AN: I never thought I would write a more-or-less canon backstory fic, but here I am. I was hesitant to do so, since I felt like others had already done this and I didn't want to feel like I was copying them even, if we are working with the same basic backstory Stephenie Meyer gave us. But Esme deserves more love and I enjoyed delving into her story in Hold Onto You, so I wanted to write more.
This is mostly canon-friendly. Some things will be changed - such as Carlisle's physical age being 30 - to keep in headcanon with HOY.
Tags: domestic violence, pregnancy, infant death, suicide, eventual smut
Columbus, Ohio 1911
Esme Platt sighed and shifted in the pew while she listened to the pastor preach. His voice rose and fell but if asked, she wouldn't be able to say what the sermon was about. The moment he instructed the congregation to open their Bibles to the well familiar passage in Luke chapter sixteen, Esme tuned him out, already guessing where this was going. Pastor Hamilton was not very creative. She wished she had brought her sketchbook with her, but her mother forbade her from doing so.
"You're not a child anymore, Esme. You need to pay attention in church."
It seemed that was all her mother was telling her lately - that she wasn't a child anymore.
Seated next to her, her best friend Lena Patterson grabbed her hand and started writing on her palm with a finger. It was a system they came up with to talk to each other in church after Esme's mother caught them with a pencil and piece of paper they snuck in. Esme thought her mother overreacted. It wasn't like they were being loud and disruptive like the younger children sometimes were and she was sure the adults, her mother included, let their minds wander during the sermon.
I-T I-S T-O-O H-O-T, Lena wrote.
I K-N-O-W
It was the middle of May, but it seemed summer was already in full swing. The windows were thrown wide open in hopes of catching a breeze but the air was stubbornly still. The only movement came from the fluttering of the ladies' fans but that barely helped alleviate the oppressive heat. Esme could feel several trickles of sweat fall down her back and she hoped that it wouldn't soak through her dress. She was already regretting wearing her hair down in the carefully styled curls her mother did for her early this morning instead of up in a bun. It clung to the back of her sweaty neck uncomfortably.
Lena sighed. 1-2
W-H-A-T
T-H-E T-I-M-E-S P-A-S-T-O-R S-A-I-D H-E-L-L
Esme fought back a smile. Lena would pay attention to that. She was right, though. Their pastor did seem fixated on hell and quite frankly, Esme hated it.
Finally, Pastor Hamilton wrapped up the sermon, the collection plate was passed around, and they stood to sing the closing hymn.
"Praise God from whom all blessings flow…"
As Esme and Lena followed Esme's parents into the throng of people exiting the church, she caught sight of the blond newcomer who always sat in the back. She wondered why he always left before everyone else, avoiding socializing after the service ended.
She thought he looked lonely.
Someone that beautiful shouldn't be so lonely. She watched him walk away back into town and thought about making it her mission to say hello to him next Sunday, but she was distracted by Lena pulling her towards Lena's parents.
"Mama, may I go over to Esme's for lunch?" she asked.
"Did you ask Mrs. Platt before asking me?" Mrs. Patterson said. She held the hand of a very squirmy Jacob, Lena's little brother, and Mr. Patterson was deep in conversation with Pastor Hamilton.
Esme smiled at her. "She won't mind, of course." Lena was a regular fixture at the Platts' household and Mrs. Patterson knew that well. She didn't understand why they still bothered with the formalities about asking.
Mrs. Patterson agreed and once home, the Platts had an enjoyable lunch with Lena there. After they were finished eating, Esme asked, "Can we go down to the pond?"
"If you take the chicken bucket out with you," Mama said.
With the chicken bucket in one hand and Lena's in the other, Esme left the house. The hens clucked loudly at them when they approached their run, sensing they were about to be fed. Esme opened the door and emptied the bucket. The hens swarmed on the scraps and one grabbed a bit of tomato and ran to the other side of the run with the others following.
"They act like there's not enough to feed them all," Lena laughed.
"They're ridiculous." Esme rolled her eyes, but she did find the hens funny. The way they ran never failed to put a smile on her face. They watched the chickens for a little longer before leaving for the pond.
The pond sat on the edge of the Platt's property and Esme and Lena spent the majority of their time there whenever the weather was good. Esme had so many memories of them coming here as they grew up, talking about everything and daydreaming about their futures together. They'd pick flowers and make crowns in the spring and summer, pretending they were princesses from some unknown country, and pick apples from the tree in the fall.
Since it was so warm, they took off their shoes and stockings and waded a bit into the water. Esme sighed happily; the cool water felt marvelous. A few curious minnows swam up to Lena's feet and she jumped back from them, splashing Esme. Esme splashed her back.
"Hey!" Lena protested.
"You splashed me first," Esme teased.
"Not on purpose." Lena got a devious look in her eye and splashed Esme. "Now that was on purpose."
"Oh, really, I couldn't tell," Esme deadpanned.
When they were done wading, they settled underneath the apple tree and watched the sunlight sparkle on the water. Esme squinted up in the tree branches to see if any tiny apples were growing yet. She loved watching them grow.
"I saw you watching Dr. Cullen at church," Lena said slyly.
Esme turned back to Lena in surprise. "Who?"
