Chapter Eight
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
Sorry for the long wait. But the good news is, you will receive chapter 9 next Wednesday. Since my oldest daughter is now in school again, I have more time to write. You'll probably notice more updates for this story and more Twilight one – shots from me in the near future.
The girls' school was just as delightful as Esme had assumed it would be. They studied literature and poetry. They also learned how to properly sit at or serve a fancy tea. They practiced exercises that would improve their posture. All of these lessons Mother would probably decide were "unsuitable" for the farmer's wife she wanted Esme to be. She found them exciting for that reason.
However, by far, Esme's favorite subject at the school was art. They studied more about artists than she'd ever been allowed to in public school. For example, Leonardo da Vinci. His paintings were extremely compelling and life – like. Many of them also had religious themes like The Adoration of the Magi, The Virgin of the Rocks, most importantly The Last Supper. It surprised her to see these kind of images outside of church. The paintings kind of reminded her of Dr….no Carlisle. She'd promised him she'd start calling him by his first name. The man had seemed so serious when he'd asked that, so Esme wanted to try to honor his request, even though calling him Carlisle made it harder to keep her distance from him. Anyway, da Vinci's paintings reminded her of Carlisle because they both obviously thought about God a lot.
The girls also studied an artist named Claude Monet, who had a much different style of painting than da Vinci. Monet believed it was more important to show colors and ideas than for the painting to be realistic. Esme particularly liked his Water Lilies, because she could see the movement of the water in the picture. It made her feel free, like the water.
The school didn't just talk about other artists. The girls were also taught to paint themselves. Esme loved that, too. She was even able to use the fancy oil paints the "real artists" used, instead of making her own paints out of plants like she had to do on the farm. They were taught how to blend colors, how to show depth perception, and how to paint realistic portraits of each other. They were also taught about Monet's style of painting, which was called impressionism. With this kind of artwork, Esme learned how to choose colors even more carefully than before, to match a scene in her imagination. Even more importantly, for her, she learned how to show movement in a painting. It made her feel free.
OOOOOOOOOOO
Of course, just living in the city made Esme feel more liberated than she'd ever felt before. Everything she did there was enjoyable. Still, she particularly liked going to church, because Dr.…Carlisle was there. He seemed to look for her after the service as well, as he made a point to talk to her every Sunday.
"Are you enjoying school?" Carlisle asked her one particular day after they got up from their pews. Most of the other parishioners were leaving, but he stayed to see her.
Esme nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely."
"Are you taking classes about drawing, like you wanted to?"
It was amazing how much the doctor remembered about her. They'd only had one conversation about Esme's drawings, and that was over a year ago! It was nice, though. "Yes. And painting, too. Speaking of drawing, I'd like to get a closer look at that molding on the walls. I'd like to draw that someday. The structure of this church is beautiful."
Carlisle smiled and nodded. "Sounds like a wonderful idea, Esme."
But as Esme made her way to the wall of the church, Samuel tugged on her skirt. "Drawing sounds like fun! Can we draw when we get home, Esme?"
Esme smiled. "Maybe later today. I know your mother will be eager for lunch. Aren't you hungry? I think that tummy needs filling." She leaned over and tickled his belly. He giggled.
"Esme, I believe we must be going," Mr. Bishop called. "My wife is hungry."
Esme nodded. Mrs. Bishop was hungry a lot but, it was normal for her condition. She took Samuel's hand, and the four of them went back to the house. She forgot all about looking at the church walls more closely.
Esme went into the kitchen and fixed some cheese slices for Mrs. Bishop. Then she heated up some soup she'd made last night for the whole family to eat. As she stirred the soup, Mrs. Bishop munched on her cheese from the small table in the kitchen. "Esme?" Mrs. Bishop asked carefully.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing, talking to Dr. Cullen every Sunday after church?"
Esme almost stopped stirring. What did the woman mean? "I don't know," she replied, finally. "I like talking to him." She really did. Their conversations were interesting. And for some reason, Esme constantly forgot anyone was there while she and Carlisle talked. "And he seems to enjoy talking to me, too," she added. "Dr. Cullen always looks for me and speaks first." Esme tried not to sound too proud as she said that. But the way he sought Esme out every Sunday made her feel special.
Mrs. Bishop paused for a moment. Maybe she hadn't realized Dr. Cullen looked for Esme? "Well, I hope you don't think he means anything with that attention. He probably feels sorry for you, because you're new here or something. But don't forget where you came from, Miss Platt. You're still a farm girl. You may be going to that fancy school, but you're a charity case there. Professional doctors look for young ladies in their class when they begin courting." Then she stuck another piece of cheese in her mouth.
