Chapter Fifty-One: Home

In Transit, December 1921

Esme

The rain began to pour down in sheets somewhere between Ashland County and Mackinaw City. I counted the miles for a while when Edward and I ran out of things to talk about, and Carlisle grew quieter and quieter with his eyes glued to the road, but I lost count when the roads became desolate junctions of grey skies and muddy sludge on the ground. I'd given up hope in trying to engage either of the two men in any form of conversation because it was utterly apparent that neither were in any kind of mood to converse, although I was acutely aware from the every changing tones of Edward's sighs that they indeed were conversing, but the topic was not one that was deemed appropriate for my ears. So perhaps my silence was a little bit of a miffed one too.

After nearly six hours driving in the dark rain, the buildings that sparsely scattered the landscape began to appear closer to one another, until we found ourselves in a quiet little settlement. Carlisle navigated the streets, which turned from dirt to stone when we reached a point that was obviously densely populated, and somehow managed to bring us to a dock. He parked the car and gave me a brief smile before opening the door, and hopping out as quickly as possible to avoid letting too much rainwater in. Carlisle pulled his jacket closer to his body and dashed to a small dwelling near the shores of the Straits of Makinac. He had hired a railroad car ferry to take our automobile across the river – this wasn't strictly allowed seeing as though railroad car ferries were designed for trains and not private automobiles, but one would be quite surprised exactly what a lofty sum of money could achieve – but from where we had parked, there was no boat in sight.

Edward checked his wristwatch, "We're on time," he murmured, his dark mood still colouring his brow.

Carlisle knocked on the door of the small house, and turned around with pursed lips, surveying the area, obviously noting the very same missing object that we had. The door swung open and a large man with red cheeks appeared with an unhappy look upon his face.

"Good evening, my name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen…"

"Ah yes," the man nodded, cutting him off, "You're out of luck, sir. Ferry is stuck on the wrong side of the strait. Some emergency, don't remember what though. Won't be back for a while."

I saw Carlisle's jaw tighten, "Do you have a rough estimate of how long?"

The man shrugged, "You're probably looking at three days."

Carlisle's lips pursed again, his expression was set in unhappiness. He gave a stiff nod, "Thank you for your time."

The man shrugged again, and slammed the door in Carlisle's face. He let out a soft sigh, and turned around to make his way back to the car. He didn't run, or hurry as he would have usually, just to keep up appearances, but rather he walked slowly in the rain with his shoulders slightly slumped, and a calculating expression upon his face.

When he reached the car he got in silently, and then ran his fingers through his hair, "I suppose you both heard that?" He wondered.

Edward and I nodded.

Carlisle looked to me with sad eyes, "I'm sorry love," he whispered.

"Whatever for?" I wondered, "This is just an adventure. If we have to get out and run, that's okay. If we have to wait, that's all right, and if we have to find another way, that's fine too."

He stared at me for a while longer with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and then gave me a brief tight smile, before turning to Edward.

"What are your views, son?" He wondered.

Edward shrugged, "Find another way, I suppose."

Carlisle's expression tightened again, but he nodded, and turned the car back on once more. Soon enough we were backing out onto the road and drive back the way we came.

"There's no other way of crossing the river," Edward explained after hearing my somewhat confused thoughts, and then let out a laugh, "So back to Ashland we go."

As we drove for another six hours back to Ashland, the boys explained that the quickest way around the lakes, which required no boats, was through a small town called Grand Portage, roughly three hours north west of Duluth. Edward seemed enthusiastic about the extra time spent driving, but it was highly obvious that Carlisle was not. I realised then, what the friction between the two mean could be accredited to – Edward thought this journey was a good idea, but Carlisle did not. I wasn't certain how I could improve Carlisle's mood, so in the absence of any good ideas, I acted upon no impulse, and sat in my seat with my hands on my lap the entire journey.

We drove straight through Grand Portage when we reached it sometime in the morning, and onto a fast paced gulley of water called Pigeon River. There was a medium sized bridge connecting the two sides, which Carlisle was driving quickly toward.

