Carlisle and Esme were scheduled to arrive on December 23. They planned to take the train from St. Paul to Portland; he told me he would arrange a private car, providing Esme with relative isolation from the other passengers. In Portland he would purchase a horse and carriage, then they would spend the next day traveling to my modest home.
Much as I hated to be away from Bella, I decided it would be best if I greeted Carlisle and Esme alone. There was still a great deal I wished to tell them about Bella before they met her. So I returned to my house before dark and waited.
I heard the horses when they were perhaps half a mile away. I stoked the fire and unnecessarily tidied the room as I listened to the wheels turning over the hard earth. Finally I stepped outside just as the carriage came into view.
It was a handsome conveyance, fully enclosed, and two sturdy horses pulled it. Carlisle sat at the reins, Esme snuggled next to him, her arm through his. The moment they saw me, both waved, grins spreading across their faces.
Esme hopped down lithely from the moving carriage and darted to me. Immediately I enveloped her in my arms.
"Edward," she breathed, "oh, how I've missed you! Are you well?"
She looked up, lifting her hands to my face. For an instant I tensed as her skin touched mine, but of course I felt nothing.
"I am," I replied, smiling. "And you?"
She nodded. "I'm fine—better than the last time you saw me."
"I suppose I could say the same," I responded with a wry grin.
Carlisle had stopped the horses, looping the reins to a tree. He loped forward gracefully, always an elegant figure. Esme stepped aside, and he pulled me into his arms.
"Son. I am so very glad to see you."
"As am I you," I said sincerely. "How was the trip?"
"Uneventful," he answered with a flicker of a smile toward Esme. I knew he had been worried about her control, but it seemed she had done well.
"Would you like to hunt?" I immediately offered. "There are deer in abundance—"
"Thank you, but we hunted last night, and we stopped for a quick bite after we left Portland," Esme said. "I think we're fine for now."
"Then please come inside," I offered.
Esme enjoyed seeing the furniture she had ordered for me, and Carlisle admired my handiwork with the hearth. We chatted amiably, casually, for some time. Then Carlisle went back to the carriage to bring in their luggage. Esme took one of the bags into the small back room, where she wished to change her clothes and comb out her hair.
Carlisle and I stood before the fire. "You look well," he told me.
"I am."
"Have you had any interactions with others, aside from Miss Swan?" he asked, his tone a mixture of both professional and paternal interest.
"A few," I replied with slight reticence.
He read my expression and tone perfectly. "Tell me about it, son," he encouraged gently.
I sighed. "I suppose I should start with Bella. When I met her, I had not been in the presence of another human in over a month. I was feeling relatively good, clear-headed and calm. I spoke with her several times but had no close contact. The same was true for those few individuals I met when I went to town to mail the first letter to you. Several days later I happened to pass Bella's house and found her very ill. She had developed septicaemia, from a cut on her leg—"
"Edward! You didn't try to treat her?" he asked, visibly shaken by the thought.
"When I first touched her, I felt nothing," I explained quickly, wishing to allay his fear as soon as possible. "She had a fever of 103, and the wound was, of course, very painful, but I experienced none of her sensations in my own body. I attended her until she was well, and never once did I feel any physical discomfort."
"How can that be?" he queried.
"I thought I had lost my ability," I replied. "It seemed the only logical explanation. Perhaps my breakdown had damaged the skill irrevocably… I assumed it had. Unfortunately, I was wrong."
He shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand—"
"Carlisle, as far as I can determine, Bella is the only individual upon whom my skill doesn't work. I felt pain and discomfort from several of the townspeople subsequent to my interactions with Bella, yet when I touch her I feel absolutely none of the sensations she is experiencing."
"That is fascinating," he commented. "Have you any idea why?"
"To the best of my knowledge, she feels pain normally, and she has no anomalies in nerve conduction." I gave him a lop-sided grin as I finished, "She is a charming mystery to me."
"You are very fond of her," he stated.
"I am."
He placed his hand upon my shoulder, his expression shifting to worry once again. "Edward, you must be cautious. Humans are so fragile—"
"She knows what I am," I interjected.
Carlisle blinked in utter astonishment. "She… does?"
