Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
…
A/N: Welcome to Christmas on Isabella Island. Many thanks to Rohan65 who was kind enough to give me some great ideas for the Polynesian Christmas celebration, including some gifts the family could make from items available on the island. Thanks also to Bab1067 for her medical expertise regarding Bella's recovery and physiotherapy.
…
Chapter 36 – Deck the Halls …
I must have nodded off. When I woke up, the room was bright with morning sun and Bella was gone from our bed. Checking my watch, I noted the time was nearly 8 am – 2 hours after sunrise.
They'd better not have started Christmas without me.
Flinging the covers back, I dove from the bed and rushed for the door, naked as the day I was born. If it wasn't for the mirror reflecting my image from the open bathroom door, I would have flown downstairs, showing my family more of me than they or I was comfortable with.
Swiveling around in a sharp about-face, I flung the lid up on the chest at the foot of the bed. Pulling out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt I dressed quickly and somewhat carelessly. When I arrived downstairs, my pants were twisted around my hips, my t-shirt was on inside out and backwards. The tag was to the front and the deep V neck exposed the patch of skin between my shoulders.
"In a hurry are you, Son?" asked Dad dryly. He was propped casually against the door frame into the dining room. He sipped languidly from a cup of tea in one hand and nibbled on the piece of toast he held in the other.
"Why didn't anyone wake me?" I squawked frustratedly. Peering into the lounge room, I breathed an inward sigh of relief. The large collection of wrapped gifts resided undisturbed beneath the decorated tree.
Dad smirked. "We all decided we'd rather enjoy a relaxing breakfast without the indigestion we normally have on Christmas morning. I would have woken you shortly."
I humphed. "Where is everybody?"
"Your mother, Bella and the girls are outside. They're tending to the leg of pork roasting in the fire pit. Your brothers are at the beach checking the lobster traps – they should be back shortly, and Larry is feeding the animals while he searches for his Vegemite." He paused for a few beats before chastising me. "Did you really have to bury it in the goat pen, Edward?"
I snickered, but wiped my expression clean in the face of Dad's dark frown of disapproval. "I promised him I'd give it back this morning," I replied sulkily.
"That's not the point. You know Larry is afraid of Jezebel. He idolizes you, Edward – you really should be kinder to him," Dad rebuked.
My face reddened with mild shame. Nodding, I promised to apologize to Larry.
"Good, you can start by retrieving his Vegemite jar – Jezebel looks ready to charge," Dad remarked. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the goat pen that we could see from the dining room window. Larry was bent over at the waist, digging in the ground while Jezebel stood in the corner of the pen, eying Larry's butt viciously. She pawed at the ground and tossed her horned head with clear intent.
"Bloody hell," I muttered. Hitching my sweats up, I bolted from the house and flew down the front steps, blowing a kiss to Bella as she looked up with a smile of greeting. "Just give me a minute," I huffed, passing her at a sprint. "Gotta rescue Larry from Jezebel."
She looked startled. "What?" Edward! What was that about Jezebel and Larry?" she called after me.
When the goat leapt into a gallop toward Larry, I skidded up to the fence, stopping sharply. "Larry, watch out!"
He jumped and looked up in surprise, still bent over. "What?"
I waved him frantically out of the goat pen. "Get out of there. Now! The fucking goat's charging you!"
His eyes widened as he caught sight of the wild-eyed animal from between his legs. Squawking in terror, he took off at a stumbling run around the sides of the pen, with Jezebel racing behind him.
"No, Jezebel! Stop, stop!" he yelled at her over his shoulder. "Be a good girl, Jezebel. Good goat. Don't hurt, Larry!" he yelped, as her horns brushed the seat of pants.
"Run! She's right behind you, Larry! Run for the fence – you'll need to jump it," I commanded, holding fast to the railing.
Mom ran up beside me, panting, while Bella hurried along behind her. Mom looked pale and she was perspiring, which I found odd, because it wasn't that hot this morning. I didn't have time to think more about it, because Larry sprinted at the fence that very moment. He used the railing as a spring-board, leaping over the barrier and collapsing to the ground, breathing heavily.
"You okay, Larry?" Mom asked, bending down to look him over.
He gulped and scrambled onto his knees, and then his feet, shaking visibly. "Yeah, Mrs Esme, I'm okay now … but that goat's a real bitch," he added sagely.
I snorted with laughter and even Mom and Bella giggled.
"Are you sure?" He nodded. "Okay. Go and get cleaned up, Larry," Mom said, "it's nearly time to open presents."
"But I need my Vegemite," he objected, glancing at me dolefully.
I shifted nervously as Mom eyed me suspiciously. "Hmmm," she sounded. "Edward will get it for you, since I'm fairly certain he knows where to look for it. Off you go."
He lumbered off and Bella followed, heading into the house with Rose and Alice. Dad stood on the verandah as she passed by him, and I watched him looking at Mom with an intense gaze of interest. Mom stood before me, tapping her foot with her arms crossed disapprovingly.
"I'll take care of the goat while you dig up the jar," she ordered in a no-nonsense tone.
"Yes, ma'am." Sighing, I turned and followed Mom into the pen. As I turned around from latching the gate, I saw Mom sway slightly. Alarmed, I rushed forward to steady her, and noticed she was paler than she was a few moments earlier. "Are you okay, Mom?" I asked worriedly.
"Oh, yes, Edward, I'm fine. I'm just a bit hot and tired." Gently shaking off my rescuing hand, she strode toward Jezebel, taking a firm hold of the rope head-halter. "Come on, you nasty girl," she hissed, dragging the goat over to the food trough.
Watching over my mother carefully, I picked up the spade Larry had abandoned and began digging into the sandy soil. Three shovels later, the cord I'd tied around the neck of a small gourd bottle was exposed. Grabbing it, I pulled the container protecting the jar of Vegemite from the ground, then refilled the hole.
Mom let go of the goat and I met her at the gate, closing it securely behind us. "Maybe you should rest for awhile?" I suggested as we walked slowly back to the house. She shook her head dismissively saying she had too much to do before dinner. Dad met us at the bottom of the stairs. I surrendered my mother into her husband's care and headed into the house to pacify Larry.
I met Bella in the entry foyer, as she walked slowly down the stairs after freshening up in the bathroom. When she halted on the bottom step, I strolled forward so we were standing at eye-level.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the gourd bottle.
My mouth twisted up. "Larry's Vegemite."
Her eyebrows rose. "Oh." She paused momentarily. "Are you gonna give it back to him?"
"In a minute."
Dropping the gourd onto a padded seat in the foyer, I gathered her closer to kiss her good morning. Her lips parted allowing me entrance to her mouth, our tongues touching in greeting. Stretching up slightly, her arms wrapped around my neck. Our kiss deepened. Her mouth tasted delicious – almost as delectable as her nether folds had last night, when we privately celebrated her birthday.
Pulling away reluctantly, I rested my my forehead against her own. "Merry Christmas, Bella."
She laughed softly. "Merry Christmas, Edward. So much for getting up at dawn to open presents," she reminded me.
