Chapter 25

December 31, 1930

Three years had passed since Edward had gone. Carlisle and Esme were in the beginning stages of serious talks about relocating. In total, they had been in Maine for just under a decade and had plans to go to New York in the early months of 1931.

Carlisle had already made the hospital aware that he would be leaving within the matter of a few months, though they gracefully offered to allow him to work until he was completely ready to go.

Since he had started his employment, the members of the hospital put on an extravagant New Year's Eve party, though Carlisle and Esme had never attended. They kept their interaction with his co-workers as short and sweet as possible, but made it a point to be kind and generous when the occasions arose.

Considering the two of them would soon be leaving, they decided to go to the party for a few hours simply to make an appearance. Esme felt bad that the people her husband worked with were always asking him to join them in such occasions and he was obligated to decline. She knew he wished to have friends outside of their kind and so she was the one who offered to go.

The attire was semi-formal and well before midnight there were bottles of champagne being passed around. Tables against one wall were filled with appetizer type foods, while another wall had a large variety of main courses. It was rare that the two of them had to force down human food, though both of them knew they would have to that night in order to play the part.

"Try not to breath in when you take a bite," Carlisle whispered to Esme as she threw the mixings of a salad and some breaded chicken on her plate. He gave her a wink and she couldn't help but smile.

He looks so handsome, she thought, watching Carlisle go through the line just ahead of her. He took as little as possible, though filled a good portion of his plate, and then escorted her in front of him so they could get back to their table.

"Dr. Cullen," an old man with white hair and a moustache called, making himself comfortable in one of the many seats next to them.

"Dr. Mitchell, how are you?" he asked, shaking the man's hand with a smile.

"I'm glad you've finally made it to one of our New Year's Eve parties." He gave a jolly laugh and Esme could see the redness in his cheeks that accompanied a full glass of champagne.

"This is my wife, Esme," Carlisle said, "Esme, this is Michael Mitchell. He's the best doctor at the hospital."

The man smiled, taking Esme's hand, "It's nice to meet you, my dear."

She grinned, "Nice to meet you, too."

"My wife's around here somewhere," he told them, looking around, "It's hard to keep track of her at these things. We never get out."

Carlisle laughed, "Yeah. We, uh," he looked at Esme, "We stay home quite a bit ourselves."

"Well, I'm glad you can make it," he said again, just as friendly, "But don't get the wrong impression. This is the only night of the year when I have a few extra, if you know what I mean." He put his hand up in a drinking motion, making Carlisle and Esme laugh.

"Have a good time," Carlisle told him with a grin.

"It was nice meeting you Mrs. Cullen," Dr. Mitchell said. He excused himself from the table and made his way back up toward the food.

Esme looked at Carlisle and smiled, "He seemed… friendly."

He snickered, "He's a good guy. He takes the job very seriously."

She nodded and smiled as Carlisle leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, "You look beautiful," he whispered, "I may have to fight off all the men in the room."

Esme tried not to giggle at his comment, but couldn't help it, "Please. I've seen some of these women staring for far too long in your direction." Her eyes drifted toward where two women in their twenties sat talking with martinis. "Over there, for instance." She pointed when they looked away.

Carlisle laughed and pulled her chair toward him a few inches so her leg was against the side of his, "My eyes are only for you."

"It's not your eyes I'm concerned about." Esme smiled, not jealous, but completely aware of the women who had lent their eyes to her husband.

"You have nothing to be jealous of," he whispered, catching part of her ear with his lips purposely.

"I'm not jealous," she said with a grin, "I'm just simply pointing out what I've noticed."

"Well, how about him," Carlisle said, he openly pointed to a man who was staring at Esme.

She laughed as he quickly moved his eyes elsewhere and took a sip of his drink. "Carlisle, don't point at him."

He chuckled, "I'm just making it clear who you belong to."

Esme grinned again and looked at him in the eyes, "I love you."

"I love you, too." He reached over to the table and held up a small glass of champagne, making Esme do the same.

"Are we going to toast?" she asked.

Carlisle nodded, "To… us."

She smiled again, "To us." She tapped her glass against his and took a small sip.

A slower song began to play and Carlisle held out his hand, "Care to dance?"

Esme took his hand and stood up, letting him lead her out onto the dance floor. He carefully and slowly swayed them back and forth to the music, pressing the side of his face against Esme's for the first half of the song.

Dr. Mitchell and his wife were close by. Carlisle shifted his eyes up to meet his co-worker's, who gave him a thumbs up, appearing to have only put down the alcoholic beverages for the sake of the dance.

Carlisle laughed and took his hand away from Esme's to wave and return the gesture. Her eyes followed to where he was looking and she laughed as the man stumbled to complete the dance with his wife.

"He's something else, huh?" she asked with a wide smile.

Carlisle snickered, "He really is very professional around the building."

Esme continued to glow, happy to be in Carlisle's arms for the remainder of the song. She suddenly wished there were more opportunities for them to dance and hoped that maybe in the future they could attend similar events together.

The intimate nature of their surroundings made Esme want to kiss him, though she knew he wasn't one for public displays of affection. It was to her surprise that he leaned in and gave her a single kiss on the lips before returning to his original position with his face against hers.

Carlisle felt her smiling and whispered into her ear, "Yeah…"

"Yeah, what?" she asked him.

"Yeah… it is far more difficult to control my thirst for you, Esme."

She giggled and pulled him a little tighter against her for the last thirty seconds, or so, of the song.

"Why don't we finish our… dinner," he suggested, "And go home."

Esme smiled, "Alright. I feel like this crowd will get a little rowdy by midnight, anyway."

