CPOV

"Is anyone watching?" Esme whispered.

"Wait a moment," I whispered back as we walked slowly down Broad Street. One of the nice things about big cities these days was that it was perfectly normal for a young couple to wander about at three in the morning on a Saturday night. Esme and I had caught the late-night showing of Khartoum at the Cinerama and then browsed downtown a bit watching the drunk co-eds before deciding to visit someplace quieter and more aesthetically pleasing.

The car down the street turned the corner. I looked behind me, no one was there either. "Now!"

Esme and I lithely jumped the fence and ran behind the nearest building.

"If I had known we were going to play Bond I would have worn darker clothes," Esme giggled.

"And what secret messages about the imminent destruction of the world do you hope to find here in the Olympic Sculpture Park?" I asked with mock seriousness.

"These sculptures have a lot of secret messages," Esme insisted. "You just have to open your mind and let them speak to you."

"Right." I didn't think I would ever learn how to appreciate art the way Esme did, but I would indulge her enthusiasm for it until the end of time. "So that stainless steel tree over there, what is it saying to us tonight?"

"What do you think, Carlisle?" Esme asked with a smirk.

I sighed. "Well, Professor Cullen," I teased, "I would have to say that it is lifeless metal masquerading as a living tree."

"Yes, and what does that mean?" Esme prodded.

I stared at her blankly. "Is it acceptable if I say that I have no idea?"

"Come now, Carlisle, you're a doctor. What does it mean?"

"I suppose that I replace living things with lifeless metal in humans a lot. Artificial joints, hip replacements, even artificial hearts," I said slowly.

"Exactly," Esme said, beaming up at me.

I looked at the metal tree again. "I still don't think I see the connection, or the point."

Esme shook her head. "Just think about it."

I laughed and took her hand, walking down the path through the park. We stopped in front of a megalith at the fork of the path. "And what, pray tell, does this piece tell us?"

"I believe this piece is called Persephone Unbound."

"Ah, and what would the Queen of the Dead have to say to us tonight?"

"Well, since she is unbound I'd say it is speaking a message of renewal and rebirth. Spring."

"I see," I said as thoughtfully as I could muster. I could see something resembling a goddess form which looked like it was struggling to emerge from the rock.

Esme looked at me suspiciously. "Let's go try an easier piece," she suggested, leading me up the path again.

"This one," Esme declared, gesturing at the curving steel walls around us, "is called Wake."

"Wake? Like a wake of water?"

Esme gave me exasperated look. "What do you think, Carlisle?"

I looked at the metal walls. I supposed they could look like undulating water. "I think they look like a wake of water."

Esme sighed. "Well, that's a good start."

"I'm sorry, Esme," I said, putting my arms around her. "Today is not the day when I will understand this it seems."

"No, I suppose not," Esme said grudgingly.

"Why don't you enjoy looking at the sculptures, and I'll just enjoy watching you look at the sculptures?" I suggested with a smile.

"Oh, fine. But one day, Carlisle, you will understand," she said, tapping my chest with her finger.

I was quite uncertain about that, but I followed Esme quietly as she darted to each sculpture, circling each one studiously before making some kind of mental note about it, and then running to the next one.

Esme finally stopped inside a piece which made an open ended square. "Are you enjoying yourself, Carlisle?"

"I always enjoy being with you, Esme," I said truthfully. I could watch her enjoy this park for hours.

"Really?" Esme said, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"Yes. And what is the name of this rather geometric piece of art?" I inquired, trying to draw her attention back to our present surroundings.

"It's called the Stinger. See, it comes around," she said, motioning with her finger, "and then it comes up and stings you in the ass." She pinched me there with a wicked smile.

"Stop it," I growled.

"Mmm," Esme hummed, putting her arms around me and rubbing her body against mine as she stretched up to give me a kiss. "I don't want to."

It would be so easy to give in to her, but I didn't want to be intimate with her in a public park like a hormonal teenager. "Esme, we're both incredibly strong and we're standing in the middle of a very expensive piece of art," I reminded her.

"Oh, I know," Esme grumbled, turning to walk down the path some more, "but someone said something earlier about visiting my bed tonight."

I frowned. "Yes, but Edward is in our suite tonight." I knew Edward tried to give us as much privacy as he could, but the close-quarters of the suite were a bit more intimate than I was comfortable with. Usually on trips like these Edward would be the one walking the streets of the city at night.

"Yes, but Edward's not alone in his bed tonight," Esme reminded, grinning widely.

I suppressed a groan. I wasn't sure if that fact should make me more or less uncomfortable.

"It's so good to see Edward be so happy," Esme continued. "And so romantic! Did you see the way he kissed Bella's hand at dinner? It was so sweet."