Lena nudged her. "You know, the blond man who sits in the back."
"Oh, is that his name?" Esme asked.
She nodded. "When we had to take Jacob up to the hospital after he cut his forehead, it was Dr. Cullen who treated him. He had the most soothing voice I've ever heard in a man and calmed Jacob down right away." That had happened a few weeks ago. Lena's little brother was a bundle of energy and always getting into trouble like that. When Esme didn't say anything to that revelation, Lena said, "So?"
"So what?"
"Do you think he's handsome?" Lena persisted.
Esme sighed. She didn't like it when Lena pushed her about who she found attractive. "I think he looks lonely, that's all. He never socializes."
Only to herself she would admit that she found Dr. Cullen handsome and she was now glad to have a name to the face.
Lena laid down and rested her head in Esme's lap and threaded her fingers through Esme's. "You're hopeless."
"It's a wonder you put up with me."
"Because you're the best friend I've ever had, ever since you put Henry Mills in his place."
"He had it coming," Esme said, remembering. It was back when they were eight years old and Henry made fun of Lena when she had to demonstrate a simple math problem in front of the class and got it wrong. Esme knocked over his inkwell to get him to shut up. She had gotten in trouble for it, of course, but the new friendship between her and Lena had been worth it.
Esme laid down too, closing her eyes. Somehow, the heat felt more pleasant under the shade of the tree and with the cool grass beneath her. She could feel everything within her relaxing now that she was in her element. It was out here that Esme felt God's presence even more than being shut up in that stuffy church. Among the birdsong and the flowers and the sunshine, a God who created the earth just because he wanted something to love made more sense than when sitting on uncomfortable pews listening to a pastor drone about sin and hell. Esme would rather meet nature's God than the church's God.
Of course, she kept that to herself because she knew it would be met with more lecturing about sin and hell and worshiping God in the "correct" way.
Suddenly, Lena squeezed her hand and sat up, bringing Esme out of her thoughts. "Do you hear that?" Lena asked.
Now that Lena mentioned it, there was a persistent low rumbling. Dark clouds billowed on the horizon, coming in fast and swallowing the blue sky. As Esme watched, a fork of lightning struck the ground. The sight sent a thrill down her spine.
"We better get home," Lena said, worried. That was a big difference between them - Lena hated storms while Esme loved them.
Esme agreed for Lena's sake, though she would prefer to stay out and watch it. They quickly stuffed their shoes on and ran back to Esme's house hand in hand, buffeted by the wind. A couple times Esme stopped to look at the storm again and Lena impatiently told her to come on. When the first raindrops caught them, Lena shrieked and Esme laughed, and they only just made it to the front porch before it became a torrential downpour.
Mama met them at the door. "You made it back just in time." Then she sighed and touched Esme's now limp curls. "Though your hair has been ruined."
Esme ducked impatiently out of her mother's touch. "It's only hair, Mama."
Just then, a loud crack of thunder burst over them and Lena jumped, pressing into Esme's side. Mama shepherded them inside. "Come on, get dried off and wait this storm out."
Once they dried off, Esme and Lena passed the time in the sitting room drawing. Or rather, Esme drew and Lena watched. Lena insisted that she didn't have the same talent that Esme had, but Esme said it wasn't about talent. It was simply a matter of picking up a pencil and drawing. Anyone could do it if they had the patience.
Outside, the wind blew fiercely and rain pounded on the roof. Several loud peals of thunder crashed and each time, Lena jumped.
"I hope there isn't a tornado," she worried.
"I doubt there will be. It's just a thunderstorm. Don't worry," Papa said, looking up from the newspaper he was reading.
Papa had a good sense for storms and Esme thought that's where she got her love of them. Mama came out from the kitchen with biscuits and strawberry preserves and Esme helped herself to some before turning back to her drawing. She drew the lightning strike she saw by the pond from memory, but she couldn't quite get the coloring right with her crayons. Eventually, she shrugged and decided to move on rather than frustrate herself over it.
Once the storm passed, Lena decided she should get home and Esme volunteered to walk with her. They passed the pond and apple tree again on their way to the road. The sun was lower on the horizon and they had to squint against the glare. Esme turned around for a moment and saw there was a rainbow set against the backdrop of the retreating storm.
"Lena, look!"
Lena whirled around. "Oh!" she gasped.
"And you wonder why I love storms."
"Well, after they're not so bad."
The sight of the rainbow was too beautiful and Esme didn't want to stop looking at it. She approached the tree and caught hold of the lowest hanging branch.
"Esme, what are you doing?"
"I just want a better look." She hoisted herself up on the branch and then looked for the next one.
"You can't get a good look on the ground?"
Esme ignored that and kept climbing.
"Esme, stop. I'm supposed to be getting home."
"I won't be long," Esme called. She didn't notice that the branch she balanced on had been weakened by the wind during the storm. It cracked beneath her and she had a second to think that she had made a terrible mistake, before the whole thing fell.
The last thing she remembered was Lena screaming her name.
AN: I'm basing Esme's church experience on some of my own experiences with a fundamentalist church. Christian fundamentalism in America was in its very nascent beginnings at this time so that might be a bit anachronistic but oh well. I'm not promising complete historical accuracy here. lol. Thank you for reading!