Nessie settled into the chair at the counter, leaning on her elbows. She had completely lost interest in her cookie making, and was now absorbed into the prospect of learning something about my past. Picking up the forgotten ingredients, I continued to mix the dough while I talked.
"As the years pass through immortality, your memories of your human life slowly fade and soon become forgotten. There are only a few memories I remember of Miranda. They are the ones I would constantly remind myself of when I first changed, and revisited over the years in particular difficult situations. These memories that I will tell you are not all pleasant, but integral for you to understand what I have faced in my years."
Nessie stayed silent, even through her thoughts I was not picking up any reactions.
"One of the more pleasant memories I remember was the way she smelled. Even before I was a vampire, she had a distinct scent around her. I believed it was from all the time she spent at the bakery, but she always smelled like baker's chocolate. It has a stronger cocoa scent than these chocolate chips, not as sweet." Slipping back into my memories, I felt like I was suddenly back in Chicago, instead of standing in our kitchen in Forks, Washington.
The streets were busy that day as I stepped out of my father's office. It was a beautiful spring day out, the winter frost had finally lifted. Working on a particular difficult case, my father's stress was starting to get to him. Nothing worked better for stress than one of Miranda's cookies. The scent of chocolate assaulted my senses as soon as I stepped inside the bakery. As always, Miranda was stationed behind the counter and looked up as the bells on the door signaled my arrival.
"Good afternoon, Edward." Flashing me a brilliant smile, she held out her hand to me. I took it in mine, and kissed the skin tenderly. Her features were soft like Esme's, but her hair was the dark brown of Bella's. She had bright blue eyes, which sparkled whenever she was in a good mood. Brightening days with smiles and chocolate was her self-proclaimed calling in life.
"Good afternoon, darling Miranda." I smiled crookedly back.
Mom's favorite smile? Nessie thought, interrupting my story. I looked down at her, and realized that I had the dough completely mixed already, going through the motions unconsciously. It was amazing what the body could remember to do. Losing myself completely in the memories was easier than I had imagined. I set the bowl down and started onto the next step.
"Yes, it's the only way I know how to smile." I laughed, pulling the cookie trays out to start baking. Nessie snuck a spoonful of raw dough, hiding it in her mouth quickly.
Was she like Mom?
"Nothing like your mother. Your mother was much stronger of a human than Miranda was. Your mother outshines Miranda is every way. Miranda was very reliant on others. The only thing they had in common was their hair color, and the way that they had warmed my cold heart."
"You don't have a cold heart." Nessie said firmly, believing if she said it aloud meant it was true.
"Back to the story."
In the little bakery in Chicago, Miranda was trusted to be by herself for the evening, something that typically did not occur for her. Her parents knew I would not let anything happen to her, and being right next door meant she could not get into much trouble. Her father was tracking down leads on a cheaper supplier for cocoa and sugar. Since it was wartime, commodities prices skyrocketed and were putting small bakeries and confectioners out of business.
"What can I help you with love? Your chocolate ration for the day?" She giggled. It was not acceptable for an unmarried man and woman to be left alone. I kept the counter between us, to curb both of our temptations. Soon enough, we would be engaged, and then married, but not until after the war.
"No, not for me today. My father is in need of one of your chocolate cookies."
"Is that case still going on?" She asked, reaching below the counter for the biggest cookie she could find. She was always a kind girl, worried about others but not as selfless as Bella.
"Yes, hopefully it will be resolved quickly." I took the cookie she handed me, and let my fingers linger against hers. "Are your parents going to be home tonight?"
"I have not heard from them yet. If all goes well with the supplier they should be."
"Well, I would like to invite you to have dinner with my family. My mother would be ashamed if I let you eat by yourself."
"That sounds wonderful." She gushed. Through our courtship, she had only been over to my house once. Typically, I came over to her family's small apartment above the bakery. They had a small piano that I would serenade her with.
"I will escort you there when you close the bakery."
"How should I dress?" She was worried. Her family was not as well off as mine, and she wanted my family's approval. If I had lived in any other family, our courtship would be looked as a waste of time, by marrying in a lower class. My happiness came first to my parents. And my happiness was found in Miranda's sparkling eyes.
"Whatever you wear, I'm sure you'll look perfect in."
The memory faded here, and did not pick up again until I walked into the bakery that evening, ignoring the closed sign hanging on the door.
