Chapter 21: Rarities
Apologies, that this story is taking so long to update. Part of the delay is because of my reluctance to give away upcoming secrets pertaining to 'I Hunger', which is in the same canon as this story, but commences four and a half years earlier.
Thank you to jvcoleman, who caught a discrepancy that I missed. Yay for you! I fixed it, and I'm not telling anybody what it was. Only those of you with photographic memories are going to be disturbed. LOL
Okay, my lovelies. Help? Please?
I have a core group of wonderful people who review, pm, favourite, and generally give me their love. And I'm grateful. I have responded to every single signed review and pm, and I plan to continue to do so. My readers are a blessing to me.
Some people have reviewed every single chapter I have published. That's... 120 chapters as of 5/27/10. Yes, I do notice:) Some day, when you are least expecting it, you will get a special reward. Because I value your dedication. Thank you.
Tuesday, 5/25/10, my stats report that not one person read a single one of my stories on ffnet. In eight months, that has never happened.
So, being a sappy date, who craves her daily fix of praise, I am begging for two things: First, if you don't do this regularly, will you do something this week to tell me you're hanging with me? Review, favourite, recommend, pimp, pm, nominate, do something to help me add to my audience. I love my audience. I wish I could sit you all down in a room and read aloud to you. Trust me I do not take a single one of you for granted. However, the more the merrier.
Second, if anybody has time and talent, I would be tickled to death if you would make me a banner or start up a thread/community (except I don't have time to Twitter). You know I love to get to know my readers, and if you put in the effort, I will be there. Often.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Music belongs to its rightful owners. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is unintentional. Antiquated political and social views belong to antiquated characters (who have incidentally, outgrown them), and do not necessarily reflect the beliefs of this author.
You may hear the music from this chapter on my new playlist: youtubedotcom/jmollytwilight2/LAF, beginning at #7. I have already added the music from previous chapters.
"The Widow Maker, and St Anne's Reel", played by Big John McNeil
"Belgium Put the Kybosh on the Kaiser" was a popular song in 1915, and appeared in the movie
"Oh! What a Lovely War" in 1969. The song is a genuine piece of WWI propaganda.
"God Sees the Little Sparrow Fall"
"The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing", by Irving Berlin, appeared in the movie "Holiday Inn".
"El Primer Paso (Eduardo Diaz)", played by Melinda Toth
The Quileute legend of Thunderbird is paraphrased, and the original summary can be found at wwwdotquileutesdotcom
February 18th 2014
Angela's pov:
"We feel like bad hosts, leaving you and Ben unattended all the time," Bella lamented, biting her lip.
"Nonsense. We're fine with the Kwali Ute. You should mind your menfolk," I stated cheerfully. I was used to entertaining myself. The mere presence of mythical creatures could keep me enthralled for hours. And maybe the Wolf People would have time to tell me another of their legends.
"They should be awake soon," Esme stated. "You've come at a good time, Angela. You've managed to see all sorts of rare things".
"You really never sleep?" I asked Esme. Gosh. I love my sleep. I couldn't imagine giving it up.
"No. Only the males do, and this time it's premature, because of all the stress we've had during the past few years. Normally, it's at least 20 years between naps, and this time it's only been seven." Esme chucked a couple more logs on the fire, which hissed and spat fine embers onto the slate hearth. She hesitated, watching them burn. Emily came out of the kitchen and stepped on them, putting them out. Esme thanked her. I looked at them quizzically.
"Vampires are a little ... flammable," Bella informed me, grimacing.
"Oh," I said brilliantly.
Claire came in, plopped down at the piano, and started running over her scales. Emily poked her head out of the kitchen again, and asked her to please delay her practise until later. She suggested the child go out and feed the chickens. Off went Claire to fetch her coat. I bet she was eager to play with the cats.
Esme continued. "Nobody expected trouble from Caius and his goons. Nobody expected Edward to become a sire of so many lost souls. First, negotiating with Aro. Staking out territories. Watching our colony in Brazil. Bella's pregnancy and Ren's birth. Jacob imprinting on her. All the craziness of going to Dartmouth, bringing up baby, leaving Forks, finding and building this place, making up new cover stories, the trouble in the Amazon, and then Ren elopes with Jacob and comes home announcing she's pregnant. Then, Leah's Imprint topped it all off. I'm surprised Edward didn't fall asleep a lot sooner, although I'm glad that he didn't."
"No, it wouldn't have been fun, dealing with Ren without all the men around to help," Bella murmured.
"I'm surprised the rest of them fell asleep at the same time," Rosalie admitted, reading her knitting pattern. She was making baby shawls for her great nieces.
"Well, they've all been stressed out, too," Esme stated.
I listened to the conversation, fascinated. Apparently, our male vampires built up some kind of stress hormone in their bodies that they couldn't eliminate. So they slept, upon rare occasions, to get rid of it. Apparently, the initial phase could be unnerving, since the napping male would stop breathing. Then, he would list out everything that had distressed him since the previous nap. After that, there was a period of human-like sleep, which would be followed by what sounded like a potentially highly-amusing session of sleepwalking.