Esme stopped stirring the soup as she thought about what Mrs. Bishop said. Was Dr. Cullen…Carlisle…what should she call him? Did he really feel only pity for her? Esme had seen his face when they talked. He always looked so happy in her presence. Could that be fake? And what was this about "courting"? Did Esme really expect Dr. Cullen…Carlisle to court her? Was that what she wanted? Esme sighed. She didn't know. Still, Mrs. Bishop was right about one thing. She was still a farm girl. She was a "charity case" at the school. When Mr. and Mrs. Bishop had company, she ate in the kitchen with Samuel instead of with them. She was only a step up from a servant in this house. Not worthy of someone like Dr. Cullen. Esme had known that before. But…she'd let herself forget. She'd have to be more careful.
OOOOOOOOOOO
The doctor continued to seek Esme out after church and talk to her. He also made it clear he wanted Esme to call him by his first name. She still enjoyed talking to Carlisle, but Esme wouldn't let herself get attached to him, either. She wasn't worthy of him. Besides, Esme was in Columbus to go to school, not to be courted. She was making other friends in the city. Cindy, the other scholarship student at the school, was one Esme really liked. And since they were both technically "charity cases," she didn't have to wonder that Cindy might pity her or be unworthy of Esme.
Esme and Cindy ate lunch together. They talked about their schoolwork. They talked about their home lives. Cindy was another farm girl, just like Esme. "My mother used to be a school teacher before married my father, though. When she found out I liked public school, she found a way for me to continue."
Esme nodded, trying not to be envious of her new friend. Cindy's mother encouraged her to go to school. The only thing Mother encouraged Esme to do was take an interest in one of the local farm hands and get married. Esme was allowed to come to girls' school this year, but only after a lot compromise. "That's nice. My mother admires my artistic ability. She was happy I could go to a school that would develop it," Esme commented. That much was true.
Cindy nodded. "I've seen your paintings and drawings, Esme. They're some of the best in class."
Esme smiled. It was nice to know so many people liked her artwork. "Thank you. I'm happy to be here. I miss my family though, especially my younger siblings." What was Linda doing now? Did Timmy still refuse to eat vegetables? Was Camille still entertaining everyone with jokes? Her father occasionally sent a letter, but it wasn't the same.
"Yes. I miss my family, too. I have a lot of siblings, as well. It will be nice to go home for Christmas, at least."
OOOOOOOOOOO
The week before Christmas break, their school hosted a dance for the girls who had done well this semester. They even invited the young men who attended the college in Columbus. Esme and Cindy were both able to go. Esme put on her "Sunday best" for the occasion and pinned her hair up like a lady should. Cindy wore her best dress, a plain light blue with lace sewn on the bottom. She also pinned her hair up and even put on a necklace that Cindy said belonged to her grandmother. Neither of them looked like "charity cases."
The dance was held in the ballroom, where the school held graduations as well as dances. The girls were told there would be another dance in the spring. The ballroom was all hardwood cherry floor with glass windows on the far end. Each girl was given a fancy piece of paper to pin to their dress. The paper had spaces for different names. Apparently, they were supposed to put the names of gentlemen who wished to dance with them on the paper. Esme was a little confused. At the church dances at home, young men simply asked her if she wanted to dance with them. Why couldn't they do that here? She looked at Cindy who was also examining her paper. "Have you ever been to a dance like this?"
"No," Cindy replied. "But it looks like the other girls know what to do. Let's just follow their lead. There are a lot of young men I'd like to dance with here."
Esme nodded as several young men wrote their names on different girls' cards. Soon Cindy and Esme had a list of names as well. Esme danced with all the men on her dance card. One was particularly handsome and charming. Perhaps not quite as nice – looking as Carlisle, but close to it. He was tall with dark silky – looking hair and a perfect smile. His name was Charles Evenson. He was also one of the best dancers there. Esme's heart beat faster and faster as he twirled her around the room. "I'm studying business at the college," he told her as they danced. "Someday I will own the bank, just like my dad." He sounded very confident. Esme had to admit she liked that confidence. And his hands were smooth, unlike the rough hands of all the farm hands at home. "So are you enjoying your school?" he asked her.
Esme paused. His father was obviously well – to. Wealthy maybe. Would he still want to talk to her if he knew she was a "charity case"? "I like art classes," she said instead. "People tell me I'm quite good at it."
Charles nodded. "I'm happy to hear that." Near the end of their dance he casually mentioned, "My father has one of those new automobiles. He lets me use it sometimes. How would you like to ride around with me before you leave for Christmas?"
Esme paused. It did sound like fun. She'd never ridden in an automobile before, but they looked exciting. And Charles had been very enjoyable tonight. Yet, Esme wasn't sure if she was ready to be courted yet, even if he wasn't a farm hand. And that invitation sounded like he wanted to court her. Besides, would Charles still want her if he knew she was a "charity case"? Esme wasn't sure she wanted to find out. "I don't know, Charles. I'm here to go to school, after all. That should be my priority," she told him as politely as she could.
Charles nodded as he ended the dance. "I see. I will return in the next semester. Maybe you will realize there is more to life than school by then." He sounded quite confident. Esme liked his confidence before. Now, when they were focused on her…they made her a little uncomfortable. But she was probably worrying over nothing. Charles was a nice young man.