I shrugged bashfully, handing her down the remaining step and escorting her into the lounge room. My arm curved protectively around her waist as I directed her carefully toward a sofa. Her physio therapy the past two weeks had gone remarkably well leaving her almost healed and healthy. Dad breathed a sigh of relief when there'd been no sign of infection or leaking from the wounded vein – both of which could have been life threatening. Her physio consisted of daily leg exercises to regain lost flexibility and strengthen weakened muscles. Following two weeks of rest, we'd started with assisted walking until her leg was strong enough to support her own weight. Weight bearing exercises had commenced about a week ago and she'd made great strides in her recovery.
Dad declared her fit to resume normal activities a couple of days ago – as long as she didn't over do it – but the physio would continue for a few more weeks. I wasn't complaining about the green light, and neither had Bella when we'd retired to our room after her birthday dinner. I had her lie on the bed so I could take her leg through its range-of-motion exercises, finishing with a gentle massage of her thigh muscles.
As my hands glided over her groin area, I realized she was becoming aroused. Now that her leg was no longer ultra painful, my touch was arousing rather than simply soothing. Being the opportunist that I was, I took advantage of her naked, sprawling position to crawl between her parted legs. I deliberately allowed my shaggy hair to brush against her inner thighs as I inhaled deeply of the delicate scent wafting into my nostrils.
She moaned and pulled her healthy leg further out to the side, making more room for me to reach my goal. I rewarded her by stroking her gently. Her attention jerked toward the closed door. Beyond it, the sounds of our family retiring for the night reached us.
"Wh-what are you doing, Edward?" she whispered, so they wouldn't hear her.
"Making love to you," I whispered back, nuzzling between her legs. She moaned again and clapped her open hand against her mouth.
"But everyone's still awake," she protested.
I smirked up at her. "Then you'll have to keep quiet, won't you?" Sliding my hands under her butt, I lifted her hips toward my mouth. Her eyes widened as my intent become clear. She barely grabbed my pillow to smother her sounds, when I threw her recovering leg over my shoulder.
"Ooohhh," she moaned into the pillow, as my lips kissed along her soft mound. Using my tongue to part her folds, the only sounds from that point forward were ones of delight as I brought her to the brink, twice, before letting her orgasm.
My pleasant reverie was interrupted as Dad escorted my annoyed mother into the room. He led her to a bamboo armchair, seating her solicitously. Sitting in the seat beside her, he gathered her hand in his protectively, and switched the television on, settling on a news program. We were still waiting for Jasper and Emmett to return from the beach. My eyes checked the time repeatedly, the stack of gifts around the tree teasing me relentlessly.
Rose and Alice had used a denuded fruit branch from a palm tree, standing it upright in a small bucket of sand. It was decorated with ornaments made from sticks, woven grasses, shells and dried red berries strung into garlands. A red berry wreath hung over the fireplace and beeswax candles adorned with dried lime slices decorated the mantle.
I checked the time again, noting another ten minutes. "I'm going to look for my brothers," I told Bella impatiently.
Dad stayed me with a raised hand. "Just a moment, Edward. Listen to this," he said urgently. He turned up the volume with the remote. My eyes widened at the still image on the screen. I sat down, shocked, to listen to the news broadcast. Larry's head shot up from his hand-held video game as her name was spoken.
"The FBI office in Honolulu announced this morning, that Australian woman, Victoria Vincent, was taken into custody by the US Navy. Ms Vincent was arrested when the ship she was on was captured by the US navy just north of the Line Islands four days ago. Navy destroyer, the USS O'Kane had been pursuing high-tech ship, the MORTE for more than three weeks since it was sighted anchored in a small harbor on the island of Oahu. MORTE has been impounded by the authorities in Honolulu on suspicion it has been used in piracy throughout the Pacific region.
"The authorities advised that Ms Vincent normally travels with her partner, fellow Australian, James "Jimmy" Hunter. Mr Hunter was not on board MORTE and has not been seen for several months. He was last sighted by local authorities in Western Samoa. Authorities suspect that Ms Vincent and Mr Hunter are not the owners of the vessel, though Mr Hunter has previously claimed naming rights.
"When questioned, Ms Vincent told authorities that she did not know where her partner was. She refused to answer any further questions. Also suspected of traveling with Mr Hunter is Ms Vincent's cousin, Laurence "Larry" Vincent – a 24 year old Australian man with a mild mental disability. He was taken from an institution in Melbourne, Australia more than a year ago.
"Mr Hunter is considered by the FBI, to be extremely dangerous. Citizens are strongly advised not to approach him, but should contact the FBI in Honolulu if sighted. Mr Larry Vincent is not considered dangerous, but should be approached with caution."
Dad used the remote to click off the television. We sat in stunned silence, digesting the good and bad news we'd just received.
Alice swallowed, then whispered sadly, "They were so close to us – the navy. That's where we are isn't it – the Line Islands?"
I nodded stiffly.
"At least she's been captured," added Mom with satisfaction. Her color had returned since she'd been resting. "I freely admit I was worried she'd return. The longer she stayed away, the more hopeful I was she'd been caught, but ..."
I finished Mom's thought. "But it was always in the back of your mind that she might turn up one day and seek vengeance – when she found out about Jimmy?" I completed.
Rosalie and Bella shuddered in remembered fear. I rubbed Bella's knee reassuringly while watching Rose on the opposite sofa. She stroked her burgeoning stomach protectively, staring out the window as she searched for her husband. I saw Emmett and Jasper walking into camp, lugging a large tub of sea water full of lobster. Rosalie rolled hurriedly to her feet and walked away to meet them, gesturing at Alice to follow her.
Mom responded to my previous statement, unaware that her two eldest sons had returned. "Yes. I'm glad she won't be a problem anymore, even if it means we missed being rescued. Our lives are more important than getting into a war with a sociopathic woman bent on avenging her partner."
"I agree," seconded Dad.
Larry had remained silent during the newscast and our subsequent chatter.
"Are you okay, Larry?" asked Dad gently.
He looked at Dad with a sad expression. He was truly alone here with us now. His cousin would not be coming back for him any time soon. "Does custard-y mean 'rested, Dr Pops?"
"Yes, custody means arrested," he confirmed, whilst correctly pronouncing the difficult words for Larry.
"Oh," he replied, scratching his scalp. "Um, you gunna kill me now?" he added worriedly.
Mom gasped. "What? Why would you think that, Larry?" she asked, getting up from her armchair to sit on the sofa beside him. Mom had grown quite fond of Larry over the past month. Her initial concerns about him were allayed by his somewhat childlike manner.
"Cuz, Jimmy's dead and Vivi ain't comin' back for me."
"Yes, I know that, but why do you think that means we're going to kill you?" Dad asked, leaning forward in his own seat to study Larry carefully.
"Well, what else you gunna do wif me? You 'sponsible for me now."
I chuckled ironically. "Larry, we've been responsible for you this past month now. Why would that arrangement change?"
He shrugged. "Dunno, but you might not want me no more."
"Of course we want you, Larry," piped up Bella kindly. "You're part of our family now. Who else will make me another swagman hat if you're not here with us?"
"Miss Alice," he answered matter-of-factly.
