AN: Ok, didn't post in a week, so I'm still waiting for all my precious readers to flock back. I'm aiming for at least 4 chapters this week, but I promise if I cannot do that, you'll at least get 3 cause I don't like pausing between chapters, so I just hope everyone's caught up and ready to go. Btw, everyone go out and get 'Details' magazine Rob is in it...looking fine! Oh and btw everyone show love to 'Twilight432' who is my beta reader 'cause Lord I needed one, so everyone thank her.
Better in Time
Chapter Twenty-Four::::
CARLISE P.O.V
This is nice. Everything about this life is so nice and consistent, I can't change a thing. Here I am a year over 50 and I now choose to live the best segments of my life. I look and feel younger--save for a few graying hairs and sparce fine lines hidden on the corners of my face I've never felt so revived. Every morning here in Brittany, France, where I've chosen to escape from the chaotic world I was thrust into becomes more and more enjoyable. Of our two houses in France--the one in Lyon and the one in Brittany Esme and I always flock back here. Each morning is the same and I'm fine with that; I wake up to my lovely wife Esme, who too doesn't look her age. She smiles at me, as the light shines from the rays of the sun just now peaking through the sky casting a brilliant zenith of light and renewal. We embrace and then start to make breakfast, we each have our own roles in this process but usually Esme's baking the fully proofed dough she made from the night before, which goes on to become cinnamon sweet buns, cresents, breads--anything we're in the mood for. I get to pressing the fresh fruit for juice; this morning we're having orange, and to be different I put it in a pulpy mix of the left over blueberries Esme used in yesterday's muffin mix.
"Carlise, did you get the paper?" Esme asks in her sweet tone
"Not yet, I'll get do it now," I say, planting a soft kiss a top her head while bustling for the door. I step outside and see the ocean, which is a classic component to Brittany. The rustic air of a land paved by the marn and to be even slightly a part of it each morning makes me happy.
"Bonjour Monsieur Cullen!" the passing neighborhood boy, on his way to school, says waving innocently as he passes.
"Bonjour Jerome!" I call back out, with the paper tucked in my hand and retreat back inside. I walk over to my wife, who is hunched over zesting a lemon for the dough.
"Was that Jerome?" Esme asks smiling.
"Bien sur love." I reply, delivering another kiss this time to her lips
"That kid loves you." Esme says smirking while kneading the dough
"I'm a neighborhood favorite." I say smiling, whilst opening my paper
"Have you given any new thought about us adopting?" Esme asks and I was slightly afraid of this. I've been borderline with the whole prospect, ever since it was brought to my attention and each day I know Esme just wants it more and more. I'm afraid to tell her what I really want, which is just her and me until the day we die. I feel as if I've spent the majority of our life together contributing to others. She had Emmett when she was nineteen, while we were still students, living abroad in Asia; from there it's been a crazy rollercoaster ride chock full of life out of a suitcase. It's just now that I feel like we can connect, but I don't want to sound selfish.
"Aren't Edward and Alex adopting soon?" I ask, breaking my pause for thought.
"I don't even know, but things are serious, obviously." Esme says, while shaping the dough.
"Well, they will adopt eventually. I know Edward wants to go to China soon, so who knows," I say, hoping to move on from the topic
"But yeah, when will we actually get to see them, I mean, don't you miss having kids in the house? I know I do. Everyone's so far, I mean, Alice is in Canada, Edward's always traveling, Jazz and Emmett are in Texas and Lord knows where Rose is," She says, and I feel the emotional strain in her voice it's that sound of longing, even with all the seclusion, beauty and completeness of life here, she still misses the past in all of it's chaotic beauty. She misses everything, even that stocked up old mansion back in Forks, God bless it.
"I've been thinking a lot about the past and the old house--"
"Oh, goodness," I say endearingly.
"What, don't you miss it even just a little bit?" Esme says with a reminiscent smile.
"Not since the day we packed our things and left," I say smugly, flipping my page over.
"Well, it's nice to think about the past 'cause in the end, it's all you have left, right?" she says, while placing the dough in the oven.I glance over at my watch and see it's a quarter to ten.
"I'd better go take a shower, before it gets any later," I say, placing my paper down and walking over to the bathroom down the hall.I hate to just leave Esme answerleess like that, but I just can't decide as to what I want right now. The way I see things is she's just going through a phase right now of missing the kids, you know what I am too old, I really am, but adoption, and all this other stuff isn't gonna fix things. I think we just all need to get together, yeah, that's probably right. I turn on the warm water and step in, letting the steam open my pores and clear my mind; everything will be ok, this is how everything will stay. I think to myself while rubbing my body down with the hand-crafted soap we bought while down in Provence; the light lilly scent is a reminder that there's no better place I wanna be than here. A life spent devoted to others is never worth anything, unless you can be happy with yourself. All I want is my life is here, a quiet life with little interruption and simplicity. I smile at the thought of how peaceful things have been and realize I'm just getting too worked up over things. I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself, still wearing my smile. I can't help but feel like I left Esme bruised by my sudden departure, and walk back into the kitchen to make things up.
"Shhh," She says softly, with the phone plastered to her ear.
"Who is it?" I ask surprised, holding up my towel while I'm still dripping.
"It's Edward," Esme says, in a serious tone, her face crinkled.
"What's happening--is he ok?" I ask confused
"Wait...what?" Esme asks Edward "What are you doing in Forks?"
"Forks?" I repeat.
"Wait, Edward just stay calm. I'm putting Carlise on now," she says, and passes me the phone.
"Edward, what's going on?" I demand.
"Dad, long story, short, I came back to Forks for the weekend 'cause that's where Rose has been staying--"
"How is Rose there? There's not even any lights in the place. What's going on?" I bark.
"Dad, it's too long. There's just so much drama here, but Jacob got released from jail." Edward tells me.
"Jacob who?!" I ask completely confused, and sick of not knowing what in the hell is going on.
"JACOB BLACK!"
I feel suddenly as if I've been stabbed in the chest with those words, and suddenly I'm back in a sea of white--Forks hospital 8 years before, nurses and doctors shaking their heads without words."Is Edward ok?" I hear myself asking all over again, with a procession of echoes and double vision, filled lucid memories of stern faces and the countless tears down my children's facades. Then, there was the blood the blood on white skin, staining my youngest child's body. Then, the painful feeling of not being able to do anything comes. I drop the phone to the ground, just stand there motionless and trembling
"Carlise...Carlise are you there?" I hear Edward ask from the phone and Esme picks up the phone her face now, ghostly white.
"What's going on?" She asks, in a high pitched scream. I just start to walk away, with the towel still by my waist, throwing my hands up in the air in utter fatigue.