"Is that safe?" I wondered. It was the first time in a good four hours that any of us had spoken.

Edward shrugged, "I guess we'll see."

Carlisle nodded, and gave me a small smile, "People use it all the time, love. We'll be fine."

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning his head against the glass, and I took that as my cue not to ask any more questions in fear of furthering their friction any more.

I did not like crossing the river one bit, although it was not as bad as the first moments taking off in the plane. No matter how unpleasant, we made it across just fine.

We drove for a while after, until we reached a city either named Fort William or Port Arthur (the boys weren't sure), and Edward requested that Carlisle pull over.

"I'd like to run for a short time," the young boy said curtly.

"To where?" Carlisle asked curiously, in his ever-gentle manner.

"Around," Edward offered no more explanation.

One of Carlisle's eyebrows quirked upward but he asked no further questions. So, instead, I did.

"He meant, where will we meet you once you are done?"

Edward eyed me curiously, as I tried to deduce if there was any other contributing factors to his somewhat surely mood.

He merely shrugged, and turned away, "One hundred miles ahead, along the coast line. I'll do a brief hunt, and meet you in, say, three hours?"

Carlisle pulled the car over in a side street, where Edward got out and offered me a small smile before walking off down the road.

"Would you like to have a look around, or continue on, love?" Carlisle wondered.

I looked around out the window, the darkness was in full swing, and the town looked to be mostly asleep, "What is the time?" I wondered.

"About half passed four in the morning."

"Let's carry on," I murmured, "Unless you want a break from driving?"

He smiled and shook his head, before placing a quick kiss on my cheek and turning the car back on.

I moved to shuffle to the other side of the seat, but Carlisle shook his head and grabbed my hand before I could.

"I like having you close," was his only justification, and it was more than enough.

He didn't let go of my hand as he drove, and I could see that although his mood was still far from stellar, it was much better without Edward in the car. The atmosphere was lighter, more pleasant.

When we had driven far enough away from the city, I decided to ask him what was wrong.

"Carlisle?" I wondered.

"Yes, love?" His eyes flicked to me and softened for a moment before flicking back to the road.

"What is the matter with Edward?"

Carlisle shook his head and sighed, "We've just a had a minor disagreement, that's all love."

I stroked his hand with my thumb, "It doesn't truly seem that minor."

Carlisle smiled a small smile, "I am of the opinion that driving to Halifax is not the wisest idea, yet Edward believes it to be splendid."

"Then why is it us in the car, and he on his feet?"

Carlisle laughed, "Exactly. The roads are not quite up to the standard that Edward believes, and you know how he gets sometimes. It's very hard to him to see that he is wrong – he is more than able to accept it, but seeing it is the hard part."

"True," I nodded, "But that doesn't seem enough to elicit such a reaction in him. It usually takes more to rile him up as such."

Carlisle offered no reply, by my mind came up with a conclusion of it's own.

"Carlisle Cullen!" I exclaimed, "What have you been saying to him in that head of yours?"

He let out a single laugh, and wore a small smile, "Nothing truly horrible. Mostly, I've just been upset with myself. I should have never been soft enough to allow this in the first place. I need to learn how to tell him no. I knew it was a bad idea, and Mackinaw City confirmed that."

I pursed my lips, "Pull over."

He glanced at me in confusion.

"Pull over," I insisted.

Looking most bewildered, Carlisle guided the car to the side of the road near the fringe of a forest.

"Now look at me, Doctor Cullen," I instructed, tucking my legs onto the seat beneath me and crawling closer to him.

His eyes revealed his suspicion, but the small smile upon his lips told me that he knew I bore no ill will. I made it to his lap and placed two hands on either side of his face.

"I know you," I murmured, "I know how you are hard on yourself, I know how you berate yourself inside when something you plan doesn't go right, but this was out of your control. And I beg you not to hate the golden softness of yourself for that is one of the many reasons why I adore you so, my darling husband. Your gentleness, and kind heart are rare, and beautiful traits that need never been subject to resentment or hate."

