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The Journals
By: Everleigh Allen
Chapter 4
*Dedicated in memory of my friend, our friend, and everyone's granma Dee Creston*
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Bella stared at the journal for a moment and the swinging kitchen door before she opened it to a random page.
It didn't seem to be the same journal she was reading before, but from what she could tell there were many shelved that looked similar.
This one skipped through months of potential entries and landed on the year 1920, in Columbus, Ohio.
Bella was curious to why they weren't in Chicago anymore but she figured she'd see where this entry took her.
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1920
Columbus, Ohio
Should I be surprised in the alternative motives of others?
Or should I say, should I be surprised of the alternative motives of others when it comes to Carlisle Cullen?
Imagine my surprise when I found out that Carlisle has a home here in Columbus already and we moved right in during the night as if we've always been here.
The home is beautiful and well-kept, of course. His sensitivity for early colonial roots run strong however his loyalty to the crown still resides in the Queen Anne style home built in 1889.
The impressive custom build home is two stories high with walls of thick red brick. There are large square stones that are intricately carved with scenes barely visible from the street. They border and accent the steeple roof and tall chimneys. It's unlike any other on the street and shows off its opulent grandeur.
The home is also exquisite inside with complicated sculpted wood banisters and accents that is lovingly polished to shine. Marble floors are covered in expensive imported rugs and lush furniture from every possible era since his birth. It's an eclectic array of comfort and wealth.
"Walk with me?" Carlisle asks as he stands in the parlor. I nod, knowing that there's nothing better to do to occupy our time.
We've read the all books here already and the newspaper three times.
But as we pass down the street in the twilight hour, he greets our new neighbors firmly as the new doctor in town to keep any rumors at bay. They cordially accept our information as truth though they keep their respectful distance with a polite welcome.
Except for one.
The mature woman sits in among the roses in her front garden and sips tea. Her smile is light and she watches Carlisle with bright knowing eyes. But I can see the signs of a healing bruise along her cheek.
I know Carlisle can see them, too.
Instantly, I'm curious.
Who is this woman and how does she know Carlisle?
I look into her mind.
She's thinking of Carlisle kindly and in gratitude. She pays little to no attention that he hasn't matured, even though she notices and I can see that she's been under his knife a few times at a much younger age. She's grateful he saved her, but wonders if she was worth saving, after all. Images of her husband filter though her mind at once and I'm assaulted at the severity of the violence and abuse at his hand and how frequently in which it comes.
Her mind goes to the whisky, instantly.
Her mind drifts to her teenage niece and a tree, a broken leg, and then to Carlisle again. He treats the girl and plasters her leg.
Then, Carlisle makes himself move away.
It takes everything in him to leave her.
My eyes meet Carlisle's and he shrugs.
He barely introduces us and we part ways before I can speak up. When I look back she already retreated back inside but I can still see her thoughts. She's remembering her niece, the girl that had the broken leg. This time she's older, married, and running away with a pocket of money that her aunt managed to hide from her husband. She gave it to her daughter to give to Esme.
I know what he's thinking instantly.
He won't be upset if something were to happen to that woman's husband someday.
It was why she had an injury to her face.
"Her husband hit her because she gave the younger woman money to run."
Carlisle gave a small nod. "Wisconsin?"
I nodded, but it didn't matter.
He already knew.
Knowing Carlisle he probably had her watched a time or two before we arrived.
"How long will we be here?" I asked, concentrating on the husband's face through her mind and Carlisle's on the inside while on the outside I concentrate on the sidewalk.
"Not long."
"Why is that?"
"She's no longer here."
"Who?"
"My mate."
Images of the girl with the broken leg run through her mind.
I gave a curt nod as we made our way down the street and back to the house.
Nothing else needed to be said.
Esme Anne Platt Evenson.
Her aunt, unaccompanied in the garden, gave Carlisle the information without even asking.
Esme was no longer there.
Neither was her husband.
The several days later, a package arrived on the porch addressed to Esme's Aunt's husband.
He opened it curiously but all he saw was a figurine of a pig. He thought it odd and ugly and set it on the writing desk before walking away, not giving it another thought.
"She saw the pig and smiled." I tell Carlisle as we sit in the library. His grin mirrors the woman's, "She picked it up and stowed it away in a private, hidden cabinet. I'm confused."
