Chapter Ten
Christmas seemed so much more special that year. My first Christmas in this existence had gone nearly uncelebrated, for Carlisle and Edward had been far more concerned with monitoring my thirst; Carlisle, Edward, and I had exchanged gifts the following Christmas, but it didn't seem so eventful when Carlisle was the only one surprised by his presents. And none of them had celebrated Christmas when I was gone.
Esme and I spent several days decorating the gigantic house from top to bottom, including the rooms we never frequented. The dining room table, although we would never use it and would surely never have guests who would use it, was set for twelve with the expensive china, silverware, and table linens we'd found in the sideboard. In the largest parlor on the first floor, a fire continually burned in the wide marble fireplace, the mantle of which had already been draped with greenery we had collected ourselves. We had also gone out into the forest, brought back the biggest fir tree we could find, placed it in a far corner of the main parlor, and then festively decked it out.
We were not the only ones who contributed to the Christmas spirit in the Cullen house that year. Edward, who had never quite enjoyed Christmas as much as I did, spent much of his free time at his piano, keeping Esme and me entertained with his continually varying renditions of Christmas carols. Carlisle often came home from his shifts in Vancouver laden with Christmas presents for the rest of us; Edward and I, and also Esme and I, had our own sojourns to Vancouver for presents. It was mind-boggling to watch the pile of presents slowly growing larger and larger with each passing day.
Most evenings found us in the parlor. Carlisle would pull his favorite armchair near the fire and read aloud from Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol as Esme would sit on the arm of his chair, absently playing with his hair, and Edward and I would sit together on the hearth, playing chess or checkers or a card game. To any humans who saw us, we might have been the perfect portrait of how a family should act during the Christmas season.
On Christmas Eve, we all went hunting together as our own sort of holiday feast. When we returned to the house around midnight, we settled near the fire again to listen to Carlisle's warm voice flowing liquidly over the Christmas story straight from the Bible. We were still there in front of the dying fire when the dawn broke clear and cold, the winter sunlight shattering brightly across our diamond skin.
Edward and I opened our presents only out of tradition, as we had known what they were all along, but we found far greater pleasure in watching Esme as she opened her own presents. I felt the venom burn my eyes again when she opened and sobbed to see the two presents Edward and I had made for her: an unnamed composition Edward had written for her and Carlisle, and the ink drawing I had done of the infant I would never know but loved nonetheless because Esme loved him.
But Esme was not the only one given such a surprise for Christmas. All the other presents had been opened when Esme murmured softly, "Carlisle, I think we may have missed one." She and Carlisle exchanged small, sly smiles, smiles that made me arch an eyebrow in confusion.
"Ah, thank you for reminding me, Esme, I forgot," Carlisle said warmly. He patted her hand and stated, "I'll go get it." Rising from his chair, he left the room so swiftly he was all but invisible.
I tried to focus on Carlisle's thoughts where they centered in his study, but Edward admonished sharply, "Stay out of his head, Emily, you'll ruin the surprise." I smiled slyly, but he added, "And stay out of Esme's too." My grin just widened. "Don't think you'll find it in my head, dear sister," he told me. "I've carefully hidden it away in the one place you'll never find it." The crooked grin he'd inherited from our father lit up his face. I just glared at him.
Then Carlisle appeared abruptly at my side, beaming widely and holding a thin carved jewelry box. I felt my eyebrow arch even higher and asked softly, "Carlisle, what's in the box?"
His answering smile was blinding in the sunlight. Behind me, Esme replied, "It's your final Christmas present, sweetheart." She ran a piece of my hair between her fingers for a moment and then stated, "Go on, dear, open it." Carlisle held it out for me.
I took it from him and slowly, gracefully sank into the armchair Carlisle had vacated only moments earlier. My fingers found the delicate latch and then the smooth edges of the lid, easing them both open gently. A gasp slipped from my chest before I could stop it.