Mom patted his knee reassuringly. "Hear me clearly, Larry, there will be no more talk of killing – not yours or any one else's. You're staying and that's that. Now, I do believe it's time to open Christmas presents – I hear the boys outside."
…
While Jazz and Emmett cleaned up from their fishing expedition, I filled them in on the content of the newscast. They'd heard the basic facts from their wives, but I expanded on the intel that MORTE was very likely owned by somebody else. We speculated over who it could be, and whether they'd come looking for the gold. It didn't bode well that some one who could finance a ship like MORTE probably had more money than some small countries.
Emmett postulated that anyone with that much money at their disposal, in all likelihood, wouldn't flinch at spending more of it to make ten times as much. We estimated that the gold we'd already found was worth millions. If there was more of it to be found, we were literally sitting on an untapped gold-mine to the tune of tens of millions of dollars.
"Let's go downstairs," suggested Jasper. "We can talk about this more tomorrow at the family meeting. We've all got updates to share, but I for one want to enjoy Christmas day without worrying over something we can't change."
By the time the entire family assembled in the lounge to open gifts it was going on for 11 o'clock. My stomach rumbled hungrily, but I forcefully ignored it. I would brook no more delays on receiving my Christmas presents!
Mom came into the room with a pitcher of limeade. She was followed by Dad with a tray of glasses and a plate of shortbread cookies, placing it down on the large ottoman. I quickly swiped two of them in an effort to keep the gnarling hunger pangs away, and accepted a glass from Mom after she'd served Bella. She was turning around to get the next glass when she lost her balance. Dad gasped and dropped his cookie, charging forward to catch his wife protectively.
"Esme! Are you okay?" Dad asked sharply.
He eased her into the armchair she'd occupied earlier, as the rest of us looked on worriedly. This was the second time today that Mom had suffered from a dizzy spell. It was uncustomary and quite frankly, worrying.
Dad took Mom's pulse and felt her face and neck with the back of his hand. His mouth tightened when he registered the results of the simple tests. "I want to examine you, Esme," Dad stated firmly.
She shook her head emphatically. "No. I feel fine now." Dad opened his mouth to object, only to be cut off before he could utter a syllable. "After we open gifts, Carlisle. Dinner isn't until later this afternoon – most of it's already prepared and Bella has the rest of it under control. I'll submit to an exam after we exchange gifts, not before."
I could see Dad wanted to argue, but he refrained lest he upset her further by insisting. Dad handed Mom a glass of water from a carafe on the side table. As she took it, he bent down to whisper something close to her ear. She nodded reluctantly, an expression of irritation on her face as she sipped from the glass. Alice and Jasper stood up to serve the remaining drinks, glancing frequently at Mom with anxious faces. In actuality, we all stared at her with varying aspects of inquiry and worry.
"Stop staring at me!" Mom snapped, when the tension in the room became too much for her. "I'm fine. Get on with your gift deliveries, Carlisle!"
Sighing heavily, Dad nodded tersely and went to stand by the Christmas tree. His mouth pulled into a grim line of annoyance, but it eased a little when Mom smiled at him in gratitude. Whatever was wrong with her, she didn't want it to impact Christmas. Dad conceded and was soon immersed in his annual Santa duties.
The next hour and half was a riot. There were genuine smiles of delight, endless oohs and ahhs of appreciation, and even some emotional tears of gratitude as we unwrapped our gifts. It was astounding really, what we were able to make with our own hands from items found on the island.
We all received an assortment of jewelry made from carved Koa wood or shells. The work was intricate and oftentimes, far superior to anything similar we might have purchased in the stores back in Honolulu.
Mom and Dad gifted me the same artist set they'd given Bella the night before for her birthday. Bella and Mom each received a bamboo easel from Dad, and Dad gave Mom a stack of her own paper for reviving her own painting hobby. Bella gave me a similar easel, after conspiring with Dad so the gifts complimented each other.
Larry used his newly acquired, and surprisingly talented skills at weaving. He gave Rose and Alice a woven beach bag of dried palm fronds, and Mom and Bella a woven hand fan decorated with shells on the handle. Mom grabbed hers up immediately, waving the still air in the room at her heated face rapidly. Dad noticed, since he'd barely shifted his eyes off his wife, jerking his thumb imperiously at the ceiling fan. I jumped up to switch it on, berating myself for not thinking of it earlier.
Emmett presented Rosalie with the beautiful jewelry box he'd begun when I was making Bella's engagement ring. The lid was delicately carved with plumeria flowers. It fit snugly over a lip he'd carved along the top of the box, sealing the contents securely. Rosalie cried when she received it, cuddling Emmett affectionately from their place on one of the sofas.
Both Larry and Emmett received a gourd drum and stick from me and Bella.
"Hey, this is effing fantastic!" Emmett crowed with delight.
Larry dittoed his agreement. The two giant kids exchanged glances of mischief. Picking up their own drum stick with its bulbous knob, they thumped the tightly stretched iguana leather tapping out a simple tune of primal tones – boom, b-boom, boom.
Good God, what have we done?
Larry also received a bamboo pan flute from Jasper and Alice. He held it close to his mouth, blowing a discordant melody while thumping on his drum. Emmett joined in, entertaining us until Mom yelled "Enough!" after nearly 10 minutes of headache inducing racket. Larry was equally thrilled with his new bamboo fishing pole, and the game of coits (a pole and ring set) he received from Esme and Carlisle. Dad said it would help him with his eye-hand coordination.
Bella was thrilled with the wide Koa wood bangle I gave her. It was similar in color and shape to the band of her engagement ring. I slipped it over her small hand and it settled on her right wrist. It fit loosely, but not so much that it would fall off while working or playing. Bella made Alice, Rose and Mom a new selection of soaps containing goats milk and cucumber extract. We teamed the bars with natural sea sponges found on the beach following the week-long stormy weather. I washed and treated them, so they were safe to use as a loofah.
Mom gave Dad a miniature Japanese sand garden for the desk in his office. Jasper assisted by making the tray for the bed of sand, and crafting a tiny rake, a hoe and a thimble sized bucket. There were shiny river stones, tiny stick trees (which were really dead branches) and a kit of slender bamboo matchsticks for constructing a dwelling. Dad was stunned silly, and unable to articulate his sheer joy for at least five full minutes.
"Esme, this is … this is wonderful. There's something so … restful about it," he murmured, making furrows in the sand with the delicate rake.
Mom grinned widely with happiness. "I thought you might enjoy it. A lot of people have them. They help you to relax and focus attention on something other than your problems. Many executives say they can often find solutions to seemingly insurmountable issues after a little raking and tilling."
Continuing the oriental theme, Jasper and Alice gave him a bonsai tree in a small clay pot they'd fired in the kitchen oven. Making use of his agricultural expertise, Jasper found a young fig tree. He immediately thought of Dad and set about digging it up to begin the process of pruning. It would require more clipping as time went by to maintain the stunted size and shape of a true Bonsai, but Jasper promised to teach Dad all he needed to know. He was thrilled and couldn't stop gazing at his two Japanese gardens.