I nodded. "She figured it out, Carlisle. She's extremely bright and perceptive, and her compassion is astounding. She accepts me completely, with no fear. Being with her—being able to form a connection with another being—I feel it has made me whole again."
"Oh son…" He still appeared troubled. "I can see how much you care for her, but you must realize that there are considerations—"
I lifted a hand. "Please, Carlisle, just meet her with an open mind. After you've spent some time with her, then we can recommence this conversation, if you feel it's necessary. But I would ask you to defer any judgments or opinions until you've become acquainted with Bella."
"All right. And when will we make the pleasure of her acquaintance?"
"Tomorrow morning."
We passed the night in pleasant discourse. Carlisle told me about his work at the hospital and several of the more interesting cases he had treated. Esme described her latest decorating projects and shyly admitted that she had begun painting with oils. Carlisle complimented her work, telling me that she was a talented artist. I am certain she would have blushed if she were able.
Both Esme and Carlisle asked me more questions about Bella. I explained the circumstances surrounding her recent arrival in Oregon, eliciting Esme's deep sympathy when I mentioned Charlie's death. Esme had overheard my previous conversation with Carlisle, of course, and she was interested to know more about my abilities, or lack thereof, with Bella.
I noticed Esme's secret smile early in the conversation. Each time I mentioned Bella, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. I suppose it was obvious to her how I felt about Bella, but she refrained from saying anything aloud.
As the night wore on, our conversation became more candid. I admitted to Carlisle and Esme that I had considered practicing medicine again when I believed I had lost my ability. I believe Esme would have wept if she could when I expressed my disappointment at learning that my beloved profession would remain closed to me. Carlisle's sympathy flowed through his touch, and for a moment I thought I felt a twinge in my own chest.
As the sky began to lighten, my mood improved considerably. I would see Bella soon, and Carlisle and Esme would get to meet the woman I loved. Carlisle and I changed into slightly dressier clothes, and I attempted to tame my unruly hair with vigorous combing. Shortly after 9:00 we climbed into the carriage and drove off toward Bella's home. I could not recall feeling so excited since I was a child on Christmas morning.
I could hear Bella's frantic heartbeat from the porch. Despite my reassurances, she remained anxious about meeting my surrogate parents. I knocked on the door, and she opened it, her eyes quickly moving from Carlisle's handsome form to Esme's beautiful face.
"Dr. and Mrs. Cullen," she said softly, "welcome." She wore her emerald wool dress, and her hair was pinned up in a very pretty twist at the back of her neck. Tiny pearl teardrops hung from her ears. She had never looked lovelier to me.
She held out her hand, and Carlisle took it, lifting it to kiss her knuckles gently. "It is a pleasure to meet you, dear," he said. His smile was genuine and warm.
Bella clasped Esme's hand next, earning another smile and more words of greeting. I was grinning as I watched the proceedings, and once the introductions had been completed, I bent to kiss Bella's warm cheek.
"Happy holidays," I told her.
She smiled, and I could see that much of her tension had dissipated. She showed us inside, taking everyone to the small parlor. Esme admired the tree, examining the ornaments with interest. Soon we were all seated, Carlisle and Esme on the settee, while Bella and I sat in the chairs I had brought in from the kitchen.
"Is there anything I can get you?" Bella asked graciously. Then a blush spread over her cheeks. "I mean, is there anything you… need? Um, I've seen deer and bobcats in the woods…"
Carlisle chuckled. "We've already eaten, but we appreciate the offer."
"Yes," Esme added, "thank you for thinking of us. It's very kind of you."
I reached for Bella's hand and gave her a smile. I noticed Carlisle's eyes upon our joined hands. His professional interest was piqued.
"Edward has been such a wonderful help to me," Bella was saying softly. "I don't know what I would have done without him. He is the kindest individual I have ever met."
Esme and Carlisle smiled with pride. After a pleasant conversation about Boise and St. Paul, I was prevailed upon to play my violin. Esme said she had missed my music terribly, an entreaty I could not deny.
I performed a variety of Christmas carols and seasonal hymns, earning applause and praise from my small—and admittedly biased—audience. Still, the joy my music brought them was a great pleasure to me.
