1922

Carlisle

"Carlisle, how many more shops are you going to drag me into?" Edward asked – more like whined. For once he actually sounded like the teenager he was frozen at. "I am not whining," he protested, even though it still came out as more of a whine.

"I don't know. Until we find the one which has the perfect present for your mother in it."

"We've already been to most of the shops in Alaska. Can't you just admit you have no idea what to buy your wife for your anniversary?"

And what sort of husband would that make me? You know you didn't have to come, Edward.

"It was this or stay at home with Tanya," Edward muttered.

Tanya's not that bad, son.

"You can't read her mind," he muttered under his breath.

You could give her a chance, son. It would be nice if you could have the same happiness as me and-

"Not you too. Esme's been trying to encourage me to 'get to know her' for the last seven months, Carlisle. I'm fine. I don't need a mate to be happy."

I wouldn't be so certain about that, Edward. After all, look at how much your mother has changed me.

"Humph," was all he replied.

Your mother's right, Edward. Maybe you should give her a chance.

"Like you did? Apparently her and Kate once had an interest in a very uncooperative doctor."

Far enough, son. And don't mention that to your mother, please.

Edward snorted. "I'm not that stupid."

Well…

"Very funny, Carlisle. And can you please talk out loud. That man's beginning to think I'm mad," he whispered in a voice too quiet for human ears to hear it.

"So what can I get your mother for our anniversary?"

"I don't know. She's your wife… jewellery?"

"Esme isn't really the jewellery sort of woman."

"Aren't all women supposed to be 'jewellery sort of women'?"

I couldn't quite suppress my chuckle. "And when did you become an expert on women?"

"Touché," he admitted. "We're going to be here a long time, aren't we?" he asked with a sigh.

Probably, I admitted. I turned my attention back to the shelves, waiting for the perfect present for Esme to pop out at me.

~o~ ~O~ ~o~

My wife was a flurry of activity as she put the finishing touches to our newly built house. Designed specifically for use by vampires, it had no kitchen and only a small bathroom, with no toilet. The first floor was just one large open-spaced family room, while upstairs there were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small study for me.

With eight vampires working on it, it had been built with ease. Now we had only the painting left to do, the only difficult part of that would be understanding Esme's complex color scheme.

"What color do you want your room, Edward?" I heard my wife shout from where she was stood at a table that was groaning under the weight of the paint pots piled on it.

"I honestly don't care, Esme."

"Right, pink it is then," she quipped.

"No, Esme. Not pink," Edward replied exasperatedly.

"What color then, Edward?"

"Anything but pink."

I chuckled to myself, as I walked over to stand by Esme at the paint table.

"Are you bullying our son?" I mock-reprimanded her, pulling her to me for a gentle kiss.

"What's wrong with pink? I like pink."

"No pink, Esme. There is going to be two men living in this house." She pouted – she actually pouted. It was adorable. I couldn't help myself, planting a quick kiss on her pouting lips.

"Fine, no pink," she agreed.

~o~ ~O~ ~o~

By the 23rd December, our anniversary, the house was finished. It was fully decorated, and I had transported all our furniture from the Canadian house, that had been placed in storage, up here. It was just the two of us. The sisters were back at their house, and Edward had gone on a hunt with Elezear, no doubt to give us some privacy.

Esme was eagerly showing me around our new completed home. The last room she showed me was my small study.

"I suppose you won't need to be in here very often with you not working up here," she said sadly.

"I can start work again in a few years, it doesn't matter, Esme."

"You've had to sacrifice so much because of me."

"And gained so much more," I countered. "I love you," I whispered as I sat down in my chair and pulled her onto my lap.

"I love you too."

"Do you know what day it is today?" I whispered in her ear, pulling her closer.

"Ummm…" She hasn't forgotten, has she?

"It's the 23rd," I told her.

Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. "Our anniversary."

"That's right," I said, as I opened my desk drawer. I picked up the necklace box from inside it. After hours of trailing around shops and coming up empty-handed, I had finally given up and gone with the clichéd.

"Happy anniversary, love," I said, passing her the box. She opened it nervously and gasped at the necklace inside.

"Oh, Carlisle, it's beautiful." Maybe it was my imagination, but it sounded sort of forced. I picked the necklace up and went to put it around her neck. The entire situation felt kind of contrived.

"OK, this couldn't get anymore clichéd if I tried, right?" I joked. Esme smiled slightly.

"Well, I … I … sort of … forgot. So you're doing better than me. I'm so sorry, Carlisle. But with the house and the decorating." She groaned. "I can't believe I forget. I'm a terrible wife."

"I disagree, love. You're the best wife I could possibly have been fortunate enough to find."

"Even though I forget our anniversary?"

"To be honest, love, I had no idea what to get you, so I'm just as bad."

Esme laughed. "What are we like? I still can't believe I forgot our wedding anniversary though. At least you got me a present, albeit a clichéd one, which is better than I did."

"You give me the best present anyone could ever give me everyday," I whispered.

"You too," she replied. Her lips met mine, gently at first, but then with more vigour. My hands moved slowly up from her waist.

"We finally have a bed of our own again," I reminded her. We'd had to get slightly creative in the last seven months.

"Let's go make use of it then," she whispered against my skin.

~o~ ~O~ ~o~

I smiled as the sun came briefly through the window of our bedroom. Esme's bare skin glittered next to mine, and the sunlight reflected off the diamonds still at her neck, the only piece of clothing she wore.

"You are so beautiful," I whispered in her ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied. I would never hear those words enough times.

~End Part Two~


Again with me and my sappy endings - I can't help myself. This was just going to be a typical romantic anniversary before I decided to mix it up with Carlisle being rubbish at finding her a present and Esme forgetting. After all, life isn't always picture perfect but it's those weird different little moments in life that make it great. (Sorry, it seems I'm in a sentimental mood.)

I'd love to hear your thoughts on, not just this chapter, but this section as a whole. Reviews would be greatly appreciated as always :)