Bella and I gave Mom and Dad two bamboo table lamps for their bedroom. Each lamp housed a small beeswax candle in a glass jar as a light source. Emmett received a tooled leather belt from Jasper and Alice, a fresh pot of honey and a stirrer from me and Bella, and a large flat river stone for honing his whittling knife from Larry. Dad, Jasper and I were recipients of a pair of palm frond slippers from Larry adorned with shell tassels. They were surprisingly cool and comfortable.
Jasper got a new fly fishing net from Emmett and Rosalie, while Jasper gave his unashamedly vain spouse her own mirror – decorated with shells, starfish and bleached wood around the border. She squealed with excitement and kissed her husband, before holding the mirror up to admire her reflection. We all laughed and poked fun at her, while Bella and Rosalie moved to sit beside her and admire there own complexions.
The number of gifts exchanged was endless. They were simply too numerous to name, or do them all justice with my humble descriptions.
…
At 12.30, Dad escorted Mom into his office, and Bella went outside to check the leg of pork roasting in the fire pit. I went with her to keep her company. We only had two piglets left now – the lone male and one female. We were hoping the female would come into heat in the spring so we'd have a litter of new piglets for meat and breeding over the coming year. The small stone and mud cool house we constructed was full of pork to be smoked into bacon, frozen or turned into ham or other products.
The rooster Emmett and Rosalie captured at Thanksgiving was proving his virility by romancing the hens into laying double their normal quota. Mom and Bella cracked and separated most of them, freezing the whites and yolks for cooking. In the new year, the rooster and hens would be left alone to concentrate on breeding. With any luck, we'd have enough poultry for meat as well as eggs. I was looking forward to a crispy roasted chicken.
Our little farm was looking rather successful given the lack of modern techniques or technology. The garden was thriving, producing almost more food than we could eat or preserve. The goats would breed – maybe not this spring, but definitely the next one – supplying meat, dairy and even their wool for spinning. Alice was already making plans for Jasper to build her a weaving loom and a spinning wheel. She quite rightly pointed out that our clothes and textiles would wear out eventually.
"What do you think is wrong with Esme?" Bella asked me suddenly, interrupting my mental tally of our current situation.
I ruminated for a long moment. "I don't know," I eventually replied slowly. "If we were in a populated area, the flu would be be a possible suspect. But out here where there are no germs being passed around ..." I trailed off.
"Yeah, I know. That's what I thought as well. We're so secluded here that airborne germs would have to travel a long distance to infect us with anything. I suppose it's possible though."
"Yeah," I said noncommittally. "Dad would know for sure."
I don't want to think of my mother becoming ill with some unknown infection or virus – Dad's drugs were running low due to all of our injuries. Soon, he'd have to find alternatives. Mom was too important to all of us to get sick. She was the glue that held us all together. She was necessary to our existence. Our father would wither away without her. I don't want to think about it.
"Let's make some lunch, and then we can set up the tables for the luau," Bella suggested. I was grateful for her timely distraction.
…
Dad came into the dining room around 2 o'clock after escorting Mom upstairs to rest. The remainder of the family were sitting around the table playing a quiet game of navy monopoly or enjoying their Christmas presents.
Emmett rolled a double two with the dice asking, "Is Mom okay," before Dad could even sit down. He moved his helicopter token four places landing himself in jail. Rolling his eyes, he tossed the dice to Jasper.
Dad sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yes, I believe so. She's seesawing between being hot and cold. She has a mild headache and she feels a little nauseated and tired, but I don't think it's anything serious. She's resting now. I told her not to come back downstairs until it was time for dinner."
"I bet she loved that?" Emmett opined sarcastically.
Dad snorted. "Bella, would you mind making Esme some tea and toast, please – it might help settle her stomach."
Bella stood up. "Sure, Carlisle. Do you want something as well – you haven't eaten lunch and dinner isn't until six." Dad's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, eliciting a grin from Bella. "I'll take that insistent growl as a yes, shall I?"
Dad blushed. "Thank you, sweetheart."
"No problem. Does anyone else want something to eat?"
"I do," called Emmett and Larry simultaneously. Bella rolled her eyes at their predictable answer to any offer of food.
"Well I know that. I meant any one else," she teased.
Alice and Rose threw each other significant looks, before standing. "We'll help you," they chorused.
The three women left the room for the kitchen, closing the door behind them, so they could talk in private. I assumed – correctly I found out later from Bella – that they were discussing what they thought could be wrong with Esme. When I asked what they'd decided, Bella blushed as red as a tomato and vaguely replied that it was something 'female', whatever the hell that meant at Mom's age.
Alice came back through the dining room 10 minutes later with a small pot of tea and some toast with jam for Esme, taking it upstairs. She was careful to close the kitchen door, secluding Rose and Bella's conversation from prying male hearing. When Alice came back, she disappeared behind the closed door once again and we didn't see them for another 20 minutes. They emerged, finally, with a large pot of tea, sliced fruit cake and a plate of shortbread cookies, each behaving as though it hadn't taken them 30 minutes to boil the kettle.
Around mid afternoon, Jasper left the table to shove the lobsters he'd caught into the freezer. When their bodily functions slowed to the point of unconsciousness, they'd be killed humanely before cooking. Bella departed for the kitchen to work on final preparations for the luau dinner, whilst Rose and Alice went outside with Emmett and Larry to decorate the picnic area. That left me and Dad, sitting in silence, contemplating the women in our lives that were a constant source of joy and worry.
Mom appeared downstairs just before dinner, marching directly to the stereo to select a CD of music. Dad followed her movements with sharp eyes and tense shoulders. He relaxed visibly when it appeared she'd recovered.
"Edward?"
"Yes, Mom?"
"Can you move the stereo to that table by the window and turn it around so the speakers are facing outward. I think some party music is appropriate for our luau dinner, don't you agree?" She voiced it as a statement, rather than a question.
"Sure, Mom," I agreed without argument. I went to do her bidding.
She nodded her head in satisfaction and marched toward the kitchen. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dad follow her.
"Don't fuss, please, Carlisle," I heard her say to Dad sharply barely a few seconds later. He responded so quietly I couldn't hear him, but she responded softly with, "I promise, Carlisle, I won't over do it, but I feel fine now."
I finished what I was doing and left the house to join the others, giving my parents some privacy. I sighed in frustration. The more I saw and heard, the more worried I became. I had enough ulcers worrying over Bella. As much as I loved my mother, I could really do without the added pressure. The navy was a piece of cake compared to loving a woman.
My problem is, I'm a mama's boy – through and through. I'm not ashamed to admit it to myself either. I'm the youngest of three boys and I was spoiled rotten, receiving constant, loving attention from my mother. One of my fondest childhood memories is the time I conspired with my mother to blow off kindergarten in favor of swimming at the beach two bays over from our house on Oahu. We'd swum, basked in the sun, and made sandcastles for hours, returning home with sunburn and a mild case of heat sickness. It was one of the best days of my life, which is saying a lot, since at the time, I was only six years old.
"Hey, this looks fantastic," I complimented upon reaching the picnic area at the site of our old dining area.
The tiki torches were lit, flickering strongly in the waning daylight. A serving table was dressed with woven mats and a floor-length grass skirt hiding the trestles. Two candles set into bamboo pots sat at each end to highlight the food when it was ready.
"Way to go, Edward. Turn up when the work's all done," ribbed Jasper.