I insisted that Bella eat when it was lunchtime. She was embarrassed by the prospect, whispering to me that she felt it quite rude when she had nothing to offer my parents. I told her that I would show them around the property and introduce them to Callie and Stanley, giving her a few minutes of privacy in which to obtain some sustenance. She agreed, and I took Carlisle and Esme outside.
We strolled past the fields then looped back to the barn. Callie greeted the guests with a round of lowing and took a step back when she saw me.
"I don't think she's ever quite forgiven me for my first efforts to milk her," I commented.
Carlisle and Esme laughed at the image I painted as I tried to describe my initial interactions with the gentle cow. Then we walked along the edge of the copse, finally nearing Charlie's grave.
We paused by the small hill, and I told them a bit about Mr. Swan. Carlisle bowed his head reverently as his lips moved in prayer, while Esme murmured sympathetic words. As we strolled back toward the house at a very leisurely pace, Esme commented on the remoteness of the homestead.
"She must feel so lonely out here," she said.
"She's not often alone," I replied immediately. Perhaps I had not made that clear earlier.
"How much time do you spend here?" asked Carlisle.
"I'm with her all day and most of the evening," I replied.
They exchanged glances, but I could not decipher the underlying meaning. We were nearing the house, but I paused to ask, "What do you think of her?"
"She's lovely," Esme answered immediately.
"She's very charming," Carlisle added, "and seems quite bright. She's comfortable with us, too—which I honestly wasn't expecting."
"I told you she's very special," I uttered.
Esme nodded and looped her arm through mine as we continued on to the house. Bella had finished eating and was back in the parlor. When we entered, she was kneeling before the Christmas tree. She stood, turning to us with a smile.
"This is a wonderful piece of property," Carlisle said.
"Thank you," she replied.
Her gaze flicked beneath the tree, and I saw that several neatly wrapped presents had appeared. I gave her a quizzical look.
Bella bent to pick up the presents, then, blushing prettily, handed a gift to Carlisle and another to Esme. "Merry Christmas," she said a bit shyly.
"Oh Bella!" Esme exclaimed, truly surprised, "my goodness, how very thoughtful of you."
"Thank you, dear," said Carlisle.
Bella smiled and gestured toward the settee with a softly spoken, "Please."
My parents sat, and Esme carefully unwrapped her presents. Inside a small, flat box was a linen handkerchief, beautifully embroidered with the letter E surrounded by delicate flowers.
"It's lovely!" Esme said, beaming up at Bella. "Thank you so much."
"I didn't know what you'd like," Bella began a bit reticently.
"I adore flowers," Esme replied warmly. "This is exquisite work."
Bella's blush deepened as she murmured, "Thank you."
Carlisle removed the paper from his gift. I was curious to see what Bella had gotten for him; I hadn't realized she had prepared presents for either him or Esme, so I was as surprised as they were.
Carlisle's gift was a bookmark. It was made of soft leather, but the edges were lined with heavy, deep gold thread, and a C had been meticulously stitched into the top half.
"Did you make this?" he asked.
Bella nodded. "It came from one of my father's belts. I thought… well, you're Edward's father, so it just seemed right that one father would share with another."
Carlisle rose and pulled Bella into a gentle hug. "Thank you. This is the nicest gift I have ever received."
Esme was blinking, her tender-hearted nature bubbling forth even though her eyes could not produce tears. The attention clearly embarrassed Bella, so I drew her toward me with a hand at her waist.
"Thank you, love," I whispered. "This means a great deal to them."
She smiled up at me. Carlisle had not returned to his seat. He excused himself and left the house, while Esme continued to admire the handiwork on her handkerchief and on Carlisle's bookmark.
I wondered when Bella had found the time to work on the delicate projects without my awareness. She must have used those scant, late hours after I left and before she retired for the night.
Carlisle returned shortly with two packages in his hands.
"Merry Christmas, Bella," he said affably and he handed the gifts to her.
"Oh!" Now it was her turn to be surprised. "You shouldn't have! I wasn't expecting anything…"
"It's our pleasure," Esme said, scooting over so that Bella could sit beside her.
