Thanks to my beta, Besotted, and my BFF pre-reader, Twaffle. I couldn't have done any of this without either of you.
Antiques Roadshow
Less than a week has passed since I spoke with Bella about what it would mean for her to become a vampire, and she's asked insightful questions since. I'd expect nothing less from her.
I successfully transferred James to the Harrah's location in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Victoria put up a bit of a fuss about moving before she realized she could unload the burden of her own casino and end up having more alone time with her mate. She said she hadn't been able to spend as much time with him when they were both so tied down to full-time responsibilities. James wagged his eyebrows at me with a wink and said he was only taking a part-time position in Jersey. I let him go and wished him luck. Hopefully, the next time I see him, Bella will be a vampire. I can only hope she chooses this life.
Now it's Roadshow time again. Emmett and Rosalie were dying to come with, so we're taking our private plane to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Emmett's excited to visit his old stomping ground, and he's more chipper than usual. I find it hilarious that neither Jasper nor Carlisle were able to make it to this particular event. Carlisle couldn't get out of work, and he tried asking everyone to cover him for the weekend with no luck. And by everyone, I mean everyone. He truly annoyed his co-workers. Jasper's on location with Alice, who's filming stunt work in Vancouver, Canada.
After we land, we drive to the Gatlinburg Convention Center and make our way to the exhibit floor. Rose, Emmett and I all stand in Bella's line, though we don't have long to wait. Mac's head turns slightly in my direction, and he smiles and nods at me before turning back to his camera. We're only a few people back, and Bella spots us from her seat.
Awesome! You brought the cavalry! My hands are greedy today, Edward.
I chuckle quietly, shaking my head.
Innuendo intended, baby. Innuendo intended.
"What are you laughing at, man?" Emmett asks, looking at me inquisitively.
"Bella's being Bella," I answer with a smirk. "She's in a playful mood today." Emmett's not getting any intimate details out of me. I know he wouldn't rib me too badly, because he's happy I've finally found my mate, but I'm a gentleman, and I don't kiss and tell. That part of her is mine and mine alone.
Emmett just smirks back at me and nods in acceptance.
No worries, Edward. I understand completely. You know I'm not one to share details of my sex life with Rose. It's private, and she's my wife. Now… the fact that you've heard us before is another thing, entirely.
"No shit," I whisper with a snort, shaking my head again. That just makes me all the more glad that we no longer try to live together as a single unit.
We make our way closer to Bella, and we approach cameraman Mac, who greets me.
"It's nice to see you again, Edward," he says as his eyes scan Emmett's form. He becomes visibly nervous, and his thoughts are put on alert.
He's like two linebackers put together, and he seems a tad dangerous. And I can bench 400 pounds, for crap's sake!
Mac tries to dismiss those thoughts right away, because he trusts that I wouldn't bring anyone along that was a menace, but the fact that he's a human with a healthy intuition overrides the part of his brain that wants to disregard the danger.
"Is your friend here, a decent guy?" he whispers, though Emmett also catches what he says. He doesn't show it, though.
"Ahh, he's harmless," I answer with a smile. "He wouldn't hurt a fly," I say, patting Mac on the back, making sure to be gentle. With Bella, it's ingrained in me to be gentle, but with other humans, I always have to be conscious of my superhuman strength.
Emmett snorts softly in front of me, and his thoughts are amusing as hell.
No, I wouldn't hurt a fly. I'd just nom on all the grizzlies in the world. ALL THE GRIZZLIES.
I barely contain my mirth as Mac looks at me dubiously.
"I swear, Mac. He just looks like he could do some damage. He's a great guy."
Damage you, I will, Emmett thinks as he nods his head imperceptibly in front of me. He notices he's up next in line, and Mac acquiesces as he turns his head back to his camera.
"All right, Edward. If you say so," Mac replies, trusting in me.
Bella greets Em jovially, and I'm getting excited to be able to watch their interaction through both their thoughts.
"What have you brought to the Roadshow today, Emmett?" she asks with a huge smile on her face.
I can't even express how deeply I'm touched that your family is really interested in what I do.