"Yes." It was nice to see Edward acting as a gentleman, romantically courting a girl. And yet...

"What's wrong?" Esme asked.

"I don't know how it can work out," I said with a discontented sigh. "This is so difficult for him, and full of so many doubts and regrets. I do like Bella, I do. I just wish he could have fallen in love with someone easier."

"Like Tanya?" Esme asked suspiciously, stopping in front of the next sculpture.

"For example." I looked at the sculpture we had stopped at. A young nude boy was standing on a pedestal in a pool of water, reaching his arms up towards the cylindrical fountain of water across from him.

"Poor girl," Esme giggled. "Edward never even gave her a chance now did he?"

"No, he didn't. And it would have been so much easier for him to be with Tanya."

I remembered running across the rough Alaskan beauty at dawn with Edward. "Tanya has shown interest in you?" I had asked.

"Yes, she has."

"That's wonderful, but I'll miss you terribly."

Edward stopped. "What are you talking about Carlisle?"

"Tanya leads the coven here, you would have to stay here with her when we go. And as her consort she may put you second-in-command."

Edward's eyebrows pulled together and he shook his head. "Carlisle, I turned Tanya down."

"Why, Edward? She would be perfect."

"You mean she is a pretty, single, vampire female who also hunts animals."

"I am not that superficial, Edward. I also happen to think that Tanya is very nice and I already consider her and her sisters to be as good as family."

"Well, that's a relief," Edward said, rolling his eyes.

"You don't want her, do you?"

"No. I'm sorry."

And that was the end of that.

"Yes, and she's only ten times older than Edward who works in a profession which is as old as vegetable farming," Esme was saying.

"You're the hopeless romantic," I teased. "Don't tell me you think trivial things such as age and occupation should stand in the way of true love?"

"Carlisle, you know Edward. Do you really think he and Tanya would be right for each other?"

"No, I guess not," I admitted. "But how often do we come across single vampire women who aren't complete savages? You were hoping he would find a mate from among them as well."

"Yes, I did. But none of them was who he wanted."

"I know, but I wasn't expecting Bella to be his choice."

"Why does that surprise you so much?"

"I don't know."

Esme sniffed. "Well I know why."

"You do?"

"You picture Edward's mate as blond," Esme stated.

"I do?"

Esme raised her eyebrows. "Rosalie? Tanya? Admit it Carlisle, when you picture Edward with a girl you always picture her as being blond."

"Honestly, I never really thought about it that way." I didn't have a "thing" for blonds as it was called these days, of that I was certain. I didn't know what Esme was trying to get at.

"I wonder what Freud would say about that," Esme mused.

"What does Freud have to do with this?"

Esme gave an exasperated sigh. "You're blond, Carlisle."

What was that supposed to mean? "Seriously Esme, do you think I'm so attached to Edward that I've developed some sort of anti-Oedipal complex?"

Esme grimaced. "If that was so it would be quite disturbing. No, I think it is far simpler. You want Edward to marry your own daughter."

I stared down at her incredulously. "I do?"

"Carlisle," Esme said earnestly, "you want Edward to be your son, but there is a part of you which realizes that he can never actually be that. If Edward was to marry your daughter then everything would be solved. He would be connected to you, not just by venom or choice, but as family."

I wanted to deny everything Esme said, it was complicated and silly. I had never thought of either Rosalie or Tanya as my daughters before I pictured them with Edward, had I? Yet, I remembered the words Edward spoke seventy-eight years ago after we came home from the concert in Duluth, "My father is dead and I'm not your son. Get off my back, Carlisle." His rejection had wounded me deeply. Was I still trying to make up for it?

"I don't have a daughter, Esme," I said, trying to deny this psychoanalytic scheme she had cooked up.

"But if you did, what would she look like?"

"I don't think I've ever thought about that, not even as a human," I said softly. Thinking about such things would only bring the pain of unrealized happiness.

"Picture it, Carlisle. Picture your daughter. What would she look like?" Esme insisted.

I closed my eyes tightly. I really did not want to do that.

"Just do it, Carlisle, and tell me what she looks like."

I allowed my mind to do what she asked and suddenly the image of my daughter appeared fully formed, like a photograph in a picture album, just waiting for me to turn the page and look at her. "She's so beautiful," I whispered.

"And is she blond?" Esme asked softly.

I took a deep breath and looked away. Esme might be right. The water in the sculpture in front of us was changing and I realized that the statue of the boy was not raising his arms to a fountain of water. Inside the fountain was another statue, this one of a man, also nude, reaching his arms down to the boy. As the fountain surrounding the man lowered, another fountain of water raised up around the boy, obscuring him from view. I wasn't sure what this piece of art was supposed to be saying to me, but I didn't like it.