I placed a soft kiss upon his lips, "So tell me, please, promise me, that if something goes wrong in the next forty-eight hours, or however long it will take for us to get to Halifax, you will not spend the rest of the drive torturing your poor self because there are some things in life one can not control."

He reached up to stroke my cheek tenderly, "You are precious, my sweet darling," he murmured.

I grinned, and nodded, to which he chuckled.

"You do not blame me?" He wondered, once the mood had shifted back to its former somewhat somber kind.

I shook my head, "Not one bit. I have no blame to place, you know how I am with adventure, it is as nearly as necessary as blood to me."

Some muted light behind his eyes switched on with rigour as he grinned, "For a slight moment there I though you might tell me it was as necessary as air."

I laughed, "I'll admit, I nearly did."

He nuzzled my nose while smiling one of my most favourite smiles, and I was most glad that his solemn mood had begun to pass.

"May I kiss you again?" He wondered in a whisper.

My eyelids fluttered closed and I smiled at him, "May you kiss me always?" I replied.

He chuckled as his lips softly met mine, in the front seat of the Duesenberg.

It was perhaps, nearly four more hours until we reached our rendezvous location with Edward, who emerged from the trees as we approached. He smiled as he climbed into the car, and wisely did not ask what took us so long.

"It's turned out to be quite the day," he noted, as he gazed up at the bright white sky.

"It has," Carlisle agreed, "High chances of snow?" He wondered.

Edward nodded, "I'd say. I passed some houses not far away, they seemed to be finding the temperature unbearably cold."

"I hope the cloud cover stays dense," Carlisle mused.

"As do I," Edward agreed.

We continued on the road for a short while, the mood in the cab had improved tenfold, but there was still very little conversation to be held. I watched the forest tress fly by, and caught a few glances of the northern end of Lake Superior, and committed them to memory in hopes I could paint them one day. Not even an hour had passed since we rejoined with Edward before the car began to make a most peculiar noise.

"No!" Edward breathed, with eyes as wide as dinner plates, as a dark billow of smoke arising from the machine caught my eye.

Carlisle pulled the car over to the side of the road once more, and the boys hopped out. I followed suit. The smoke was thick and sooty, coming from the engine.

"It's not just overheated," I heard Edward say, "Something is really wrong."

Carlisle sighed, and a half conversation ensued.

I wasn't sure how long it would take the boys to fix the problem, but I could tell it wouldn't be instant. So I wandered back around to the cab and fished through the bags n the back seat until I managed to find my sketchbook and pencils, with a self satisfied smile, I decided to spend the time drawing the beautiful view of the lake to my right.

As the boys worked (and decided that Edward would need to run back to the city to fetch a part, which was bound to take at least three hours) I drew plenty of different sketches of the landscape, and of course, my two favourite inhabitants of the Earth.

When Edward disappeared into town, perhaps forty minutes later, Carlisle joined me on the rocks.

"That's a beautiful drawing," he murmured from behind.

"Hmmm? Oh," I laughed, and gave a little shrug, "Thank you, it's just a rough sketch."

He grinned, "If you call that a rough sketch you should see my finished drawings, they're atrocious." He rubbed my back a little as I grinned up at him.

"Do not lie, Doctor Cullen," I scolded him.

He laughed as he sat down, on a rock not too far away, "Oh, but it's the truth."

"And is it the same sort of truth you tired to feed me when you said you could not play the piano?" I wondered.

He gave me an impish grin, "In my defence, compared to Edward, I can't."

I shook my head indulgently, "One should run their own race, you know."

He agreed with a nod, removing the hat from his head, and running a hand through that lovely corn silk hair of his. He looked out to the lake, and sighed with a small smile on his face, then began to fiddle with the hat he held.

With a private smile, I flicked over a page in my drawing book, and began to roughly sketch my husband. "I see you and Edward are on better terms all ready," I noted quietly, catching his eye, "That was quick."

He gave me a small smile and a brief shrug, "There's nothing like bonding over a broken car."