"I brought an old railroad lantern," he answers, setting it on the table for her to examine. "It's been in my family for a while," he emphasizes with a smirk, subtly letting her know that it really belongs to him. "And I was curious about its value and the history behind it," he states.
Like the rest of us, Emmett has very limited human memories. What he can recall is vague, but he has verbal confirmation from Carlisle that he worked on the railroad with his brothers right before he was changed. The thought that he'll receive a human memory today has him giddy.
"Well, I can definitely shed some light on this for you," Bella says as she touches the lantern, inspecting it carefully. "Pun not intended," she jokes, and I can hear both Emmett and Mac snicker under their breath.
"This particular lantern was made by a company called Adams & Westlake, and we can see that clearly inscribed on the top, with 'Adlake-Kero Co., 1-35,' which means it was made in the first quarter of 1935. It's also embossed with 'CR-J,' which stands for Clinchfield Railroad, stationed in Johnson City, Tennessee."
"Lanterns were an essential tool of the trade for relaying signals and inspecting trains at night. What you've brought me today was referred to as a 'trainmen's lantern,' which was used by railroad crew members. Tracks were certainly built at night as well as in the daytime, and lanterns like these allowed crew members to see what they were doing in the dark," Bella says, enjoying the wowed expression on Emmett's face.
"This lantern has all of its original tin, the frame is sturdy, and it comes with the original fount and burner, meaning it will still burn oil. At auction, I'd say this would go for an estimated value of $850."
"Oh, cool, Bella! I never expected it to be worth more than a hundred dollars, so I'm pleasantly surprised by that. Thank you," he says as she hands him his lantern, patting him on the arm as she does. This is a conscious decision, and she knows she's about to give Emmett a human memory. I tune into Emmett's brain immediately, reliving it as he does. He's taken back to when he was 20 years old, mere months before he was changed.
It's 1935, and I'm with my brothers, laying tracks in the July heat. We've been at it for only four hours, and I'm already dog tired.
"Bet ya' didn't think you'd be working quite this hard, huh, Em?" John goads as he saws and lays more rails. I can hear Elijah laughing a few rows down. I haven't been at this as long as they have, and they are older than me.
"Shut up, John! You too, Eli. At least your wives will have a nice feast for ya' when ya' get home. Mama keeps botherin' me about finding my own wife, so I can stop 'eating her outta' house and home.' Can ya' believe it?"
"Hell yeah, we can believe it," they say in unison, laughing harder as they hammer and saw even more. "When mama had us all over for Sunday dinner, ya' ate two full baskets of biscuits, all by yerself! And ya' slathered em' in honey and butter to boot! No wonder she wants ya' to find a wife!"
"Aw, c'mon, guys," I whine, knowing they'd just keep pokin' at me till I went on the offensive. "Ya'll know I won't settle for the first girl who catches my eye. I want a girl who's smart and beautiful. And ya' know how hard that is to come by around here. Most girls just want a husband, and they don't care if ya' can hold a conversation. I want a wife that can go toe-to-toe with me and make me laugh," I say, grunting as I push another steel track together. "And it'd be nice if she was pretty and could cook, too," I finish with a wink in their direction. They snicker some more, and wish me luck in my search for my dream girl.
We work all day, only breaking for a quick lunch. It's just gotten dark outside, signaling the time to go home. My brothers and I grab our lanterns and begin to make our trek home. We all live in the same area, and we talk and laugh as we walk.
"Do ya'll think this locomotive thing's really gonna stick around?" I ask, wondering if we're really making a difference in the way people travel. Cars were wildly popular, and if ya' had money, ya' owned one.
"Yeah," John replies, and Eli nods in agreement. "Ya' have to be able to afford a car, y'know?" he says, swinging his lantern as he gestures. "The train tickets are cheap, and they've been gettin' people where they need to go without many hiccups. I think they're stayin,'" he finishes with a small smile in my direction.
We get to mama's house, and Eli approaches me with a serious look on his face.
"We're makin' a difference, Em. Just you watch. Railways will be all over this great land of ours. Don't be surprised when it happens," he says with a grin, and he ruffles my hair before they take off for their own homes.