"Keep watching."
So I do. The nameless woman waits until her husband pours himself two fingers of whisky and settles into his chair before she reopens the cabinet and takes out the pig.
She carefully, as quietly as she can, cracks the pig in half as if it was an egg and pieces of the porcelain fall into the bowl she carefully lined with fabric to buffer the sound. Coins and bills fall into the bowl and the woman grinned widely as if she did a thousand times before as a child; in wondrous glee.
Ignoring the money for now, she picks up the folded enveloped note that fell out with the coins and opened it.
I looked at Carlisle and he's grinning widely, knowingly, and explains. "It wasn't uncommon to give the kids at the hospital these fun trinkets. I believe she remembers the one I gave Esme and knew it held treasure."
"Why give it to the husband?"
"Because it's proper to do so, Edward," Carlisle grumbled. "And if I sent it to her it would've created unnecessary conflict. She knew it was for her upon seeing it and he won't notice the difference. He may see it in the bin broken and not give it another thought. Had he been more perceptive, he would've noticed the plug at the bottom."
"So you had these made for the children at the hospital or for a specific child?"
Carlisle grinned and shrugged, clearly caught.
"So you gave her money and what else?"
"You know me too well, son." Carlisle laughed brightly. "I am surprised you didn't pull it out of my mind."
"I would've but you're practicing blocking me and wanted to give you the chance."
"Perhaps you'll thank me later for that."
I shook my head seeing an array of improper thoughts instantly move through his mind of him and Esme but in his visions she's older.
He's obviously been back to visit her since she's matured.
"What else did you give Esme's Aunt?"
"There's some land and a homestead I own in Clallam County, Washington. She's got a copy of the deed there with her name on it that is valid until she passes. It then goes back into the trust." Carlisle shrugged. "By then, if we want to move back there, we can."
"You do this often with your properties?"
Carlisle looked at me with a bit of impatience. "I do if and when the occasion arises. The occupants have a safe place to live in peace, it keeps the neighbors unaware, and the homes occupied. By the time we'd come back to those homes, those who would remember us would've passed and the newer generations wouldn't know better."
"That's a gracious thing to do."
Carlisle gives a small grin and nods. "It's the only thing I can do sometimes."
"And Esme?"
"We'll see when we get to Wisconsin."
-EAMC
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"Edward." Bella smiled as she brushed her finger over the ink of EAMC's name if it was a caress.
She finally had a name for EAMC.
A swift gust of air brushed around Bella, fluttering the pages of the journal and ruffling her hair. She giggled. "Hello to you, too, Edward."
Alice appeared instantly, looking at the door of the kitchen that was swinging until it stilled. She then turned to Bella with a knowing smile. "You're bed is ready. Follow me."
Bella got up as Alice was opening another door Bella hadn't noticed before. It was old and the wood was painted white.
Alice stilled in the doorway and turned to look at Bella. "Don't forget the journal." She grinned. "You wouldn't want it to have to suddenly appear on the bed-" Alice's eyes got hazy for a moment as she looked just to the side of Bella. She grinned wider. "On second thought, leave it there and ask him to bring a journal to you again."
"Wait…" But then Bella understood. She put down the journal on the table with a grin and followed Alice. "Okay, show me to my room. I'm so excited!"
"You say that now."
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A/N:
It's Bella's bedtime. *snickers*
I wonder if E will watch her sleep?
It's going to be moving forward more often once we snatch up Esme in The Journals. Also, I know Edward is said to have killed Esme's husband in 1928 when he goes nomad and that he's E's first victim but not in this story as it doesn't fit.
Anyway, sorry this was late. This has been quite an adventurous, dramatic week with the 'pandemic.' I'm hopeful you all are able to be safe and well and this story is a bit of an escape for a few minutes.
This week, March 15th, 2020, we also lost a beloved friend and member of our fandom, Dee Creston aka FangirlinGranmaDee. My heart goes out to her, her family, friends, and those who love her. I know it hit me hard. She was reading and reviewing this story and so many others with such light, care, and beautiful encouragement in each review. She will truly be missed. I hope she can continue to feel how much she was loved and appreciated. As Dee would say, "GAINT GRANMA HUGS AND SMOOCHES" to all of you! Be well.
See you next week and thank you for reading!