I raised a cheeky eyebrow, and let out a laugh, "Oh really?"

He grinned and shook his head indulgently, then ran his hands through his hair again, "How about I reiterate that – there's nothing like father and son bonding over a broken car."

"There we go!" I beamed, "That's better."

Carlisle merely shook his head once more, and kept grinning at me.

"Are you drawing me again, love?" He wondered.

I smirked, "I'm always drawing you."

Over the following hours that it took for Edward to return with the needed parts for the broken car, Carlisle and I discussed many topics I never even realised we needed to discuss, which weren't all necessarily related to our move. He wondered if I'd like to learn to drive the car – I informed him I did not. He wondered if I'd like to join Edward and he when they had the odd sparing session – I informed him I did not. He wondered if I would like to choose the colour scheme for the new house all by myself – I informed him that although the idea was very tempting, I would allow he and Edward to have some input, even if it was vetoed by me. He asked if I was particularly keen on meeting his new colleagues – I said, only if he wanted me too, I wasn't fussed. He jokingly wondered if I'd like to learn how to fix the car – I informed him that I most certainly did not. And we talked in such fashion for a great length of time. It was a beautiful and refreshing moment as we sat on the rocky shores, a few stones apart, laughing, and joking, and just having fun.

It took most of the day for the car to be fixed, and it was once again dark before we were able to continue on upon our journey. The stop turned out to be advantageous for us, however, in many more ways than one. The first, being that I had time to truly appreciate the landscape, and fill an entire book with landscapes and portraits of the most beautiful things. The second being that it gave Edward and Carlisle time to actually discuss their little rift, and work it out, and although they spoke in hushed tones, I did manage to catch some of what was going on.

"You're in a better mood," Edward had noted when Carlisle was fitting the part.

There was silence as Carlisle mentally replied.

"Well it hasn't gone wrong at all, look at us, we're having fun, bonding, etcetera… What do you mean Mackinaw? … Perhaps hiring the boat wasn't the best idea… Endanger our family, how? We're just taking a road trip… You're being silly Carlisle… Since when do I talk to you like this? I can talk to you how I like… Pushing the boundaries? What boundaries? I'm free to do as I please… Respect? You are joking, aren't you? I do respect you…" Edward's defensive tone had turned soft, "I respect you more than you'll ever know Carlisle, sometimes I think it is even to my own detriment. I do realize that the only reason we are driving and not running is because it is what I wanted, and I firmly stand by that desire. I do not think this has been a mistake… Of course, I realize how it could be a mistake… I see what you're thinking, but I don't quite understand it to the same extent that you seem to…"

Carlisle sighed, "You are a different person than I, Edward, this is to be expected. As you stated before, you're free to do as you please, therefore you are free to think as you please too. You needn't agree with all I think."

"You think that is a disadvantage of my gift?" Edward was beginning to become irate again.

"No, I don't believe so," Carlisle replied calmly.

"I don't believe my gift has a disadvantage, don't get me wrong, it's most unpleasant sometimes, it has drawbacks, yes, but I cannot think of a disadvantage."

Carlisle took a deep breath, and stood up, "Then perhaps you have found it."

Edward's brow furrowed, and he contemplated Carlisle for a moment, as the blonde man cleaned his hands with an old rag. He began to walk around to the back of the car, Edward followed behind him, like a child begging for attention with an unhappy pout upon his face, at that thought, he flicked me a glance, stopped in his tracks, and rearranged his features into a mask of stone.

"I know where this is coming from!" He exclaimed, causing Carlisle to look up with interest, "You've been reading The Journal of Abnormal Psychology again, haven't you? I'm a gifted vampire, Carlisle, not a basket case."

Carlisle laughed, "I've never once implied anything of the sort, Edward. I'm merely pointing out that there are a great deal many things in life that we will disagree on, this trip happens to be one."

"Yes, and another," Edward hissed quietly, "Is your feelings of failing us. I'm failing to understand why you view this trip as such a muck up."

"A day long detour is definitely something I view as a plan gone wrong," Carlisle let out a humourless laugh.