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OOOOOOOO
The past three months were amazing for Carlisle. He grew more confident in his abilities as a doctor all the time. And he loved knowing God was using him to heal people and even save them from death occasionally. But the best part was that he could see Esme every Sunday. Carlisle would locate her beautiful unusual – colored hair and then approach her beautiful face. She would smile when he greeted her. Carlisle liked knowing it made her happy to see him, too.
Esme had become used to calling him "Carlisle" instead of "Dr. Cullen." Carlisle was glad. He loved the way his first name sounded on her lips. Even more importantly, since she called him by his first name, Carlisle considered Esme to be his friend instead of his patient. And Carlisle became closer to his new friend every time they talked. Carlisle hoped Esme was becoming closer to him as well. They discussed her school, especially her art classes, which were her favorite. They discussed some of Carlisle's patients, especially the most humorous ones. They discussed the sermon that the minister gave that week. No matter what the topic was, he still never noticed anyone or anything except Esme.
The second Sunday in December was Esme's last day in Columbus until after Christmas. Carlisle was sad that he wouldn't see her for a few weeks, but he was also glad she would be seeing her family again soon. "So, you will be leaving today, correct?" He asked her.
Esme smiled at him. "Yes. Father will bring the buggy up this evening, after I prepare dinner for the Bishops."
Carlisle nodded. "I am sure you are eager to see your family again."
Esme shrugged. "I suppose. I definitely want to see my siblings. Father is usually nice enough, too. But mother…can be difficult. I am sorry. I shouldn't say such things. I love my family, of course, and I know they love me. I do want to go home for Christmas."
Carlisle smiled at him. "I'm happy to hear that, Esme." It was nice she had a family to return to for the Christmas. "But don't worry about your difficult mother, or about telling me about her. I do know a little about difficult parents." Did she remember what he had told her about his father?
Esme's eyes lit up in understanding. "Yes, you do, Carlisle. I remember."
She was really beautiful when she looked at him like that. Suddenly Carlisle decided to ask what he'd been thinking about for a long time, on some level. "Esme, are you busy this afternoon?" He couldn't ask her this when they first met, she was his patient, and it wasn't appropriate. And after that, he…he wanted to make sure he knew her better first. But now, was the time right?
Esme shrugged. "I will have to gather my things and keep an eye on Samuel, as always. But, no I am not especially busy."
"I don't need watching, Esme!" Samuel protested tugging on her skirt. "I am big!" He stood up as straight as he could, trying to show that he was taller than they thought.
Esme looked down at Samuel and patted his head. "Of course you are, Samuel."
Carlisle smiled at the way she interacted with the boy. It was adorable. "Well, in that case, could I call on you this afternoon?" He made sure to direct the question to Esme and her host family (who he realized were still nearby after Samuel interrupted them). After all, it wouldn't be proper to come without their permission first. This way he could ask them at the same time. Mrs. Bishop did not look happy at his request, but Mr. Bishop nodded anyway. Good. Carlisle would never call on a woman without permission of her guardian.
However, when Carlisle looked back at Esme, she wasn't smiling. "I…believe this is not the best time for gentleman callers, Carlisle."
Carlisle's face fell. She couldn't mean what it sounded like, could she? Perhaps she wanted to wait until after Christmas break? "Would you prefer to wait until you come back?"
Esme sighed. "I am not sure, Carlisle."
Carlisle nodded slowly. "I see. Well, I hope you have a good visit with your family." Carlisle left the church as quickly as he could. Had he been misreading her? Was she not as interested in him as Carlisle was in her? That had to be it. And why should a wonderful young woman like Esme be interested in Carlisle? He'd let his success as a doctor make him forget. Carlisle was no one special. After all, his own father wanted nothing to do with him.
The information about art in this chapter comes mostly from History of Art by H. W. Janson and Anthony F. Janson.
I did tell you chapter eight ended badly. But, like I said, it will be resolved soon. In the meantime, I would love some reviews, whether you wish to throw tomatoes at me, yell at the characters, or (as I want to do) give Carlisle a hug. I also always welcome questions.
Here's some responses from the last chapter. (If anyone is uncomfortable receiving a public response, you are welcome to PM me with reviews as well.)
Ella: Thank you. It was great to see them together again in chapter seven.
Cheeky Monkey: Thank you. Here's your update. Sorry it took so long.
Srhittson: Glad to help. Like I said before, I'm always happy to answer questions my readers have.
Anabel: Thank you. I love Carlisle's faith, too. (I'm planning on another canon one – shot that focuses on that aspect, actually.) And I think your English is fine, personally.
Cris. P.: That's the way I set up the school situation. I wanted the reader to be unsure whether she would be able to go, just like Esme was, so you'd feel for her. (And we're all happy she can see Carlisle again. ) And you got what you wanted. Chapter 9 will be available next week.
Miki: So happy to hear from you for this story! Glad you liked all the happy moments in chapter 7. (Did they make up for the sad moment at the end of this one?) Charles certainly made an appearance in this chapter, so you were partially correct.