Emmett and I are pulled from the memory, and he's shocked into silence. Not only has he been given positive reinforcement on the difference he made to shape America's future in transportation, but he got to relive memories made with his beloved brothers, too. Bella taps him with her elbow, trying to bring him out of his trance. Thankfully, Mac is cleaning his lens and doesn't notice that Emmett's been mute for a few seconds. Rose is getting worried, hoping her husband's okay. Finally, he snaps out of it, and a brilliant smile lights his face.
"Thank you, Bella," he says softly, overwhelmed and humbled. "Thank you," he says one more time, and I can see Bella's eyes begin to mist. "You're so very welcome, Em," she responds, shaking her head to clear her mind. She may not get to see the memories we do, but she can sense how awed and emotional we are afterwards.
This is one of the greatest gifts I could have ever been given.
Both Bella and Emmett think this at the same time, and I'm touched by how they've both been affected by her gift. Rose doesn't have much time to speak with her husband before she's up with her own antique, but she quickly intertwines her fingers with his and whispers that she loves him, and walks up to Bella with a soft smile.
"Welcome to the Roadshow, Rose," Bella begins again as Rose places her item on the table. "What do you have for us today?" she queries, excited. She's already noted that Rose's piece is unique, and she can't wait to get started with her assessment.
This is just… good lord, I've never seen a diamond this big in my life. And the color is just brilliant.
"I brought a ring, which I was told belonged to my grandmother on my mother's side. I don't know much about it, other than the diamond is real. I only wear it occasionally," she says, curiosity lighting her features.
"You'd be correct. This is a real diamond. An extremely rare and colorful diamond at that. This particular cut was invented by Joseph Asscher in 1902. You can tell here," Bella says as she points out the cut of the stone, "that it's kind of octagon-shaped. It was a precursor to the emerald cut, and this became a very sought after cut in the '20s and '30s. Then it kind of fell out of style. Right now, these octagon cut diamonds are extremely hot in the market. But what's really unusual about this diamond is the color. It's yellow, and it most resembles what you would call canary yellow, though that term is no longer used. Now, to assess value, we look at it and judge by the intensity of the color," she says as she tilts and measures the stone.
"Usually, the darker the yellow is, the more valuable the ring. This kind of ring has so many different facets and cuts, that it's a bit harder to measure. From what I can deduct, this is a 3.25 carat stone, which is an important size for an Asscher cut – and especially for a yellow diamond. This particular ring was made in the early '30s. The stone is set in a platinum, pierced mounting, and it's very delicate. Are you ready for the shocker?" Bella asks, animated.
"Am I?" Rose replies, eyeing the ring, knowing she's also about to receive a human memory.
"Yes, you are," Bella answers confidently. "At auction, this ring would sell for $85,000 to $125,000. And this is a conservative number. You have a wonderful gem here. No pun intended," she says, snickering again. Mac snorts out loud, unable to control it.
This is why we love her. She's kind of a dork, he thinks, amused.
Bella consciously touches Rose's hand as she places the ring into it, and I'm taken into a memory of Rose when she was 15 years old. She's sitting with her grandmother, talking about the woes of learning how to dance.
"You know I'm not much of a dancer, grandma. Plus, the new Nancy Drew books just came out!" I say, thinking about the mysteries sitting on my dresser at home. It's May, 1930, and the brand-new Nancy Drew series had just been released the last week of April. "I'm not at all graceful, you know. I don't think there's much hope for me to learn the Lindy Hop or the Balboa," I sigh forlornly.
"Oh, that's just nonsense!" grandma says with gusto. "You'll catch on in no time, and you'll have so much fun. The joy of dancing has gotten us through some tough times, what with the Depression and all. And don't forget these bozos saying we can't have a drink anymore, either. Prohibition my ass," she states with a firm nod.
I gasp, shocked that my grandma has just said a bad word. I always knew she was feisty and energetic, and she's certainly better company than my parents. All they want to do is dress me up and parade me around like a toy. I want more than this debutante life.
"All right, all right," I concede, humoring her. "Why don't you put on some music, and you can teach me how to do it?" I ask, feeling brave.
"Sure thing, sweet pea," she says as she turns on the radio. Soon enough, the sound of George Gershwin's "Embraceable You" fills the air, and it's time to dance. Grandma grabs my hands, places my feet where they should go, and our lesson begins.