I flushed guiltily. "Sorry. I promise to clean up."
Jasper frowned at me. "I was just joking, Edward."
"Oh, okay then," I replied distractedly. "Do you need help with the lobsters?"
He gave me an odd look. "No, they're all ready for cooking. You could go get them, though. They're in the kitchen. Bella's still inside putting the final touches on dinner."
"No she isn't. Mom and Dad were just in there talking. I'm pretty certain Bella wasn't a witness."
Jasper narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'witness'?"
I shrugged. "Mom and Dad were kind of having words." Jasper's eyes widened worriedly, forcing me to hurriedly clarify. "Not arguing exactly. I couldn't really hear Dad, but Mom asked him not to fuss."
"He's probably still worried about her. I wouldn't let it concern you, Edward," Jasper advised. "Dad will look after her. I'll get the lobster tails, while you look for Bella."
Before we could depart, Bella's voice called out across the clearing. "Emmett!"
"Speak of the devil," Jasper said.
We both turned in the direction of the Verandah were Bella was standing. She was dressed in a short red top teamed with a long grass skirt with a plumeria lei around her neck. A posy of hibiscus adorned the left side of her partially upswept hair. She looked magnificent! Like a Hawaiian princess.
"Yeah?" Emmett answered.
"Can you take the pork and the iguana-chicken out of the fire pit? We'll be ready to eat as soon as the lobsters are done."
"Will do," he responded.
Almost without conscious thought, I walked slowly toward the Polynesian vision decorating our front verandah. Stopping before her, I bowed from the waist and held my hand out to her. "Your Highness, you are truly beautiful this evening," I complimented reverently.
She took my hand and stepped down until she was standing barefoot before me. "Thank you, Edward." She blushed prettily.
We stared into each others eyes as the world around us retreated. I hardly even noticed when Jasper passed by with the plate of tails to throw onto the BBQ. I wanted to devour her. Moving closer, I leaned down and inhaled her scent – a mixture that was uniquely Bella mixed with the fragrance of frangipani.
"Delicious," I uttered.
Bella coughed self-consciously since we were in the presence of others. "Um, you'd better get changed for dinner. I laid out a pair of shorts and a shirt for you to wear."
I blinked, looking down at my current attire of … shorts and a t-shirt. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
She shrugged apologetically. "It, um, doesn't really say, 'luau'."
I quirked a brow. "There are clothes that say, 'I'm going to a luau'?"
She nodded. "Yes. Now, go get changed. We'll be eating in a few minutes."
Rolling my eyes as I tried and failed to understand the reasoning of women, I did as I was told and headed upstairs to change. On the bed was a pair of chino shorts and one of Emmett's Aloha floral shirts in lurid colors of orange and yellow on a blue background. I gagged. After reluctantly dressing in the vile shirt, I went downstairs to attend our luau.
Bella met us at the foot of the stairs to the verandah. Over her left arm, hung a swathe of flowers. Stepping forward, she beckoned for me to bend down so she could place a plumeria lei over my head. As it settled round my neck, she kissed my mouth, and whispered, "Aloha." She repeated the beautiful greeting for every member of the family, kissing their cheeks instead.
Sitting at the picnic table, which was decorated with woven mats, decorated candles and scattered flowers, we were a sight to behold in our identical outfits. All of the men were dressed similarly in shorts and Hawaiian shirts – each of them belonging to Emmett. All of the women wore sleeveless brightly colored tops and grass skirts with flowers decorating their hair.
A compilation of bygone party music sounded from the stereo. My leg jiggled to the beat as I sipped from a mango daiquiri that melted on my tongue leaving behind the flavor of vodka and white rum. Rose sipped from a virgin cocktail as did Mom who was taking it easy. Larry took a sip of his drink, making a face of dislike at the sharp taste of alcohol.
"Um, Miss Bella, this tastes funny. Can I have a different one?" he asked timidly.
Bella looked up with a smile of understanding. "Sure, Larry. Would you like a plain mango drink like Esme and Rosalie?"
He pushed his discarded drink across the table. "Yes, please."
Bella poured him a fresh virgin cocktail and handed it to Larry. He tasted it cautiously, looking up with a smile of gratitude when it was more to his liking. "Thank you, Miss Bella. I don't mean to make no trouble. I like ev'ything else you make me to eat," he explained.
"It's not a problem, Larry, and at a luau, you say, Mahalo. It's Hawaiian for thank you."
Larry grinned. He loved the attention that Mom and Bella paid to him. "Mahalo, Miss Bella. That's a pretty langwidge that is – Hahwhyan."
"Yes it is, Larry. I can teach you some other words. Would you like that?"
His eyes brightened. "Yes, please. Mahalo!"
Bella laughed lightly. "Very good, Larry. You learn quickly."
She sat down beside me and I kissed her for her kindness. I could learn a great deal from how Bella interacted with people. I wished I had a working camera so I could take a photograph of us. The luau was the type of memory that was always remembered with fondness when the family albums were pulled out at special birthdays and events. I tried to commit every detail to memory, so I could paint it instead. Dad said grace following cocktails, and we all stood up to serve ourselves from the smorgasbord of food.
There was kalua pork and Hawaiian BBQ iguana-chicken, lobster tails, roasted potato salad, and a mixed salad of tomatoes, cucumbers and onions courtesy of the vegetables grown in our garden. Mom had made condiments of chunky apple sauce, and a kind of spicy BBQ sauce from tomatoes, fruit and some of the wild turmeric root that abounded on the island. A basket of freshly baked bread rolls soaked up the juices. It was the second best meal I'd eaten on the island. I would have counted our engagement dinner, except I hardly remember tasting it. Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner both won hands down.
Following dinner, but before dessert, Bella said she had a surprise for us. She lined us up in two rows with the guys standing behind the women, while Bella stood out in front of us, directing.
"Who wants to learn to hula?" she asked mischievously.
"Me! Me!" yelled Larry ecstatically.
There was good natured chuckling from the rest of us.
"Alright everyone, listen up. I'm gonna teach you some basic steps and movements first. Once you've got the hang of it, I'll play some hula music and we can run through the dance. Are you ready?"
"Yes!" we all chorused, laughing.
"Alright. This first step is called the Kahalo – it's the most basic hula step." Bella demonstrated the dance step, going through the motions slowly as she instructed. "Stand with your feet slightly apart, with your knees bent. Hold your arms up and bent out at the elbow." Bella walked along, correcting posture where needed.
"Okay, good. Now, extend your right arm out to the side, keeping your left arm bent. Move two steps to the right, swaying your hips from side to side, while gently waving your arms in the direction you're moving. Repeat the arm and foot steps in reverse."
We all performed the steps, getting the hang of it fairly quickly.
Bella laughed and clapped her hands in delight. "Hey, you guys, that's great. You're all naturals. Okay, the next steps are the Ami and Uwehe. To dance the Ami, place your hands on your hips. Turn around for 8 counts, swaying your hips as you turn," she said, demonstrating. "Ready? Okay, go. Turn, sway, turn sway," she chanted, as we laughingly learned the step.
