Chapter 67 Chapter Notes
Bella can hardly contain her enthusiasm. Although she picked out all the furniture, appliances, floor coverings, and paint schemes (except for the media room), she has no idea what can be accomplished by Immortals with access to power tools and an unlimited supply of money.
The chapter title belongs to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
Chapter 67 Our House
I call Esme and she says that the house will probably be finished by the end of the week. This puts Bella in such a state of nervous anticipation that she finds it impossible to focus on anything at school. Teachers ask her questions she can't answer and she fails a test in Economics.
On Friday morning, I don't tell her that we're scheduled for our walk through that afternoon. As we plod to the Volvo, she says, "So, can I see the house yet? Will it ever be finished?"
As I skip the turn that would take us to my old house, and instead take the road toward home, she looks at me. I can't keep the smile off of my face. "Oh my god. Are you serious?" I nod, and she bounces up and down in her seat like a child waiting on Santa Claus.
I'm more excited to see her reactions than I am to actually see the final, finished product for myself. I've lived in lots of nice places. Thanks to Esme, I've lived in a lot of shacks as well, but I chuckle to myself about those and drive on.
Friday, December 1st
When we pull into the driveway, Bella is out of her door before the car stops moving. Esme walks out onto the porch and smiles at Bella's open-mouthed astonishment of the repainted porch, candy-apple red shutters, and bright crimson doormat.
We wipe our feet and Esme leads us inside, where Bella is met with her first view of the refurbished stairs. They're a golden brown with a flat, red runner up the middle. "Are we in the right house?" she asks, a little panic in her voice. She's probably remembering the before stairs, which were worn and chipped, stained a dark, muddy brown.
"Emmett and Rosalie did these from start to finish," Esme says. They stripped, sanded and stained them. We laid the runner this morning."
"They look brand new," Bella says. "What kind of wood are they?"
"They're maple, Bella. I'm unsure why they were stained so dark as to cover the grain."
Esme leads us to the living room. Bella stands in the doorway and Esme edges past her, beckoning her in. I can't hear her thoughts, of course, but I wonder if she's remembering the old living room. It had been a shabby, overcrowded box with one tiny window covered with mini blinds and dusty drapes, furnished with an aging rump-sprung sofa, a threadbare easy chair, and more tables than a small diner.
When judging Bella's responses, Esme and I keep in mind that Bella has never lived in a new house, or as in this case, a totally refurbished one. We would have been shocked if Bella had strolled in and nonchalantly pronounced her approval. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Esme worries that Bella will be too emotional.
One day last week, I'd arrived late at night to find Esme putting the finishing touches on the kitchen. She looked at me worriedly and thought, How will Bella react when she sees what we've done to her house? Will she vomit? Cry? She won't faint, will she?
I'd actually laughed out loud, but here we are, two minutes into the walk through, and Bella looks like she's going to hurl, her eyes are brimming with tears and she has a wide-eyed look that makes me want to urge her to put her head between her knees.
Esme glances at me. What did I say? Catch her if she falls over!
But I don't think Bella is about to faint, although she is a bit breathless. She blinks back tears, bends down and brushes her hand over the plush area rug, a large beige and red swirl. Esme purses her lips as Bella stands up and stumbles over to the red sectional couch. "I know I picked this out, but I never thought it would be so soft and bright."
She sits tentatively, on the very edge, but I crawl on and lean against the cushions. Bella shivers excitedly and scoots back. I put my arm around her. "Won't it be fun to lounge and look at TV on cold, rainy days?" And since I'm a guy and am now living with Bella full time in all of her human, hormonal glory, I can't look at anything even remotely horizontal without thinking of Bella's body, laid out on it naked, while I tend to her needs. And my needs.
We eye the television, all sixty-five inches of it, mounted to the opposite wall. Esme points to the media cabinet, directly below. "There's a Blu-ray player, a CD player, two video game systems, and a Bose sound system."
Bella rolls off of the couch and shakes her head. "Esme, I can't believe what you've done with this room." She fingers the gauzy curtains that hang over white wooden blinds. Bella looks to the adjacent wall, which had been bare, except for a few tacky pictures. It now has the same window, blinds and gauzy curtains.