Before I know it, I'm memorizing the steps and moves like I've been at it for years. We're giggling like mad, out of breath and thirsty, when grandma says she'll be right back with refreshments.
She walks back into the room, carrying a tray of lemonade and finger sandwiches as well as a small velvet pouch. She hands me my glass and opens the pouch, pulling out a small box.
"This is one of my prettiest baubles," she says, holding the brilliant yellow ring up to the light. It sparkles and shines like the brightest star in the sky and it's utterly mesmerizing. "I thought this was costume jewelry when it was first given to me by your grandfather, but I think it's more than that. It was meant to shine on your finger, Rosalie. I can see that you desire more than what your parents want for you. You're a precious gem. Don't ever forget that."
Rose is taken out of the memory, and I find that a smile has taken residence on both our faces. Rose is overjoyed that she got to relive a treasured memory with her grandmother.
Oh, grandma. I miss you so much. It's comforting to know that I was valued in my human life. It's just… I know my parents loved me, in their own way. But this was so validating. Your mate kicks so much ass for this, Edward.
As Mac continues to film, Rose reacts to the numbers Bella has given her.
"Oh my word. My grandmother thought at one point that this was costume jewelry. She would've been floored by this. Thank you so, so much," she says, beaming. Rose is on cloud nine and can't wait to share her human memory with Emmett.
"You're up next, loverboy," Mac whispers with a smirk, and I take my place in front of the camera.
"Welcome again, Edward," Bella says, giving me her smile. The one that's just for me.
"What have you brought me today?" she asks, eyeing my antique.
Mirror mirror upon the wall, who's the fairest of them all? Well… you can't really put this one on a wall. But it's lovely. And different.
"This is a mirror I found in my storage room that belonged to my mother. It seems pretty old, and it's quite different than most mirrors I've seen," I say with interest. Personally, I think it's an odd mirror because it has a base that kind of resembles something between lily pads and peacock feathers.
"Well, it is old, you're right," Bella says as she studies it. "This is a Tiffany Studios Peacock mirror, and it was crafted in 1905. This is one of the smaller variations, as well as one of the less elaborate," she says as she points toward the base.
"What's special about this mirror is you have these beautiful chased bronze peacock feathers, which are consistent all the way around the bottom, and are also inset with Tiffany glass. You have two types of glass here. Firstly, there's the type of glass that's used in a window or lamp, and secondly, there's this reflective glass that was used in mosaics. The peacock feather design is used all along the edge of the mirror, and on the back, the whole piece has been chased. The peacock design is the consummate Art Nouveau motif, and it was wildly popular during this time. It was used in stained-glass lamps, windows, and in Tiffany blown glass. This is a very special piece, and it's actually signed on the back, as you can see here," she says, pointing to the black signature. "It's stamped with 'Tiffany Studios, New York,' and there's very little damage on the surface."
"Do you have any idea what this is worth?" she asks.
"I knew nothing about it, until you got your expert hands on it," I answer with a wink. Bella laughs appreciatively and proceeds to give me her assessment.
"This mirror would sell in a shop for $25,000, at least. Many a collector would love to have this piece," she says, though she knows I wouldn't sell a thing I've brought to her.
"I'm sure they would. But I'd never sell something with sentimental value," I state with a grin.
I know you wouldn't, babe. The audience doesn't know that, though. I hope the memory you receive will be a good one.
As my segment draws to a close, Bella makes sure to hand my antique back to me while caressing my hand. I'm taken back to 1905, and I've just turned nine years old.
I just received my first pair of roller skates, and I think they're the best birthday present ever. Mom and dad said I could go outside with my friends, George and Thomas, to skate on the road while it wasn't busy. My birthday is on a Tuesday this year, and we don't have school in June. Now I'm really happy we have the summer off.
"Let's go, Georgie! C'mon, Tom!" I yell, impatient to get started with my skates. We race outside, playfully jostling one another while we sit to put them on. Mine are tough to get my feet into and they're made of brand-new leather. I stand up and wobble, unsure of my footing. These things will be hard to get used to.