Emmett broke formation and ran up behind Rosalie, holding her hips and moving with her suggestively as she moved. I rolled my eyes, but chuckled at my predictably juvenile brother. Mom reached out and smacked his arm, ordering him back to his place in the dance line. Bella didn't mind and just laughed at his boyish behavior.
"Okay, that's great. You all got that one easily, Emmett especially," she remarked drolly. Jasper and I snorted.
"This next step is called the Uwehe and it's a bit more difficult."
Bella demonstrated the step, which was a combination of stomping one foot and then popping both heels up and down, and then repeating with the other foot. This step took a bit more skill and we practiced for 5 minutes – Bella giving Larry some one-on-one attention – before she was satisfied we had all mastered the maneuver.
"Alright, everyone, now we're gonna dance the three steps in order. We start with the Kahalo, then the Ami and finish with the Uwehe, then repeat. Are you ready?"
"Yes," I called out, laughing with delight.
Bella ran lightly onto the verandah – still not quite as graceful as she was before being shot – to pick up the stereo remote. She cycled through the selections until she found the track she wanted and hit play. She ran back, her grass skirts swirling and stood in front of us, this time with her back to us so we could copy her motions if we lost our way.
"The song is called Pearly Shells – Sway a Hula," she called out over the opening chords.
I copied her stance and then her movements as she began to move. She started with a stationary position she hadn't taught us that only required us to hold our arms up in the air and wave them from side to side. I had an absolute ball – we all did, but Sweet Jesus, I was as hard as rock in under a minute watching Bella's arms and hips move fluidly through the movements to the music. Watching Bella dance the hula was so sexy. I wondered if she'd dance for me privately later? I licked my lips at the possibilities.
"Again! Again, Miss Bella!" Larry demanded when the song ended. He was grinning from ear to ear with a sense of joie de vivre brought about by a luau Christmas and hula happiness.
After dancing the hula three more times at Larry's insistence, we sat down to partake of dessert. Mom made an old southern favorite of banana pudding – a mixture of sponge cake, custard and banana somewhat reminiscent of an Olde English trifle – and Bella contributed a tropical fruit salad in a bowl carved from a watermelon.
When we retired for the night, everyone agreed that this had been the best Christmas we'd enjoyed for many years, excepting Mom's unexplained dizzy spells. As I snuggled up behind Bella in bed, luxuriating in post-coital bliss, I replayed Bella's dancing of the hula. I was rather proud of myself for convincing her to dance the hula for me privately as I hummed the music. She got through it twice, before I tackled her down onto the bed to have my way with her.
Until she turned the tables on me, that is.
Pushing me onto my back, Bella impaled herself on my dick, and hula-danced me to an explosive orgasm with swaying hips and gently waving arms, naked excepting the plumeria lei caressing her gorgeous pink-tipped breasts.
I was in heaven as I slipped into a deep, satisfied sleep.
…
The next morning, Bella and I walked into the dining room, hands held and brimming with bonhomie. "Good morning," I almost sang. I seated Bella at the table in her usual seat and went to the sideboard for two plates of breakfast. I was surprised at the selection of hot courses. I thought we'd be eating toast and leftover fruit salad, since Mom hadn't been feeling well yesterday. Quirking a brow of inquiry at Dad, he answered my unspoken question.
"She says she's fine. She's been up since 7 o'clock, raring to go," he grumbled.
"Hmm," I intoned, doubtfully.
"She seems perfectly fine," Dad added. "No more dizzy spells or nausea and her energy is restored. I'm fairly certain it was just some type of 24 hour bug."
Jasper interjected. "What, out here?"
Dad nodded. "Yes. Airborne viruses aren't totally unfeasible; or it's possible she ate something that disagreed with her."
I pondered for a moment, exchanging a glance with Jasper. He shrugged.
"Okay, if you're sure?" I said.
Dad nodded tersely. He wasn't sure at all, but the discussion was over … for now.
I sighed inwardly. "Are we still having family meeting this morning?"
Jasper answered. "Yes. None of us of have had a chance to report on what we've found, or talk about any new theories."
"What about …?" Emmett jerked his head toward Larry who was quietly consuming an enormous breakfast, as usual.
Dad looked at me and Jasper for guidance. We exchanged glances and gestures of indecision. I decided we should avoid the topic of the gold. Holding up my hand, I made a circle by touching my index finger to my thumb to indicate the coins, and shook my head negatively. They acknowledged my instruction and we all turned our attention to eating.
…
Dad tossed his notebook onto the table and sat down, sipping from the fresh cup of tea in front of him.
"Okay. This family meeting is called to order. It's the 26th of December, 2012. Larry, we're going to talk about what's been happening on the island. You can stay for it if you'd like, or you can do something else. It's up to you."
He debated internally for a few moments, before nodding once. "I'd like to stay, Dr Pops. Mahalo."
Bella dropped her head, smirking. Larry was making sure that Bella didn't forget about her promise to teach him the Hawaiian language.
"Fine. I'll start with the skull you found in the north of the island. I've studied it closely, reconstructing the skull much like I would a jigsaw. There are some fragments missing, not unsurprisingly, but I'm almost certain the damage was caused by a heavy weapon used with blunt force. It appears that one strike was enough to shatter the skull. Death was likely instantaneous."
"Could you make an educated guess at the murder weapon?" asked Jasper.
"I'd say it was some type of club. I compared the injury site to a drawing of the Hawaiian weapons Bella sketched for us. I can't be positive without the weapon, but I think it's a plausible theory."
"The next question is why?" I pointed out. "We haven't found anything that points to pre-emptive hostility against the pirates on the part of the Polynesians. The buildings were intact and their possessions were untouched."
"That suggests the people who lived here weren't at war with the pirates. There must have been another reason for their actions," Bella stated.
"Like what?" Emmett asked.
"Could it have been a skirmish over territory?" Alice posed. "Throughout history, people of different cultures have lived in a kind of tense harmony over the same land, until something turns the tide of tolerance."
"Wow, Allycat, I never knew you were so insightful. Who'd have thunk?" Rosalie teased.
Alice poked her tongue out at Rose in retaliation. "I went to college you know. Just because I majored in fashion, doesn't mean I didn't learn anything academically useful," she defended herself.
"Just kidding, Alice," Rose said, holding her hands up contritely.
Dad interjected before their squabble escalated. "Territorial arguments are a possibility, yes, but something tells me that wasn't the reason."
"Perhaps it was the pirates violation of the tiki's," Bella suggested. "If the islanders found out what the pirates used the idols for, it would have angered them. None of them were made here – the two closest to us weren't anyway. I don't recognize the timber as one traditionally used for carvings." She turned to face me. "Did you recognize the timber of the third tiki, Edward?"
"No, but plants aren't really my area of expertise. Jasper might know what it is." We all looked at Jasper expectantly.
"I think it was some type of pine. I agree with Bella – I haven't seen any pine trees on this island, though they are more common in the south pacific islands. Even if pine was available, it's a soft wood – it wouldn't be any good for carving idols that would stand out in the elements. They'd rot over time."
"Like ours have," Bella said.
"Yes, they're quite brittle and succumbing to rot. I'm actually surprised they're still in such good condition," Jasper noted.