"What, did you cut this window into the house?" Bella asks this as if Esme is the first person on the face of the Earth to think of such a thing.
Esme chuckles. "We did. I thought this room needed more light." The blinds are down, probably for effect, and when Esme pulls them up, even the diffuse sun from a cloudy day pours into the room. "We used the same type of window in the upstairs rooms, but these are wider. They all have the arch at the top and the same blinds and curtains." I know these well, as they are fixtures in every Cullen house. White wooden blinds and long, gauzy curtains in a blinding white over windows with an arch at the top.
Even though I was here and took part in the refurbishment, I'm in awe, as I haven't seen these rooms with their furniture in place. Even though I've said it before, I have to say it again. "Esme, you're a genius. This space has been totally transformed."
She raises an eyebrow."Okay, let's move on to the sitting room."
Bella says, "Sitting room?" Esme sweeps her arm out and we follow Bella into the foyer, but have to stop walking as she freezes in the wide doorway. She looks back at both of us, her lips parted in wonder. "Go on in," Esme urges, and finally Bella finds her feet and walks a little unsteadily into the room.
"My god," Bella whispers. She stands rooted in place, and takes in the entire room. Her heart is thrumming and I'm beginning to feel closed in, but I stick it out, wanting to witness Bella's awe and fascination. It's priceless.
The focal point, what draws the eye right away, is the large plush rug in muted jewel tones, in the very center of the room. On one side, against the wall, sits a bright blue loveseat. Scattered on it are a few multi-colored pillows. Esme leans over and touches something on the side and it reclines. It's bordered on either side by antique wooden bookshelves and Tiffany reading lamps.
Across from this is a tiny fireplace. It doesn't have a classic mantle, but a small niche above, about four feet square and a foot deep. Bella shakes her head in wonder. "How did you do this?" Her voice is thick, and I see a single tear slip down her cheek. I give her a hug and kiss the top of her head.
Esme smiles. "It was here, Bella, just hidden under sheetrock. Carlisle refurbished it and cleaned up the facing bricks." They've been painted white, and there's white stone laid in as a hearth. "The chimney is visible from outside. Haven't you ever wondered about it?"
"I never paid any attention." Her words trail away as she gets on her knees and peers into the pristine little fireplace, with its metal grate and faint smell of ashes. I wonder if she's thinking about reading in this room, while a relaxing fire burns brightly in the tiny grate.
Esme looks around and says, "To be honest, Bella, I don't know what the designer had intended for this room. It's too small to be a dining room, even with its proximity to the kitchen. When we uncovered the fireplace, I thought maybe it had been the original living room space, but why they wouldn't have installed a larger window baffles me."
"I love it, Esme," Bella says. She bends to touch the stone floor. "I knew this would look different when it was laid down, but I didn't imagine it would be so perfect. Did your company do this?"
"Jasper did the floors in the entire house," Esme says. "I think that your choice of a large rectangle instead of a square works better in the space, since you decided to go with the same product in every room."
"And this is different," Bella says, as she points to the six-inch baseboards, stained in the same honey tone as the stairs. "They were narrower before?"
Esme nods. "They were. We had planned on stripping and reusing them, but the wood was inferior, so we decided on this type. They're maple, like the stairs." The stark juxtaposition of white, textured walls and stained baseboards and door frames lends a classy look to the rooms.
Bella turns to the new bay window that replaced the narrow rectangular one. "I've never seen a window like this that's curved out like this!" Esme radiates satisfaction as Bella admires the glass panes, which reach from the ceiling to the bench. They gently arc out, with a solid pane in the front and doubles on each side that can be opened.
It's not raining outside, and light streams into the room. Bella smiles at the prisms that shine off of my arm. Esme incorporated Bella's color scheme with the cushions, which are a blue, orange and red print. She lifts a cushion and shows us that the seat tops are hinged, and can be lifted for extra storage. The classic white, gauzy curtains hang from silver rods.