He grinned and led her back to their table once more to attempt to finish the human food provided for them. When they had gotten down as much as they possibly could, Carlisle began making his rounds to say goodbye to his co-workers.

Esme politely said her greetings and farewells by his side before they made their way back home.

Carlisle pulled the car into their driveway after making it up the steep quarter mile drive to their home. He opened Esme's door and helped her out of the car.

"You're so beautiful, Esme," he told her again, letting his thumb drift beneath her chin for a moment.

She couldn't help but feel elated by his words and the gentle, subtle touch of his hand. Esme returned the gesture and guided his face to hers; giving him a few closed-mouth kisses.

They wandered up to the doorway and Carlisle was about to unlock it when Esme looked up to where her note to Edward was formerly pinned.

"My note's gone," she said in shock.

Carlisle looked confused, "The pin's been removed."

"The wind wouldn't have done that… right?"

He continued to stare at the place where the note had been placed for every day in the last three years. Esme had not once left the house without leaving a note for the young man they still looked at like a son.

"Maybe the spot got warn out from the amount of times you've put the note up," he suggested with a shrug. His eyes scanned the ground directly beneath where they stood.

Esme followed his gaze and neither of them saw any evidence of the tack. "Where is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, squatting down, "I don't see it anywhere over here."

The two of them continued to look around before Carlisle finally guided Esme inside, "It may have been a big gust of wind."

She nodded, seeming to be slightly disappointed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Carlisle hugged her and rubbed her back, then kissed her on the cheek. He knew what she was thinking.

"Why don't we each have a glass of that special wine?" he suggested, "It is New Year's Eve."

Esme nodded and allowed him to pour them a few glasses. They hadn't had the beverage much, if at all, since the day Edward concocted it on a whim. It was very rare that either of them indulged in such things, though they each knew a glass wouldn't be of much harm.

Carlisle handed Esme her glass, then pulled her forehead to meet his lips, "I don't think we should change the toast," he told her.

She raised hers in the air just slightly, "Here's to you and me."

"Forever," he finished.

"Forever," Esme said.

Carlisle brought his lips back to hers before taking a sip of their home-made wine.

"The combination is quite breathtaking," Esme said with a laugh.

"What combination?" he asked her.

"Of you, the blood and the wine," she answered.

Carlisle kissed her again, and then pulled back, "I know what you mean."

Esme snickered and pulled him toward her again. Carlisle let his hands begin searching the back of her dress before he froze and looked around.

Esme felt a few quick breaths land on her face and his eyes made it seem like he was questioning something.

"What?" she asked him.

Carlisle remained in his statue-like position until Esme jolted upward, causing him to almost jump back.

"Edward," she said, smiling, "Edward. Right?" Her eyes frantically scanned Carlisle's face as his mouth hung partway open.

He hesitantly nodded before stepping back and the two of them ran outside.

"Edward!" Carlisle screamed, "Edward!?"

"Edward, are you here?" Esme called out at the same time.

The two of them waited in the darkness, scanning their surroundings before they both made out a figure at the far edge of the yard by the woods.

He walked slowly in their direction, almost methodically with his head bowed halfway. His posture was slumped, but he straightened up as he approached them in the darkness.

Esme took off running his direction. She threw her arms around him and pressed her hands against his back to make sure he wasn't in her imagination.

"How did you know I was coming?" he asked her.

"I didn't," she told her, smiling in shock.

"Your note…" he said, reaching in his pocket and lifting it so she could see, "I got your note."

"I've left you a note every day since you've left," she told him.

Edward gave her a half smile and his eyes stung with guilt. He looked over her shoulder at Carlisle, who approached them slowly.

"I'm sorry, Esme," Edward whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, honey," she said, stilling hugging him.

"Carlisle…" Edward said, shaking his head.

Esme stepped out of the way so he could get in a hug of his own.

"We've missed you, son," Carlisle told him.

Edward sighed, "I don't deserve it, but-"

"You can come home!" Esme said, before he could even ask, "This is your home."

He grinned and looked down, "I've been selfish, and stupid and immature."

Carlisle shook his head at the same time as Esme, "We're going to Rochester in late January or February. Would you mind relocating?"

"Would I mind?" Edward asked.

"Yes, we want to make sure you're comfortable with that," Carlisle told him.

"We can talk about it inside," Esme added.

"It's not my decision," Edward shook his head, "I left. I acted selfishly. I don't deserve a part in the decision."

"You're a part of this family," Carlisle told him, "That never changed. You can decide with us."

"Rochester is fine," Edward told them, shaking his head in disbelief.

He looked at the two people who cared about him more than anyone in the world. They didn't care about where he had just come from. They didn't care if he made bad decisions, or if he disrupted their lives. All they cared about was his feelings and well-being. It was as if he had never left to begin with.

"You left a note for me every day?" Edward asked Esme.

She nodded with a smile, "I thought you'd never return."

Edward smiled and continued to feel the guilt plaguing him.

"Come inside," Carlisle told him with a smile, "We hadn't had so much as a glass of that wine you created since you left, but we just poured a few glasses. Come have a glass and the three of us can talk."

Edward stared at his father and nodded, "Are you sure?"

He grinned, "I'm positive."

The three of them walked inside and Esme eagerly poured Edward another glass.

"Our family is back together," she said excitedly, "This is the best New Year's we've ever had." She put her hand on Carlisle's arm and flicked on the kitchen light.

He looked at her and smiled, then to Edward, "To all of us," he said, raising his glass.

"To family," Edward said. He looked into the glass before accepting the glass tapping gesture from each of them. Edward knew he was where he was meant to be. He knew he was home.