"We're closed," I heard her tiny voice shout from the back room.
"It's Edward, darling." I called back, following the trail of her voice to the kitchen area. Pushing the door aside, I took in the beautiful sight in front of me. Miranda was clad in a simple dress, with her hair pulled into a makeshift updo. Her classic girl-next-door beauty made every simple task extraordinary. But that could have just been my love for her blinding everything. She was whistling while she frosted a three layer cake. No doubt from the aroma wafting the air that it was triple chocolate.
"How do I look? This was the only dress I could find that wasn't stained or threadbare." She told me, pulling at the hems of the dress.
"You look perfect. You could wear your flour dusted apron and I would still love you the same." Walking towards her, I took her hand in mine and spun her once. She giggled, and pulled a cake box out from under the counter.
"Is it alright that I'm bringing a cake? I hate going somewhere empty handed."
"You do not need to feel obligated to bring something, but I'm sure my father will appreciate it. He does love your cakes after all." I helped her into her jacket, and then took the cake box from her. Walking the few blocks to my house, we chatted like young lovers forgetting all the problems in the world. Outside of us, nothing else mattered.
Miranda was very quiet during dinner, only listening to the conversations between my parents and me. She would interject her opinion only when asked. I could sense she was uncomfortable, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She wasn't as educated as I was, her place in her family was to help at the bakery instead of going to school.
"Miranda," my mother addressed her sweetly, "would you help me with the dessert and coffee. We can relax in the den." Miranda nodded quickly. My father and I stood up as the women left the room. I reached for Miranda's hand as she walked by, squeezing it.
"She's a bit of a timid girl," my father commented, leading me into the den. Even though he made comments, he approved of our courtship.
"She's just a little uncomfortable, not really sure how she's expected to act around us. Our lifestyles are quite different." I sat down at the piano, knowing that this would soothe her. She loved when I played her song for her. Hearing her light hearted laugh flow from the kitchen, the song streamed through my finger tips and danced along the keys.
"Oh," I heard her surprised little voice, "he's playing my song." Miranda and my mother entered the room, carrying trays of cake and coffee cups. My mother sat beside my father, and watched as Miranda took a seat on the piano bench next to me.
"I thought you would enjoy a little music." I whispered, nudging her with my shoulder playfully.
"You always know what I'm thinking." She laughed, laying her head against my shoulder.
"Dear Miranda, would you grace me with a dance?" My father asked, holding out his hand for her. She giggled and complied, letting him spin her around the room. Watching them twirl and laugh, my mother took Miranda's place on the bench.
"She's just lovely." My mother gushed, patting her hand on my knee. "When are you going to get engaged? This courtship has gone on for so long."
"I was planning on asking her father for his blessing when he comes back. I want to get married after the war ends." I whispered, watching Miranda carefully. Hopefully the battles would not continue much longer.
After the dance ended, I realized that it was far too late for a young woman to be out. I walked her back to the bakery, pleased that she had enjoyed herself.
"Edward, what are we going to do when you are drafted?" She whispered, wrapping herself tighter around my arm. The draft age was just lowered to 18, which I would be in less than a year.
"When I am drafted, we will win the war quickly, and I will come back and we will be married. I'll go to university, and you will open your own bakery, and bless the world with your wonderful cookies." I said sweetly to her.
"What if something happens to you?"
Pressing my finger against her lips, I soothed her into silence. We were standing in front of the bakery now. Upstairs, the lights signaled her parents were home.
"I won't die as long as the love of my life is still out there. Now let's go upstairs so I can say goodnight to your family."
I turned to Nessie, who was still enthralled with my story. "Little did I know that the love of my life wasn't born yet." I patted her hand, and put the first batch of cookies in the oven. They would only need to bake for ten minutes, so I set a timer to drag me out of my memories.
"On my way home, I started to feel feverish. I had gotten the flu. My parents and I were quickly put into the hospital where your grandfather was working."
And that's where he changed you.
"Yes."
But what happened to Miranda?
"I was about to get to that part. Both of her parents died of the flu as well, but she miraculously survived. After the newborn instincts calmed down, and I could finally have control of myself around humans, I decided I was going to see her. I needed to know what had happened to her. Carlisle and I were in the city where he would soon meet Esme for the second time. Carlisle tried to stop me, but the not knowing if she was alive or not was unbearable."