I take Bella's arm, as she's looking faint. Esme, though, has never looked happier. She beckons us to follow her into the kitchen. The simple door frame has been removed and the opening widened to three feet, with an arch.
The homely space has been updated completely. Esme says, "In our houses, even though we don't use a sink often, I like one that has two compartments. This one compliments the decorating scheme perfectly, I think."
It's hammered copper, with a towel bar on the front. The faucet is tall and arching, and Bella pulls the single bar handle to the right and places her hand under the stream of water. Esme opens a cabinet door to reveal Bella's dishes and glasses. When the door is closed, she says, "We went with long, narrow copper handles, which are a classic look against the white."
Bella runs her hands over the speckled brown and beige granite counters. Esme thinks, Is she happy, Edward? She looks completely overwhelmed.
In an aside too low for Bella to hear, I say, "She's in shock, Esme. You saw what this house looked like before. It's a big change, but trust me, she's been looking forward to this since the first day of the demo. She's thrilled. I promise."
Esme nods and takes a few steps to show us the nook she designed for the table, which is a small round item with two comfortable chairs. The cushions are a dark and light blue stripe. Bella's kitchen towels hang on the sink rod and a blue vase sits in the windowsill. It holds a single yellow rosebud, which Bella told me was her favorite flower.
The room is made brighter by the gleaming state-of-the-art appliances. The gas range and refrigerator shine in a pebble-textured white, replacing older, stainless steel models that Bella said she did not care for.
I was responsible for redoing the back hall. It's been scrubbed, repainted, and refloored. I asked Esme to fashion a space for a window, which is covered with a bright blue and white striped curtain. Bella walks into the previously shabby, dark space and stares, open mouthed, at the transformation. She gawks at the front-loading washer and dryer and appreciatively eyes the clothes rack that I added, with a clothes bar and shelves for supplies.
"I feel like I've spent half my life in this dingy room, and now it's so beautiful, laundry won't even feel like a chore. What's this here?" she says, as she points to a long, narrow door, set in the wall.
Esme pulls open the door and Bella blinks her eyes a few times. "It's a stowaway ironing board," Esme says, as she lowers it to a horizontal position. Bella smiles, her mouth open in astonishment.
"Who can I thank for this room, Esme? It's a big step up from the old one!"
My mother looks to me. Bella bites her lip and grins. "Thank you, Edward."
We walk back through the house. Esme chats as we walk up to the bathroom, which sits at the top of the stairs. "This was our most challenging and time-consuming project. We had to cut the tub in half to get it out of the doorway, and the plumbing needed to be upgraded."
Bella stops at the new door, a heavy wooden item with a crystal knob. She slowly turns to face me, and her mouth hangs open so wide, I can see her tonsils. Esme smiles at me behind Bella's back and leads her in.
It had been arranged in the typical style of bathrooms in the 1950s. A retro commode sat against one wall and a pressed-board vanity with a faux-marble sink and small mirror sat directly across. A cast iron tub covered with porcelain ran the width of the back wall, hidden by a cheap vinyl shower curtain.
It had always been clean; that was the best I could say about it.
During our consultation, Esme asked us what tub/shower arrangement we preferred. Neither of us wanted a bathtub that we'd probably never use, so she showed us some photos of enclosed showers. We chose a design and some earth-colored tile with black streaks running through it. She had her 'tile guy', as she calls him, come out and build it. Jasper stood over him the entire time, committing the process to memory.
Bella peeks behind the brown, black and beige-striped shower curtain at the inside and then steps aside so I can see it as well. I don't tell her that I was here when it was being constructed, and echo her pleasure. Esme slaps me playfully when Bella's back is turned.
To the right, in the reclaimed space, sits a new commode. A wide, whitewashed vanity with dual sinks occupies the left wall. The entire space above is taken up by a large rectangular mirror, bordered by a whitewashed picture frame. Bella's snowy towels hang from black metal rods. On the floor is a black bathroom rug.