"Well," Edward huffed, "We're not in any danger."

"You are right, and that is key. Here," Carlisle handed Edward an object I couldn't see, "You can fit this one."

"You made the right decision," Edward murmured, Carlisle cocked an eyebrow, "Agreeing to my plan. We're happy here. Look at Esme, look how happy she is drawing and eavesdropping."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "You two are so loud I can't ignore you."

Edward laughed, "Nor are you trying to."

"What's the point in trying when you're fully aware from previous experience that all attempts will be furtive?"

Carlisle grinned, and flicked a pointed look toward Edward, who sighed and shrugged.

"I apologise," he let out in a huff, "Shall we be passive aggressive, and agree to disagree?"

Carlisle grinned, and held out a hand to shake, "It sounds like a deal."

And with that, the boys ended their somewhat confusing (to a third party such as I) spat.

Not long after we filed back into the car and continued along the road. Night fell a short time later, and the third advantage to our day-long stop became apparent, for as we rounded a corner from a stretch of road that was surrounded by particularly dense bush, the most beautiful sight of Lake Superior was ahead, and above it the sky was green.

A loud gasp escaped my lips as I leaned forward in my seat. Edward let out an excited laugh, and I could just image Carlisle's grin.

"Well aren't we lucky?" He let out a chuckle.

"They're extraordinary," I murmured, as I tried to memorise the green lines, which danced with some red ones too.

"Can we pull over?" Edward wondered.

Carlisle nodded, and guided the car to the edge of the road once more. In my haste to get outside, I nearly pushed him out of the car.

He laughed, "Patience is a virtue, Esme!"

"Nonsense," I shook my head, "I'm all ready married, I need not bother with all of that."

Carlisle's booming laughter echoed throughout the whole night, and I was almost irrationally afraid that he would scare away the startling lights in the sky. Edward's laughter joined in, as he gazed at me with utter fondness, and squeezed my hand in his. My spirits soared with the Northern Lights above, as I looked between the two smiles of the two men I loved.

"Let's get closer to the water!" Edward exclaimed, as he pulled my hand.

I nodded, and ran forward, as Carlisle fished in the car for something. We were nearly at the bushes by the shores of the lake when Carlisle called out our names.

"Esme! Edward!" He was still by the car as Edward tugged at my hand some more. The young boy laughed as we turned our heads only to be met by the flash of the camera and my husband's jubilant laugh.

So, how was I supposed to know, then and there, with spirits soaring with happiness after the resolution of the boy's disagreement, that that was the last picture, for nearly fifteen years, which we would get of Edward's smile?


Just Outside Montreal, Quebec, Canada, December 1921

Carlisle

Esme's laughter filled the cab with popping bubbles and ringing bells, as we flew down a country road not too far from Montreal. Edward was muttering away about the silly names we'd chosen as our aliases one day when he wasn't interested, and how unoriginal they were. It was in good jest, I could tell that much just by the way that his eyes shined when my darling wife pursed her lips to show her dimples, and let the laughter bubble from her chest to her lips. I knew her toes would be curling in her shoes as they always did when she laughed like that, oh how her happiness seeped into my veins.

"You couldn't choose anything better than Colin Carlyle? Really?" Edward grinned and shook his head, "And Mason Anthony?"

Another fit of giggles shook Esme's body but she offered no reply. I even found myself chuckling along too, which was a stark difference from my mood earlier in the journey, when thoughts of failure waltzed round in my mind in a never-ending circle. Edward shot me a warning glance, and I could nearly hear his silent prayer that I wouldn't start it up again.

I merely smiled, and promised I wouldn't, so he went back to amusing my wife, and I refocussed my attention on the drive.

Montreal was busy when we arrived midafternoon. Workers, tourists, and city goers bustled down the streets murmuring to one another in fast paced French. We stopped in the city to pick up some documents, and finalise a few things before we carried on to Quebec City, and then to Halifax.