"All of these are excellent theories," Dad agreed, "but if the locals were angry with the pirates over some perceived wrong against them, I think you'd have seen more destruction of the pirate's village."
"They prob'ly sick like in pirate movies," Larry offered.
I cocked my head to stare at Larry. Sometimes he was incredibly perceptive. Maybe it was because he hadn't learned to disregard the impractical or unusual.
"That's actually a very real possibility," Dad agreed excitedly. "Good thinking, Larry!" he praised. Larry beamed. "If the pirates brought disease to the island, they may have infected the Polynesians. It might also explain why they left. If they thought the island wasn't safe anymore, it's feasible they wouldn't have stayed here. Bella?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that's very possible. The Polynesian fishing village is also mostly intact. They may have taken their possessions and paddled away in canoes – after killing the pirates first."
"Wouldn't they have come back some time, though?" Rosalie posed to Bella.
"Maybe, but then again maybe not. If they thought the island was tabu, they would have stayed away from here."
"That doesn't explain why the island remains unsettled now, though," added Alice. "It's been 250 years. Surely the disease is long gone, if in fact it was disease the pirates brought with them?"
Dad shook his head. "Some disease will never be eradicated. It can survive on animals, especially rodents. The fleas that inhabit rodents can bite other animals and even humans, passing on the disease to others. Plague in particular is spread in this manner."
Eight horrified faces stared at my father.
"You're not kidding, are you, Carlisle?" gasped Mom. She looked like she might vomit.
I stood up to get her some water. "Here, sip this, Mom. I'm positive Dad didn't mean to imply that there was plague on Isabella Island, did you, Dad?"
Dad's eyes widened as he realized his error. "No! No, of course not. It was only an example, just not a helpful one." He sighed. "It may have been something we consider commonplace today, like measles, or chicken pox. Unfortunately, the Polynesians wouldn't have been exposed to them before and they would have lacked any immunity."
Alice giggled in nervous relief, holding her hand over her pounding heart. "Don't scare us like that, Carlisle!"
He coughed. "Sorry. I cannot be certain, however, I don't believe there is plague on this island. None of us have shown any signs of the disease and we've all been bitten by fleas and other insects."
"Let's move on, shall we?" I suggested. "I've studied the painting I brought back. I managed to clean off the soot and grime to expose the name of the ship. It was named MORTE – it's Portuguese meaning death, which is rather ironic given our recent conversation," I imparted. "Jimmy's ship is MORTE II."
"A clear connection, then," stated Emmett.
I nodded, swallowing a quick sip of water from the glass in front of me. "Yes. But, what confuses me is the news report that said MORTE II wasn't owned by Jimmy or Vivi, yet he apparently named the ship. Why is that?"
"Perhaps if he needed someone to bankroll his search, naming the ship was his condition for splitting the booty," Mom suggested.
Rose added her opinion. "Jimmy did say this was his island. Maybe he meant that what was here belonged to him, rather than the island itself."
"How did he know where here was, though?" pressed Emmett.
Bella chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Perhaps using historical information, technology and deductive logic. Most passenger or merchant ships were registered even 250 years ago. Pirate ships probably weren't but most of them were well known and would have been documented in historical records. If one of the pirates was an ancestor of Jimmy's, he might have had access to a personal journal."
"That seems plausible," Mom agreed. "I had a journal when I was younger. All of my daily activities, plans and dreams for the future were meticulously recorded."
Jasper addressed me. "Edward, didn't you find some personal journals in the captains chest along with the log book?"
"Yes."
"Then it's possible the captain – if indeed he was Jimmy's ancestor – might have left behind journals detailing his plans, before he set sail," posited Jasper.
"And they were obviously seen in the Pacific since they collected Polynesian tiki's made from pine timber," added Bella.
My head bobbed as I considered the possibilities. "The pirates may have made the idols themselves, since they'd been hollowed to hide the g..." Ouch! Jasper kicked me under the table.
Bella smirked at me knowingly. "That would explain a lot," she stated. "I've identified the two closest to us as Kamapua'a the hog-child – he was Pele's nemesis, and Kanaloa the god of death, darkness, water, and squid – rather appropriate for a group of pirates. They might have thought it was fortuitous."
"What about the one Jasper and I found?" I asked her.
"It's not one I recognize. It's almost as though they just made it up. They probably thought that most white people wouldn't know the difference if they came upon the idol."
I blew out a gust of breath. "Well, it makes as much sense as anything we've come up with."
Dad looked up from his scribbling. "What did you find in the small captains chest?"
"A miniature portrait of a woman – it may have been a likeness of his wife. There are three more journals, all written in Portuguese, but I can't decipher any of it. There's a small sack of gunpowder and flints for the flintlock guns we found, but it's useless. There's too much degradation of the components in the mixture."
Mom raised a brow of incredulity. "Do I want to know how you know that?" she demanded.
I coughed into my fist. "No," I muttered honestly. Bella glared at me furiously. She shot me a 'you're not out of trouble yet' expression. I coughed again and changed the subject. "So, that's about it. We know more than we did before, but not enough to know who might want it now, other than Jimmy."
"Maybe it's Jimmy's friend, Mr Vulture," Larry imparted.
For the second time this morning, Larry had said something incredibly useful. He really did know more than he realized. I turned to him eagerly, trying not to frighten him.
"Larry, do you know what Mr Vulture looks like?"
"Nah. I never met him. I just knowed Jimmy always was talkin' to him."
"Do you remember what Jimmy might have said?" I asked, tamping down my excitement with difficulty.
"I only heared one talk, Mr Red. Jimmy told me to mind my business when he caught me. He always closed the door on me after that first time."
Dad leaned forward resting his forearms on the table. "What do you remember, Larry?" he asked softly.
"I remember Jimmy askin' for more time. He told Mr Vulture he couldn't find somethin'."
"When was this, Larry?" Dad asked.
He screwed up his face while thinking. "Long time ago, Dr Pops. It was just after me mum's foonral. I remember cuz Vivi wanted to take me home, but Jimmy said no cuz he had his new orders."
"Is that how you ended up with Jimmy and Vivi?" Rose asked him.
"Yes, Miss Rose."
I stroked my bottom lip pensively, while I pondered MORTE II. She was built and outfitted like a military ship. Her weapons were certainly military and so was the dynamite we'd found. Only governments and defense contractors had access to military weaponry and technology. A private purchase was supposed to be impossible, not to mention fantastically expensive.
There was only one possible conclusion: Jimmy's benefactor, Mr Vulture was very, very wealthy, and extremely well connected.
…
Over the following few days, I tried to recall as much as I could about MORTE II. I also questioned Larry relentlessly over interminable games of coits and hours of fishing. I made a record of every single thing he told me, even if it seemed incongruous or stupid. With each new piece of information, I became more certain than ever that we were dealing with someone more dangerous than Jimmy or even Vivi. What I didn't understand, was why they attacked Victory, or why Jimmy played cat and mouse with Bella and Rosalie. It just didn't make any sense whatsoever.
…
The next day, I abandoned Larry in favor of Bella, who complained she was feeling neglected. Deciding that a trip to the grotto was in order, I asked Mom to help me with a picnic lunch for Bella. When I entered the kitchen, Mom was chowing down on toast like she was starving. Whatever was on it looked disgusting, but Mom evidently enjoyed it.