"We took out the closet, since you'll have plenty of space in the vanity," Esme explains. She leads us into the hallway and opens the new door to the expanded linen closet. "We've used the same wire shelving units in all the closets. They're expandable and can be fashioned to take drawers or baskets." The towels and bedding are already placed on the wire shelves.
Bella sways and looks up at me with a shocked expression. Esme glances at her worriedly and says, "I think you need to sit down for a minute, honey. You're looking like you're about to fall over."
She leads Bella to her old bedroom, but as this space has changed personality more than any other, I'm not sure this is the place for Bella to regain her composure. Esme dithers on the spot as Bella collapses onto the big, squashy couch. After a moment, Bella says, "I'm all right. It's…a lot to take in." She looks up at Esme. "I mean, it almost feels like I'm an intruder in somebody else's house."
Esme looks genuinely concerned now. "Is there something that you'd like changed? We can certainly—" She glances at me, mouth open in concern. Go get her a bottle of water, Edward! I put some in the refrigerator.
I flit down, grab the water and return in a few seconds. When the bottle appears before Bella, she starts, then smiles and takes it. After a few swigs, her color comes back and she shakes her head. "No, no, it's all perfect, Esme. I never thought this house could be so totally transformed. I've never lived in a house like this before." She turns her attention to me. "This couch is lovely. Did you pick it out, Edward?" I nod, hoping she approves, and she says, a bit shakily, "I love this shade."
It's Kelly green, the color of summer grass, moss, and about everything else that grows in this area. It sits over a soft rug in a slightly paler shade. "I was worried that you wouldn't like it," I say. "I know you're not fond of green."
"It's beautiful," she assures me. She brushes hair from her face and gets a bit unsteadily to her feet. "I'm okay," she says, as she sees us regarding her with concern. She walks over to inspect the big screen TV, mounted on the opposite wall. As in the living room, a media shelf sits underneath.
I pull Bella into a hug and whisper into her ear, "I had a hard time gutting this room." I wonder if she's thinking of the nights that I climbed up the side of the house and through the window, the hours that I spent in the shabby rocker or sitting beside her in bed.
I hesitated to replace the window, as it was my first doorway to Bella. When I spoke to Esme about it, she pointed out that it was old and drafty. She was humming the entire time we discussed the window, and in confusion, I finally relented. The window guy installed the same arched window in here as in the rest of the house, with the same blinds and curtains.
Bella looks at my music and the DVDs, mostly organized. "I guess we have enough music and movies to last us for a while," she says. I cringe, thinking that she's still human, and spends one third of her existence asleep. You can go through a lot of music and movies when you're awake all night, every night.
Against the adjacent wall sits a white computer desk with a new Mac, huge monitor and sound system of its own. Next to it sits a new MacBook. On the way out, Esme stops at the closet. "We redid this for extra clothes and jackets." It has a bright green door, the same shade as the couch. Inside it's furnished with the same wire shelving system.
"I've saved the best for last," Esme says, as we walk the few steps to our bedroom. "This space has been entirely designed by Bella, and she didn't want you to see it before it was completely finished, Edward."
Bella shoots me a hopeful glance, takes a deep, shaky breath and walks in. The dated headboard, pressed-wood furniture and curtains of a weird polyester, relics from the Renee era, have been shipped off to Jacob's house, supplanted by blinding white, splashes of color, and sheer simplicity.
While nothing in the new decorating scheme could be called 'busy', this room echoes the spare quality that Bella always admired in our house in Forks. In our shared space, we don't go in for lots of pictures or knick-knacks. White walls; white blinds; white curtains, with splashes of color to add emphasis.
That's what Bella has chosen here. And it is charming.
An antique settee sits under the open window at the end of the room. Its warm, honey-colored wood and bright red and gold cushions in a broad stripe immediately draw the eye, as it is framed by white walls and gauzy curtains that hang to the floor. They billow in the breeze, looking mystical and spectral.
The attention is then drawn to a large plush rug in a vibrant hue of crimson that sits beneath the bed, a roomy queen with a black wrought iron headboard of twining leaves and vines. Esme has woven a string of twinkling white rice lights around the vines and white ribbons hang off of the bedposts.