Tom and Georgie take the time to teach me how to gain the best footing, and it doesn't take me long to get the hang of it. We zip up and down the street, whooping with laughter, but my skate gets caught on a twig. Before I know it, I'm flying through the air, and I cry out as my hands and knees take the brunt of my fall and my head whacks the ground, but not too hard. The open wounds sting with dirt and pebbles, and I just want my mom to fix it. I don't want my friends to think I'm a patsy, though. I'm surprised when Georgie and Tom pick me up, one arm apiece, and ask if I'm all right.
"Yeah, guys, I'll be fine. I think my mom has some stuff to put on these cuts. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" I ask, hoping our fun won't end. I still want to enjoy my skates. I'll skate all day if my parents let me, and I won't let this fall get me down for too long.
"Sure, Eddie," they answer with matching grimaces. "We've had plenty of spills on these things. We know it smarts. We'll be waitin' for you, don't worry," Tom says as Georgie nods in agreement. I turn to go into the house, and I allow the pain to set in. Mom comes from the kitchen and gasps as she sees the blood on my face. My head isn't hurting too badly, and I think it's just a small cut. My hands and knees are scraped up worse.
"Oh, Edward, sweetie, what happened?" she asks, knowing I've fallen down. She tugs me gently to the bathroom, mindful of the cuts on my hands.
"I just fell, mom," I say, trying to downplay the pain. Tears spring to my eyes, no matter how hard I try to keep them at bay. She nods her head and gathers bandages and antiseptic from the medicine cabinet and begins tending to my wounds.
"Thank goodness you didn't hit your head any harder," she says as she cleans the cut at my temple. "If it was any deeper, we would've had to get you surgical sutures!" she exclaims, fretting. Father walks by the bathroom and sees the state we're both in. He pauses, propping his arm in the doorway. His eyes are soft and understanding, and he has a slight grimace on his face as he looks at my cuts.
"Ah, my son. It looks like you took a nasty spill. Those cuts hurt, don't they?" he asks as I feebly nod my head and try to wipe the tears from my eyes. "I remember when I was a young boy, playing sport with my friends. We were playing baseball, and I slid into first base, cutting my leg open on a jagged rock on the playing field. My trousers were caked with blood and dirt, and I remember telling my friends I had to go home so that my mother could tend to my wound. I felt like a pansy. But, after my mother took care of my wound, do you know what she said?" I shake my head no, looking at him anxiously. "She said that showing emotion wasn't a sign of weakness, and that only fools were allowing their sons to believe that expressing sadness was an imperfection in society. Thankfully, my father agreed. And I'm here to tell you the same. As human beings, where would we be without it?" he says softly, shifting his gaze to my mom. I notice that she blushes and ducks her head. They seem to have their own secret language.
Before I go outside, I check my head in the weird mirror my mom put in the sitting room. It doesn't look as bad as I thought it would, and I'm back outside with my pals a few minutes later, cuts and scrapes forgotten, with my father's message fresh in my mind.
I'm plucked out of the memory, feeling blessed and thankful as usual. "Thank you, love," I whisper gratefully before telling Bella that I'm going to tour Gatlinburg with Em and Rose for the rest of the day. I told Bella beforehand that Emmett's originally from here. We make plans to meet later in the evening and I'm just about to leave when a thought occurs to me.
"Would you like to fly back in our plane tomorrow?" I ask, hoping she will.
"I'd like to, yes," she says confidently. She's had some time to get used to the fact that our family has an exorbitant amount of money, and she's becoming more comfortable allowing me to spend some of it on her.
"Let me arrange for someone else to use my original commercial ticket," she says, starting to make her way in front of the camera once more. "I'll see you later," we both say with smiles on our faces.
A/N:
I quoted Snow White and the Seven Dwarves this time. The exact quote: "Mirror mirror upon the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" is open for interpretation, as the context in multiple publications of books and movies vary.
As always, I thank and love you all so much for your kind words regarding this story of mine. It's been fun to write, and it's been just as fun to interact with everyone!
Twitter is where I allow others to be subjected to all my eccentricities and randomness. I swear its fun! Find me there (at)conqueredthesky.