"What is that, Mom? It looks awful," I said, making a face of disgust.
"Larry's Vegemite and fig jam. It's quite tasty," she told me with authority. Whatever you say, Mom!
"Okaaay. Um, do we have any leftovers I can have for a picnic? We're going to the grotto."
Mom shoved a piece of toast into her mouth and grabbed another one, before strolling to the fridge. She pulled a bowl of shrimp salad, some pork and tomatoes from its depths. She measured half the shrimp salad into a container, wrapped the pork in banana leaves and threw the whole lot into a basket. Almost as an afterthought, she added half a loaf of bread and a mango.
"Here you are, dear," she mumbled, pushing the basket toward me casually. After consuming all of the toast, Mom started on the remaining portion of shrimp salad. "Have a good day," she offered, waving me away with a loaded fork.
Frowning, I left the kitchen in search of Bella, running into Dad in the foyer.
"What's wrong with Mom?"
Dad was plainly startled. "What do mean?"
"She's eating like a horse – three pieces of toast with a truly disgusting topping, and now she's polishing off leftover shrimp salad."
"She's probably just hungry. You going out?"
"Yeah, I'm taking Bella to the grotto. We should be back in a few hours."
"Okay, be careful. I'll see you later."
"Yep. Bye, Dad."
Bella was thrilled with our impromptu trip to the grotto. We didn't swim, but we did sit on the side of the pool, swishing our feet in the water. We basked in the sun, napped and made love in the shade of the fern garden. When her stomach rumbled hungrily, we partook of the food in the picnic basket. Bella chose the shrimp salad, consuming it so greedily, I didn't have the heart to ask her for any. I made do with leftover pork and tomato in a sandwich.
"Can I have some of that bread?"
I handed it to her, then watched as she tore off huge chunks to wipe out the bowl with obvious relish. What is it today about shrimp salad? When she finished, Bella carelessly discarded the bowl and licked her lips, burping indelicately. I almost flinched. A lack of manners is so unlike her. Bella was so very ladylike in public.
"Hmm, that was good. Aaaaahhh," she yawned suddenly. Her eyes drooped tiredly. "Oh, I'm so sleepy. Can we go back, Edward? I might have a nap before dinner."
She was already thinking about dinner? She'd just finished a huge lunch. She couldn't possibly still be hungry, could she?
I shrugged and stood up, gathering our rubbish. Leaning down, I offered her a hand to help her to her feet. "Come on, princess. Let's get you home and into bed," I said, chuckling.
…
Barely half a day later, in the early hours of New Years Eve morning, I was roused by Bella as she shot from the bed, and raced for the door with her hand clamped over her mouth.
"Bella! What's wrong? Are you sick?" I screamed at her.
She ignored me as she wrenched uselessly at the door in her haste to get out of the room. Throwing back the covers, I leaped from the bed and bounded after her just as she flung the door open and ran into the bathroom. The door slammed in my face and I heard the lock turn. Three seconds later the sound of violent retching sounded from the room.
It went on and on and on.
I swallowed sympathetically for what she was going through, as my mouth filled with saliva. Tapping on the door gently, I called out to her, my voice laced with concern.
"Bella?" No response.
"Bella, honey? Are you okay in there?
Violent retching, but still no verbal response.
I knocked louder. "Bella, I'm coming in!" I stated firmly.
"NO!" came Bella's and my mother's wan voices from the room.
My mother! What the fuck?
Abandoning the door, I changed tactics and strode toward my parents room, barging through the door without knocking. This was an emergency. There was no time for politeness! Striding over to my fathers side of the bed, I leaned down and shook his shoulder insistently to wake him.
"Dad … Dad! … DAD!"
He moaned and rolled over. "What! What is it, Edward?" he groaned sleepily. "It's the middle of the night."
"Mom and Bella are both throwing up in the bathroom. I think they're sick."
Dad's eyes shot open and he sat up, ramrod straight in the bed. Throwing back the covers, he paused and I turned around, so he could climb naked from the bed and into his bathrobe.
"How do you know they're both in there?" he asked me, as we hurriedly walked down the hallway to the bathroom.
"Well, there was a lot of retching noise and when I told Bella I was coming in, both she and Mom told me no."
Dad knocked on the door. "Esme, Bella? Can I come in?" Moans of distress sounded through the closed door. Dad pushed on the door lever without success.
"Bella locked it," I told him.
"Go get the key from my office desk," he ordered. I nodded and flew down the stairs, switching on the desk lamp so I could see in the dim room. Rummaging around in the drawer, I found the master key and flew back upstairs with it held aloft in my hand. Dad took it from me and inserted it without ceremony, pushing the door open. What confronted us was startling to say the least.
Bella was hunched limply over one of the basins where she'd obviously emptied her stomach, and Mom - she was was semi-collapsed on the floor in front of the commode where she'd apparently emptied hers.
Both of them were damp-faced with perspiration and weak from their body's violent expulsions.
"Oh, God," Mom moaned from the floor. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was pregnant," she announced pitifully.
Dad's eyebrows rose into his hairline and then he paled as his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
"Oh, shit," he mumbled.
I stared at my old man with disbelief. Huh?
…
A/N: Do you think Esme's right?
Btw, before I took the plot in this possible direction – and it's only a possible direction as it depends on reader response to the idea – I researched the possibilities of a late-in-life pregnancy for Esme. As long as a woman is still ovulating while transitioning to menopause, she will continue to menstruate, so pregnancy is still possible, if rare. The oldest western woman to fall pregnant naturally while transitioning to menopause was 53. She has a healthy boy who is now a rambunctious toddler. There are other reported cases of menopausal women as old as 60 falling pregnant. In the west, most women transition to menopause between the ages of 40 and 61 with an average age at cessation of the menstrual cycle, of 51. My own mother was about 53. In Wrecked, Esme is 57. So, my faithful readers, it's entirely up to you. Do you want to see Esme and Carlisle become parents again to a late-in-life baby? Drop me a review and let me know.
Lots and lots of Christmas photos are on my blog and the link is jkazziefanfiction dot wordpress dot com
Voting on the wedding ring poll has recorded 108 votes. If you haven't already voted on Edward and Bella's wedding rings, click on the post that says 'ring poll' on my blog and have your say. Voting closes on Sunday 2nd of December. The winning rings will be used in the story. At this stage, I estimate the wedding celebration will be two chapters away.
Joie de vivre is French, meaning 'joy of living' or to express a 'cheerful enjoyment of life; an exultation of spirit.
Hawaiian words: Aloha is pronounced ah-low-hah / Mahalo is pronounced ma-hah-low. Kalua (as in the pork) is pronounced kah-loo-ah
Hula dance: Kahalo is pronounced ka-hah-low / Ami is pronounced ah-me / Uwehe is pronounced oo-way-hay. On my blog are two youtube clips. The first one is a sound clip of Pearly Shells from the movie 'Donavan's Reef' made in 1963. The other is a video clip (including some dialogue) from the same movie and a hula dance is included, though not the want Bella taught the Cullen's.