Bella was anxious, and I knew she worried that my parents had been too extravagant with her. I felt a bit concerned, too, knowing that she would be mortified at the thought of their spending any significant amounts of money on her.
She unwrapped the first present with slightly shaking hands. Inside, she found a thin book—a volume of poetry by Emily Dickinson.
"She's one of my favorites," Esme said. "I wasn't sure if you were familiar with her, but I find her imagery just lovely."
Bella nodded. "I've read a few of her poems; I liked them very much. Thank you." Her words were brief, but her gratitude was sincere.
She opened the second package. The small box contained a decorative comb. Delicate blue and white silk flowers adorned the piece at the top.
"It's lovely," Bella said, admiring the flowers. "Thank you so much."
"May I put it in your hair?" Esme asked.
Bella nodded, and Esme tucked the comb at the top of the twist then urged Bella to turn so that we could all see it.
"It's perfect," I proclaimed.
Bella, of course, was blushing again. But her pleasure was evident. She hugged Esme and thanked her and Carlisle again.
We spent another hour visiting, then Esme and Carlisle said that they wanted to take a drive before dark. After thanking Bella for her hospitality, they departed, telling me they would see me in the morning. I knew they planned to spend the night outside, celebrating the holiday privately before we all convened again.
Bella and I stood on the porch, waving as they drove away.
"They're wonderful," she said.
"They are. And they think the same about you."
"Really?" Her brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"
I smiled. "Yes, Bella, I am certain."
She exhaled slowly.
"I never had a single doubt," I told her.
We went back inside, where I kept her company as she prepared a light supper for herself then ate it. I stoked up the fire and urged her to come and sit with me on the settee. I had secreted several gifts behind her books, and now I retrieved them and set them before her.
"Edward, you shouldn't have," she said, but I could see the delight in her eyes.
"Open them," I encouraged with a smile.
Grinning, she unwrapped the first present. It was a box of lilac-scented soap, a minor but well-deserved luxury for her. She removed the lid and inhaled slowly. "Mmm, it smells wonderful," she murmured. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," I replied.
She opened the next package. Inside was a pair of butter-soft kidskin gloves, one of the nicest items available at the Webers' store. Bella wore knitted gloves that I knew were not terribly warm, and I did not wish for her hands to feel chilled. I slid the gloves onto her small hands, glad that they fit perfectly.
She was beaming as she removed the paper from the third gift. It was a tin of imported anise biscuits. She laughed and removed the lid to sample one, reporting that it was delicious.
The last present was a cashmere scarf. This item had come from St. Paul, purchased by Esme at my written request. The soft, warm fabric was dove gray, which complimented Bella's coloring nicely. She caressed the cashmere and told me that it was too extravagant, but after I wrapped it around her neck she smiled and thanked me.
I leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You're very welcome."
"Wait right here," she said, standing then crouching to reach around behind the Christmas tree. She pulled out three additional gifts.
"For me?" I asked, once again surprised.
She nodded and sat down beside me again, passing one of the presents to me. It was very light, and when I removed the paper I found a thin velvet sleeve.
"It's for your bow," she explained briefly.
"Did you make it?" I asked.
"Yes. Is it all right?"
I kissed her cheek again. "It's perfect."
The next item was a book, a collection of Keats' poetry.
"I didn't see this one on your shelves," she said.
"No, I don't have this volume. Thank you, Bella. Keats is among my favorite poets."
She smiled. "I remember your telling me that."
Knowing that she had spent her limited funds, as well as taken the time to order the book for me, I had to kiss her other cheek in appreciation.
Her final gift to me was a soft, cotton hand towel upon which she had embroidered my initials surrounded by a handsome diamond pattern. She had used sliver and blue thread, interspersing the strands to give the embroidery a slight shimmer.
"It reminds me of your skin in the sunshine," she told me with a confidential smile.
"I love it," I responded, kissing her hands and forehead.
"Merry Christmas, Edward," she said, cuddling into my embrace.
"Merry Christmas, my beautiful Bella," replied, holding her warm, soft body in my arms, relishing the feel of her.
My eyes wandered to the presents strewn around us, and I smiled as I thought about the gift yet to come. In the morning, I would offer her one more gift, the most important I had ever given.
To be continued...