"Bonjour, comment ca va?" I smiled at the bank teller, whose black hair was combed back with much precision and care. Esme and Edward stood behind me, the former looking around with delight and wonder in her eyes at the architecture of the bank, and the latter looking most amused at the other bank customers.

"Tres bien, merci, et vous?" He replied with a friendly smile.

"Oui, tres bein!" I nodded, and quickly withdrew the money I required. As we turned to leave a question popped into my head, "Tell me, have you ever driven to Halifax?" I wondered out of pure curiosity, "Is the journey a good one?"

"Oui, monsieur, the roads have greatly improved recently, you should make it with no issues."

"Merci beaucoup, have a nice day."

He nodded and waved us off. As we walked away I caught Edward grin from the corner of my eye, What is it? I wondered.

He just shook his head, but I got the feeling his gloating smile was saying 'I told you so.' Nonetheless, I still wasn't comfortable with driving such long distances.

"The language is so beautiful," Esme murmured as we walked down the steps from the bank, "But so quick, it's hard to pick up what they're saying sometimes."

"It's the same for their thoughts," Edward murmured, "I understand most things, but it's harder to translate everything and everyone, so instead of thousands of thoughts in my head, it's a little like background noise. I've no doubts that when I become more familiar with the language it will be just like thoughts in English, but I'm thinking the best idea for me would be to move to a foreign speaking country and never bother to learn the language."

Esme laughed, "I'm not sure that you'd be able to avoid learning the language for very long, especially considering that Carlisle and I would have to learn it and you'd be around our thoughts constantly."

I opened the car door for Esme when we reached it and helped her in; Edward entered form the other side.

"Carlisle already thinks in multiple languages, you know."

Esme looked to me with wide eyes, "No, I didn't know that."

I shrugged, and grinned at her as I started the car, "I've had a lot of time to learn many languages, sometimes I like to keep things to myself… like planes."

Edward laughed, and Esme grinned, but her expression soon turned to a contemplative one, "What languages do you know, Edward?"

"All the ones you do, and a few more."

"All right, which ones don't you know?" She wondered.

"I've never learned Greek actually," he murmured, looking out the window, "Perhaps I'll learn that next."

Esme nodded, "I'll have to learn one that you don't know… or perhaps make up one of my own."

Edward chuckled, "But I'll hear you devising it."

"Well, obviously I wouldn't do it when you were within hearing range."

Much of the following hours travelling north, and then east were spent with Esme and Edward conversing in such a fashion.

It was a long drive to Halifax, and the roads were not nearly as good as I was promised they were, on the odd occasion, Edward and I had to get out and push the car. It overheated too many times to count, and took us much longer than it should have to make it to our new home. By the time we arrived, all three of us were covered in mud from head to toe, clothes ruined, hair mattered, but somehow, our spirits were still high. The happiness could be accredited to Esme, for I was very nearly certain that there were many occasion where Edward could have lost his cool and pounced at me. Our conversations had turned to debates, our debates had teetered on the edge of arguments, but Esme had a smile gracing her lips for the most part, and she murmured in her quiet voice about adventures, and I could see in her eyes that she was genuinely enjoying herself.

The fourth time that the car overheated, after we had just pulled it out of one very boggy patch Edward had sighed, and sat down on the side of the road with a very surly look upon his face.

After a short while, he sighed a deep sigh once more, as though he was exhaling all animosity that might have been pent up in his system.

"I suppose," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, "That driving to Halifax wasn't the best idea I have ever had."

I smiled and sat down next to him, clapping him on the back once, "How were we to know this was how it would go. I apologise for not letting the matter drop, really. It's not so bad."

Edward laughed and looked up toward Esme who stood in front of us both with an innocent expression on her mud spluttered face. Her hair was falling out of the neat bun she usually had it in, and her dress (which had started out as pink but was now brown) was ripped in about fourteen different places, and she wore only one shoe, the other half of the pair had decided to bury itself so deep in mud that we were unable to retrieve it.

"Not so bad," he murmured, shaking his head.

Esme pursed her lips, "Do I really look that frightful?" She wondered.

We shook our heads. "You truthfully look beautiful," I murmured.