Inside, nestled against ivory silk, was a necklace that was nearly indescribable. A single teardrop diamond hung delicately beneath a "v" of eight more diamonds; the finely spun silver chain glistened like a glittering coiled snake in the light. It must have cost them a fortune. I gingerly touched it with my index finger to make sure I was really seeing it.
"It's so beautiful," I murmured in disbelief. I looked up at Esme, Carlisle, and Edward, who all looked rather pleased at my reaction.
Esme took one step forward and kissed me sweetly on the cheek. "Just like you, dearest," she told me. She reached into the box, carefully picked up the necklace, and fastened it around my neck, where it lay cold against my skin. Esme's fingers centered the diamonds above my collarbones; with another smile, she stated, "It suits you."
My own fingers found the necklace of their own accord and lightly touched the teardrop diamond. I insisted, "You shouldn't have spent so much on me. This must have cost more than everything else."
Carlisle shook his head and explained, "Actually, it was given to us as a gift, well, more accurately, to Esme as a gift. But she wanted to give it to you instead."
I told them I didn't understand, so Edward queried, "Emily, do you remember Carlisle telling us about the Irish coven he'd befriended before leaving Britain for the continent?"
"Yes," I answered, "Siobhan, Liam, and Maggie. What do they have to do with this?"
Edward stated, smiling warmly, "They visited while you were gone. Maggie wanted to meet this beautiful vampire Carlisle wrote of so long ago and brought with her her mother's most precious jewels as a present for Carlisle's new 'companion,' as she so sweetly called you."
"But they were all quite surprised to learn that you were gone and that Esme had joined us," Carlisle added with another warm smile, "not to mention that they terrified Esme when they arrived."
Raising an eyebrow, I asked how. Esme explained, "Carlisle was at the hospital, and Edward was out hunting squirrels." I looked at Edward questioningly, who shrugged and thought, I was bored, and it was actually fun. I'll have to show you sometime; we'll go this afternoon. I laughed and turned back to Esme, who had been waiting impatiently for us to finish our conversation. She sighed, then continued, "I was in the library, reading The Tempest, when I heard them downstairs. Maggie had insisted that Carlisle wouldn't be upset if they just let themselves into the house, but Siobhan and Liam were tentative about going much further than the entry hall. Of course, I had no idea at the time of who they were because Carlisle had neglected to mention them."
With a tight smile, Carlisle said, "Don't forget, Esme, that I was distracted by something else far more important. Such as attempting to find my runaway daughter." He glanced darkly at me; I smiled sheepishly and laughed weakly in reply.
The mood in the room suddenly lifted when Carlisle shrugged and said to me, "Maggie was most disappointed she didn't get to meet you. I had to promise her you'd go see her someday, so you'll have to since that unusual gift of hers leaves no room for lying." He noted the confused look on my face and clarified, "She can judge the truth in one's words, and she certainly uses it to her advantage. Edward found that out the hard way."
Edward settled onto the arm of the chair I occupied and grumbled in response to my silent question, "Carlisle returned before I did, and he didn't know where I'd been and asked me in front of them. There's not much dignity in hunting squirrels, so I lied and told him I had seen a mountain lion's tracks and had followed them far to the north. Unfortunately, Maggie knew I was lying and demanded as only she could that I tell the truth. Which of course I did." He glowered, but Carlisle and Esme both laughed.
I did also. From what I knew of Maggie from Carlisle's memories and stories, she certainly would have had a way of coercing my brother into telling the truth. Maggie was the epitome of young Irish girls: dark red curls, pale marble skin, and always dressed in emerald and gold. The only things about her that didn't fit the image were her brilliant crimson eyes that clashed strangely with her hair and her "unusual" thirst for human blood (although not so unusual for our kind). And according to Carlisle, she had such a sweet yet demanding nature that one felt obliged to give her the truth when she demanded it.
Letting my fingers brush across the cold silver again, I murmured, "Again, thank you." I leaned up to peck Edward on the cheek and stood up to embrace and kiss Esme and Carlisle.
If I had had the ability to sleep, I would have gone to sleep that night dreaming like a young girl of the most perfect Christmas she has known.