Esme put her arms around me and leaned on my chest. "Edward's not going to turn his back on you just because he chooses to be with a girl who is not your daughter."

"I know," I whispered.

"Okay, just keep on remembering that."

I put my cheek on the top of Esme's head and sighed. "How do you know these things about me?"

"Because I know you, Carlisle, and I know that you worry too much."

"Do you really think so?"

"Let me say that again." Esme lifted her head to look me in the eyes. "You worry too much about Edward."

I smiled and tapped her nose gently with my finger. "I recall that you also worry quite a bit about Edward."

"No, I worried that Edward would never feel the desires of romantic love and physical intimacy. Based upon what I saw today, I can honestly say that I don't need to worry about Edward anymore."

"Yes, and that's why I worry about Edward," I insisted, leading Esme down the path again, away from the sculpture which was disturbing me.

"And I think you're being silly."

"Esme, she is human. She can easily break Edward's heart, and all those desires of love and intimacy which you are happy to see now will only serve to destroy him then."

"I think you're underestimating Bella," Esme said bluntly.

I shook my head in disagreement. "Esme-" I began.

"No, listen to me. If Edward is your Bassanio then Bella is his Portia. She is constant and loyal and smart. I trust her to take care of Edward's heart, and so should you."

"Actually, if I remember my Shakespeare correctly, in this analogy Bella would actually prevent my heart from being cut out by a revengeful Jew."

"See, not only is she good for Edward, she'll be good for you as well," Esme said with a smile.

I rolled my eyes. "I think you're taking your literary interpretation a bit too far."

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath: it is twice blest," Esme quoted, running her hand down the side of my face.

"So you think Bella will give me my life and living?" I quoted back.

"Yes."

I groaned. "You're hopeless."

"You'll see Carlisle, one day."

"Are you a fortune-teller now? I don't know how I feel about having two fortune-tellers in the family."

"There are some things Alice can not see, you know that."

"And you can? You can see things about Edward which Alice can't?"

"I'm his mother. I know him in ways others can not. Ways which fall outside Alice's sight."

I sighed. It sounded more like wishful thinking to me. But I wouldn't tell Esme that.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

I frowned. Not only was Esme pretending to be a fortune-teller, she was now a mind reader as well. "I'm still worried. I'm sorry."

"Okay. Just remember. No matter what happens in the future, I'm here for you," Esme said, leading me to a bench and sitting down.

I sat next to her and put my arms around her, holding her tightly against my chest. "I know, Esme. Thank you."

I looked around and realized we had come to the last piece of art on this path. This sculpture looked like scattered bits of geometry, like the leftovers of a three-dimensional algebra equation.

"Schubert again," Esme said softly. "I wish he would leave us alone."

"Yes, I wish so as well. I hate being reminded of that night in Duluth."

"That too. But I was actually referring to the sculpture."

"Come again?" I asked, confused.

"That sculpture down there," Esme explained, pointing down the path, "is called Schubert Sonata."

I looked at what she was referring to. It looked like another metal tree, except instead of reaching for the sky like the first one its branches twisted out and around like a magnificent Adansonia grandidieri.

"It's supposed to represent music?" I asked doubtfully.

"Yes, the curves and twists indicate the vibrations of the music." Esme shook her head. "It's just so ironic that we would be sitting here looking at that."

"Here?" I asked. I was still confused.

"Yes. Do you know what this piece here says?"

"No, I can't say that I do." I had a feeling that this sculpture wasn't actually referring to trigonometry rejects.

Esme sighed. "It tells you what it says," she said rather impatiently.

"It does?"

"Stand up and look at it."

I stood up and looked at the sculpture more closely. I could see now that the shapes were letters, but they didn't seem to make any sense.

"I see letters, but I don't see any meaning in them."

"I'm sitting on the letter 'L,' Carlisle," Esme nearly growled.

Oh. I looked again, and felt my chest ache once more. Now I understood. "Love and loss," I whispered.

"Yes. Love & Loss is the name of this piece. It shows the place where love and loss intersect," Esme said quietly.

I stared at the letters for a long moment. It felt strange to have my deepest emotions and darkest fears spelled out so plainly before me, exposed to everyone who came to this place.

"You're worried too," I said to Esme softly.

"A little," Esme admitted, getting up off the letter 'L' and putting her hand on my elbow. "I believe that Edward and Bella will eventually come to a place of security and happiness together. But how many more trials and tribulations they'll need to go through until they get there," she shook her head, "I worry about that."

"But you're confident they'll get a happy ending?"

I felt Esme fall completely still beside me. "We got a happy ending," she said very quietly.