She laughed fondly, and moved to sit by my side. "It's been a bit of fun," she murmured, "You do have to remember, my city boys, that I was raised on a farm and I've always been partial to mud."

Edward laughed, "I can imagine."

We soon fell into silence as we waited for the steam to stop rising from the Duesenberg's engine.

"What is it going to look like, pulling into the realtor's office in Halifax to pick up the house key, looking like we do?" Edward wondered.

"Very peculiar, I'd say." Esme murmured, "But this family doesn't really have a history of fitting in, does it?"

We managed to clean the car on the edges of Halifax, and quickly change into fresh clothes, so we didn't look so peculiar as we arrived at the realtor's office in the morning. The man was a standoffish, middle aged and slightly frightened red head, who eyed us with a mixture of curiosity and distrust, but handed over the brass key without very many questions. He provided brief instructions as to how to reach the property on the edges of town that I purchased not long ago, and all too eagerly bid us farewell.

We headed east toward the water, and not twenty minutes later we pulled off the road onto a barely discernable gravel driveway with overgrown plants on either side. As we neared the house I grew more and more anxious, wondering what Esme would think of the house that I bought her. Would the aspect be right? Would there be enough light? Would it feel like a home? Was there enough work to be done? Was there too much work to be done? What if she wanted a house that was completely different to the stone house that lay in a small clearing at the end of the long drive?

My hands clenched on the wheel as my stomach flipped with more and more unease. Esme shifted by my side, and gingerly reached her fingers out to brush my knuckles. I looked down to her and she smiled reassuringly up at me. I wanted to relax, and I did a little, but her happiness meant far too much to me, I could not forget my worries. I forced a smile, but it didn't fool her for a second.

"Here it comes," Edward murmured, eyes fixed on the clearing ahead.

Esme's head quickly turned back to face the windscreen, as her eyes flamed with curiosity.

The trees parted to reveal a somewhat circular clearing filled with greatly overgrown grass, dead flowers, and far too many weeds, which tightly hugged a white stoned, small manor with a roof that looked to be crumbling, and had foliage growing out of it. There were two chimneys that looked to be inspired by the leaning tower of Pisa, and a tiny stone porthole on the second storey above the front door, which looked as though it was stolen from the lost wreck of the Titanic. The windows however were large, despite being grimy and smashed, and the door was understated, but it had an elegant beauty to it. Esme didn't say a word when she saw the house, but I noted that she didn't look too disappointed, in fact her eyes were still alight with excitement.

I pulled up a short way from the house and helped her out, as Edward jumped out the other side.

She slipped her hand inside of mine as we headed toward the two story stone house. She let her free hand run through the wayward plants we navigated, and she smiled a delicate smile as we neared the house. I readied the key, and as we came to a stop in front of the door, I slipped it into the hole.

Opening the door and ushering her in, I announced, "I give thee a canvas of grand proportions!"

She giggled and beamed at me before laying her eyes on the old, creaky house. They first fell on the staircase, which was immediately left of the door. It's battered stairs, covered in dust, curved around the corner of the room, and then ran parallel to the hallway until it disappeared into the upper floor. I watched as she turned around and gazed down the long hallway, with grimy walls that may have once been white, and chipped, dented, and dusty wooden floorboards. It took a sharp left turn a far way from the front door, and a large arch in the direct path of the houses entrance opened up into the main room. Esme curiously began to walk forward with careful precision, as her eyes readily swallowed in her surroundings. At the end of the staircase on the right wall were two closed doors, one of which she gingerly opened by gently twisting the brass knob. It opened up into an empty rectangular room with large floor to ceiling windows, surrounded my intricate moulding, on each of its two exterior walls. I could see from the look in her eyes that she was all ready planning things for the room. The morning light filtered through the windows, making perfectly clear the streams of dust that were floating all about the room. Esme wandered to the center, and stood in the streams of light looking around with astoundment.

"Do you like it?" I murmured, feeling mostly at ease but with a slight worry in my stomach.