The bed is beguiling, almost bewitching in its superficial simplicity, with its snowy white comforter, matching shams and a dusting of colorful pillows. A more complex and intricate feeling is conjured by the softly draping bed skirt, constructed of the same gauzy materials as the curtains. It barely brushes the bright scarlet rug and shivers with the breeze from the window, evoking thoughts of castles and princesses and white knights, riding to the rescue.
In this scenario, I would like to consider myself the knight, except that I can't even pretend to be chivalrous when the scarlet rug reminds me of seeping blood, leaking out from under the bed, making my mouth swim with venom.
And since I will be the instrument that ends Bella's human life, I can hardly claim to be her rescuer.
I try to dispel the image of snow-white Bella with crimson eyes, the exact color scheme of this very room. And I don't want to count down the time until the end of our cross-species romance, but I do. Bella has a little less than two hundred human days remaining to her.
Spit three times, Edward.
She turns to me. "What do you think?" she asks hesitantly.
I blink. "Ah, it's perfect, Bella. Oh, where are we going to put our clothes?" They'll never fit in the tiny closet, even though I'm sure it's been refurbished with the new wire shelf system that Esme has used in the rest of the house.
"I forgot to show you." She points to the new door and proudly opens it to reveal a walk-in closet.
I turn to look at Esme. "How did you do this?"
"When Bella asked if we could enlarge the closet, we tore down a wall and found empty space. Small closets were pretty common when the house was built. People only had a few pieces of clothing back then, so big closets weren't popular."
I take Bella's hand in mine. "Thank you, Esme. This is unbelievable." Bella nods and purses her lips, trying not to cry.
"It was our pleasure. I really enjoyed this job, and I'm so happy that you're both pleased."
We walk downstairs and out back to look at the patio. Esme shows off the new furniture, arranged in a circle around the brick fire pit, and shows us how to operate the awning that can be extended and retracted with a push of a button.
Esme leads us around the house and we admire the new shutters. "We'll paint the outside as soon as Alice wakes up," Esme says again. "Be thinking about what color you'd like."
Esme hugs us both and Bella stammers out her thanks again, then blushes red as a beet. As we watch her drive away, I sincerely hope that she has another project lined up. Her thoughts are still very bleak.
I walk Esme out to her car and come back inside to find Bella sitting in the bay window in her new sitting room. "What do you think? Is everything okay?"
She turns her face slowly toward mine. "I could never have imagined that this house could be so transformed. It's beautiful. And it's ours."
"What's your favorite part?" I ask.
"Hmm. You have to guess."
I think for a moment. "Um, this room. A place to curl up and read in front of a fireplace, with light from a big window."
"Yeah. Absolutely. I love a fireplace. What's your favorite thing?"
"Seeing the look on your face," I say seriously. "Because you love it, and that was exactly what Esme needed."
Bella continues to look out of the window, and I see her gaze trained on her truck, sitting idle along the front curb. The two Volvos are parked one in front of the other on the single paved drive. She swallows. "My truck deserves more than to be an ornament," she says thickly.
I hold her, wordless, and let her speak. Her truck is a treasured gift, a symbol, I think, of beginning her life here. After a few moments of silence, she says, "I've decided to give it back to Jacob." She nods slowly, as if convincing herself this is a good idea.
Her warm human scent washes over me like a tidal wave. Somehow, the emotion of wistful grief has an enticing, almost painful smell. Still I say nothing. She turns to face me and says, "I'm going to call him, tell him to come and get it."
"Would it be easier to part with it if we delivered it? You know, pull it up in front of his house and say goodbye that way? It would be like it was coming home." Our eyes meet and hers fill with unshed tears.
What is she thinking? Perhaps of her first days here? The enigmatic beginnings of our own story? I'll never know. Bella nods. "Call him and make sure he's home, okay? I don't want to abandon it without Jacob there."
And then she takes my hand and brings it to her warm lips. Everything smells so new and Bella's face is shining with…hopes for the future? I don't know. But her heartbeat is slow and steady. She's not afraid or tense.
And I am overcome, yet again, with love for this woman.