I turned and cupped her face in both of my hands. I knew Esme never blamed me for the fact that I had disappeared soon after meeting her for the first time as a precocious teenager in Columbus, leaving her to be beaten and abused in a loveless marriage, but that didn't mean I wished I had done something to prevent it. "Yes, I suppose we did."

I sighed and dropped my hands. "But Esme, Edward is already more involved with Bella than I was with you, much more. When I left Columbus and you behind I could still exist without you. Edward, though..." I shook my head.

"Does it matter?" Esme asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Does it matter that Edward is so involved?"

I frowned. Was Esme intentionally trying to be obtuse tonight? "I don't understand what you mean."

Esme put her hands on my chest and took a deep breath. "Carlisle, if you hadn't found me in that morgue, would you have eventually married someone else?"

I pulled back from her in shock. "Why are you asking me this, Esme?"

Esme crossed her arms. "Just answer me, Carlisle. Would you have eventually found someone else?"

I turned around and looked out over the Bay. Now, of course, I could never imagine being with anyone but Esme. She made up one half of my existence, she was a part of my soul. But back when she was a mere memory of delicate teenage girl, could I have found love with someone else?

"I don't know Esme," I said quietly. "I honestly tried to put you out of my mind, though you had certainly made quite an impression on me. And then I was busy with Edward in his newborn years and I had to learn to be careful with my thoughts. I have to admit that I did not think of you often."

"But when you saw me in the morgue, what did you think?"

I paused, turning around to look at her again. "When I saw you in the morgue, I thought that you had come back to me."

"So you already felt a connection to me?"

"Yes, I suppose I did."

"And likewise with Edward. I think he became connected to Bella the first time he saw her in Forks High School."

I thought back to that day and saw Edward's pained face as he shamefully admitted that he had nearly lost control, and then him running, running as far away from temptation as he could. "Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully.

"Obviously he had more urgent matters to deal with that day, but yes."

I recalled asking Edward why he had come back to Forks after his escape to Alaska. It seemed irresponsible for him to take the chance that Bella's scent would overwhelm his self-control. Edward acknowledged the irresponsibility, but said he couldn't stay away. He hadn't been able to explain why he came back then, but if Esme was right his action made perfect sense. "I see."

Esme stepped forward and put her hands on my shoulders. "Carlisle, I realize that the future looks scary, but Edward's way may just be better than your way."

I put my hands on her waist. "Better for Bella, you mean?" I asked softly.

Esme grimaced. "That, too."

"Esme, what happened to you in your human marriage wasn't normal. There's every possibility that Bella could have a very happy and fulfilling human marriage in the future."

Esme frowned. "But Edward is who she wants."

"Yes, for now. But what will happen when she grows older, and wants a career and children and a normal human life?"

"She wouldn't," Esme breathed, her face crumpling in sadness.

"It's very likely that she will, Esme," I insisted.

"No, I mean she wouldn't exclude Edward even if he becomes inconvenient."

"That's what humans do."

"Not Bella," Esme said shaking her head.

"I'm sorry if I'm not so certain."

"Yes, well, I am the hopeless romantic. Little things like age and occupation don't stand in the way of true love," Esme insisted.

"True love?" I asked. "The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love," I quoted.

"I know," Esme whispered. "You'll have to be there for Edward, be strong for him when the evil angel tries to break him. He'll need you then, more than he's ever needed you before."

I rested my cheek on the top of her head and closed my eyes. I was certain Bella had no idea that her arrival had created so much uncertainty. I could not stop the way she had caused our calm waters to ripple, but I would help Edward deal with the waves.

I sighed and kissed the top of Esme's head. "Shall we retire for the night? I would enjoy at least laying next to you for a few hours."

"Yes, please," Esme agreed, taking my hand and leading me back to the hotel.


A/N: The Olympic Sculpture Park does have all the pieces of art mentioned. Pictures are available online if you want to understand the meaning of each piece better than Carlisle! You can find the link on my profile.

An Adansonia grandidieri is a fantastic tree native to Madagascar. The giant tree in the movie Madagascar was one of these.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath: it is twice blest. This is a line by Portia in Merchant of Venice Act IV, Scene 1.

When Carlisle says, "So you think Bella will give me my life and living?" he is playing off a line in Merchant of Venice Act V, Scene 1 where Antonio says to Portia, Sweet lady, you have given me life and living; For here I read for certain that my ships are safely come to road.

The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love. This quote is actually an amalgamation of Midsummer Night's Dream Act I, Scene 1 and Love Labor's Lost Act I, Scene 2. I figured Carlisle knows them both pretty well with his photographic memory and could put them together.