Her mouth fell ajar, and slowly she shook her head. The worry I felt slowly began to increase, but there was a logical nagging in the back of my brain that told me she must adore it.

"It's… it's too perfect to merely like… Are you sure… Are you sure this is ours, Carlisle? Are you positively certain that we may keep this house and live in it? Because if you are not, we'd best leave now before I can fall in love with it anymore."

I beamed, and the worry left my stomach, being replaced with sheer pride and excitement, "I am certain, my love, this is ours to keep."

She shook her head in wonder, then her eyes fell on me and she beamed.

I held out the key to her as proof, and she bolted to me, wrapping her slim arms around my body, and burying her head in my chest.

"Oh, thank you, Carlisle, thank you, thank you, thank you."

My arms automatically wrapped around her and held her to me tightly, as I buried my face in her hair, "Anything for you, my love. Anything at all."

There was a quiet sigh from the doorway, as Edward's figure disappeared, but I payed it no mind as I held my wife tight. After a short while her excitement became too much to allow anymore of our embrace, so she pulled away and grasped the brass key in her delicate little fingers, before she danced out of the room and began to investigate the house more.

I stood in the hallway, watching her flutter in and out of every room, with love in my heart, leaning up against the grimy wall.

Edward soon came to stand next to me with his hands in his pockets. He wore a strange expression as he watched Esme excitedly explore the house. When, after some time, he didn't respond to the curiosity in my mind, I decided to voice my befuddlement.

"What are you thinking?" I wondered.

He let out a small huff and shifted his feet awkwardly, as though fighting some internal battle. He screwed up his face a little and then groaned.

"Okay," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, "You win."

I watched in a bemused silence as he sauntered darkly away wondering what exactly I'd won.

It wasn't until I caught sight of the sheer excitement on Esme's face once more that I realised he was referring to our little competition over who could give Esme the best gift.

I'd no hope in smothering the jubilant laughter that rose from my chest.

"Took you long enough!" Edward called from somewhere not too far away.

I think I just found the key, I thought to him, visualising the rusty old key in my wife's hands, Literally.


A.N. Hello again! This was originally supposed to be two chapters, but I decided I didn't like it as two chapters, it didn't feel right, so that explains why there's a Point of View change in the middle there (In fact, I didn't even like the first half at all). So the first half: I hope it was obvious that Esme completely missed out on an entire conversation between Edward and Carlisle between Ashland and Mackinaw City, in which Carlisle spent the whole time fretting over whether the family would make it to Halifax in the car or not. I don't think international road trips would have been something that was recommended in the 20s, because the roads probably weren't that good yet. Anyway, so Edward got cranky because Carlisle kept berating himself about agreeing to the road trip, which Edward thought would be a splendid idea because he loves the car. (Yes, he would have loved running too - and probably loved it more - but the car would have still been somewhat of a novelty then, and he wouldn't have done such a big drive before). Anyway, that was their little disagreement. Oh, and the final line of Esme's part doesn't mean that Edward isn't happy for the next fifteen years, just clarifying. It means something else. :)

Then, the house! More of that in the next chapter, which will be from Esme's point of view so of course she'll tell us more. Then we'll also tackle a very common little problem that Esme and Carlisle always face, but haven't yet faced it in this story, so that covers our next two chapters. Then the two chapters after that will find Esme in a very tricky and vampire like place one day in the forest, the two chapters after that find Esme doing things she really doesn't want to do, thanks to Edward convincing Carlisle it's a great idea, then we have two chapters that shake the family up a little more by a little visit from a particular person in someone's past. Then we're going to mend up all of the problems and have a little fluff and ... then IT'S DONE. So that leaves us with... 10 chapters and an Epilogue. Wow!

Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, and constant following - it's really appreciated. This is such a great way for me to practise my writing, and try new things, and get feedback, so I'm really thankful to you all - even those of you who don't review, just having readers is feedback in itself. So thank you all! Hope you're all well! I have finals for the next two weeks, so you might or might not hear from me for a while.

Much love x

Oh, and forgive my French above if it was wrong!