to get a closer look at you so she'd have a good picture for her fantasies and a name to scream out." I sniffed as tears fell down my cheeks.
"Oh my g-. No fucking way! Those slutty fucking bitches!" Carlisle shouted as he stood up and started to pace. He slapped the wall with each word, and covered his face as he paced a few laps around the room to calm himself down.
He was muttering under his breath about how he wished he were normal looking and how his stupid looks caused so much trouble for me, and how could anyone treat another person so badly.
I had never seen him so angry or heard him utter such foul language in the 21 years I had known him.
"Carlisle?" I patted the bed next to me and he sat, head in hands, elbows on knees as I rubbed his back and shoulders. "They're just jealous. I shouldn't have told you. It's a burden you don't need to bear. I'm sorry."
"What?! Dammit, Esme, I want you to tell me everything! It's NOT a burden. It's YOU." I flinched at his angry outburst. He put his hand on my shoulder to reassure me.
"I'm sorry, but jeez, I… I feel like Carmen knows you better than I do nowadays. We never talk anymore. I need you to talk to me…"
"You feel that way, too?"
He turned his head around to look back into my eyes and nodded. "Yes. I miss you. I miss… us… the way we used to be. You were my best friend."
"I miss you, too. That's another reason I was so upset tonight. Even before the cheerleaders, I was feeling insecure. Seeing all those people who are divorced and people who seem to have settled into unhappy lives set my mind thinking about how distant we've become.
I wonder if we're headed there, too? It seems like everything we've got in us goes to the kids or the job or the house, and all that you've got left for me is the leftover scraps. No love, no affection, no touch. I can't even remember the last time I had a good look in your beautiful blue eyes, Carlisle."
I started to cry again and he turned his body to face me, pulling me into his lap, watery eyes gazing sadly into mine. I sighed and continued. "And then to see ALL THOSE WOMEN staring at you all night… wanting you… and I know that happens all the time. I just feel so lonely and dead inside I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to find someone new and exciting. I trust you and I know you wouldn't stray, but I can see how easy it would be for you to do so. You're surrounded by temptation and opportunity every day and apparently I'm not wild enough for a fine piece of man like you." I spat out the final words, spitefully.
As I spoke, he buried his head in my chest and began to rock us gently.
"Ezzy… My Ezzy… I would never… never ever." He looked intently into my eyes, "I promised you love and fidelity until death do us part and I intend to keep that promise. No dumping, remember?"
My lips curved into a watery smile. "I'm scared of losing you, Carlisle. I hate what we've become." He tightened his arms around me once more.
"I'm so sorry I've stopped showing you how much you mean to me. I don't know how that happened. You're my one and only and I'm yours. That's a rare thing nowadays, and I'd never sacrifice it."
"Women don't want ME, Ezzy, they just covet my face, my body. You're the only one who truly knows me or wants ME." He placed my hand over his heart, covered with his own, and rested his forehead against mine.
A moment later, he lifted his head with a devious look in his eye and took a deep breath, puffing up his chest. "You just get this primo packaging as a special bonus," he boasted, quirking an eyebrow and flexing a bicep.
I snorted and pushed him over onto his back. "Shut up, you ego maniac. If they only knew that you're an even bigger prude than I am!" I laughed and kissed him.
"Hey! Everything I know I learned from you. No wild woman on the side is necessary, thankyouverymuch."
I sat up, pensive. "Really? Is it really enough? I only know what you've taught me, too, you know. But… do you ever wish you could try something new—with me, I mean! Do you have any… fantasies?" I blushed and looked down. "I mean, it was kind of exciting to hear you cuss, preacher boy." I looked up at him under my eyelashes.
His eyebrows shot up. "Really?" he asked, rolling us over so he was on top of me. "So if I whispered into your ear," and he did, "'Esme, my love, I'm going to fuck your brains out now' you'd like that?" I blushed, covered my mouth with my hand self consciously, and shrugged.
We both burst into laughter and rolled on the bed, kissing, cheerleaders and hurt feelings forgotten for now.
He didn't f- my brains out that night. He loved me. And I loved him. He sat at my feet and asked my forgiveness, and I asked his. We prayed together for help reigniting our marriage. And we worshipped each other, gazing into one another's eyes and feeling our love start to flow again with every gentle kiss, every trembling touch, every quavering breath, and every whispered promise.
I made love to the man inside the beautiful face and body, the compassionate, caring, tender soul who'd given stability and a sense of home to a lonely 17 year old orphan. And he made love to me, the girl who had brought art, beauty, and whimsy to his strict and structured existence as a preacher's only son. I invited him inside my body, something we had only ever shared with each other. Our souls touched each time we rocked, each time we pressed closer together, and they connected completely, becoming one as we climaxed.
"Carlisle… Esme… I love you…" we whispered together. No other words were necessary as tears flowed from our eyes, two green, two blue, and mixed on our cheeks. After years of hurt and neglect and complaisance we'd inflicted upon each other, we were forgiven. We were reborn.
A/N
I'd love to hear YOUR reunion stories.
Besotted cures my comma problems. Many, many thanks!
Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think.
Jen