When I asked why females didn't sleep, the wives said it was probably because of testosterone. Nobody really explained the process of how males got to sleep. I had asked everyone, and even Rosalie had changed the subject, so it was probably something to do with the fact that Edward and Bella disappeared to do a little book keeping, and did not reappear all day.
That night, Edward talked to Leah about her Imprint. The next morning, Bella came down and informed everyone that Edward was napping, and the other males pretty much fluttered their eyelashes at their respective females, and whisked them away. The Kwali, and humans, were apparently meant to fend for themselves.
The Kwali had been snickering ever since. A lot. Bella finally had threatened to run them through the chipper shredder if they refused to stop making fun. I often wondered if she ever had tried out the chipper-shredder. They did have one. It was out behind the barn under a big tarp.
This morning, Sam had gathered the wolves up and forced them all outside to play hockey. It was blizzard-ing out. Yeah, like that mattered. Lucky dogs were never cold.
Ben, realizing that there were no men to play with, took off to our room for a nap of his own. Which left the females to their own devices. One of which, happily, seemed to be to entertain me.
"Ang?" Bella asked shyly, chewing her lip.
"Yes, Bella?"
"I was wondering ... well, I don't think Edward would mind. He thinks of you as his little sister. I thought perhaps, you might like to see him sleep."
I blushed a little. "Well, I can't deny that I'm interested, Bella," I said hesitantly. "He sometimes seems so alien, and at others so human. But isn't that kind of personal? I mean, I know he's a very private person. I'll never forget the day all the females barged into his room and ... interrupted you. He was livid. I don't think I'll ever forget how he stood there and told us all off."
"Well, I certainly won't," Bella said, eyes rolling. "But it's not like you'd be interrupting anything this time. The other female relatives have all had a peek at him. I've been in to look at the other males, too. It's ... endearing. They look so peaceful. So human. I just thought maybe..."
I smiled at Bella. "If it's not intrusive, I would like to see. Thank you for the invitation."
"It's fine. Come on, before he starts sleepwalking." Bella motioned for me to follow.
"They'll be up soon," Alice smiled, ending off another row of stitches and turning her work.
"Yeah, Edward mostly had small stuff to clear out," Bella shrugged. "Except for the Italian conflicts and beating the tar out of Jacob. He spent a lot of time sweeping those cobwebs, let me tell you."
"He really beat Jacob up?" I asked.
"He really did. And Jake had it coming," Bella stated, brow arched.
Bella took my hand and we headed up the wide staircase. Soon, we were at her door. She stopped outside it to whisper to me. "Let me just go in and make sure he's still properly covered."
"Okay." I stood out in the hallway, feeling a bit awkward.
Bella was back almost instantly, beckoning me in with a soft smile. I crept into the room.
I had never been in their room before, but it wasn't much different to the one in which Ben and I were residing. There were many more personal possessions in it, that was all. And I'd have liked to spend more time looking at those. Perhaps another time, Bella would show me.
The floor was the usual warm maple hardwood, and the small gas fireplace in the corner cast warmth into the room. There were two skin rugs on the floor. The first was a lambskin, the second a mountain lion, complete with teeth. Genuine, I realized. I wondered who was responsible for them, knowing Bella and Edward's history.
Pictures in glinting brass frames dotted the log walls, and there was a dark blue, double wedding ring quilt on the bed. Bella's old rocking chair stood in the corner. A bathroom was situated against the outside wall, on Bella's side of the bed, and two more doors stood between it and the door to the room. The first had louvres. It was obviously a closet. The middle one was a mystery.
There was a small light on Edward's bedside drawers, shedding a soft glow onto the bed. I exchanged a conspirator's smile with Bella. She drew me closer to Edward, and stood with her arms around me and her head resting against my arm. We watched her husband sleep.
Edward lay on his side, his curls crushed and messy on the pillow. His hand lay open, relaxed, upon it, palm up. His dark lashes were long on his cheek, and the lower eyelid held no hint of purple. There were no smudges of tiredness, I realized. His skin was a consistent, pale peach.
He looked far, far younger than usual, even if he was in need of a shave. He looked like ... a kid.
I realized that in the doctored pictures I had been shown, many years ago, of Renesmee's 'birth' parents, Edward had looked very similar. He'd had a beard then. He must have shaved it off before they took the baby out in public, to help with the charade. I knew I'd be asking Bella about it when we got back downstairs.
Bella was right. My protective, 'older' brother was charming when asleep. Like a little boy. And he looked so much younger than me, now. Eleven years younger. Yet for some reason, I always thought of him as my 'big' brother.
I wondered, if I lived to be a hundred, whether I would still feel that way, or if I would grow to see him as something more like a son.
Or perhaps I'd smarten up and realize that age and maturity have nothing to do with grey hair, and everything to do with behaviour.
Edward stirred, shifted, and turned onto his back, and his small gold cross tumbled onto his throat. He sighed, and settled, with a soft smile. Bella pulled back from me, and with a last, adoring look at her mate, took my hand and led me back out. I blinked in the relative brightness of the hallway.
My best friend looked at me expectantly.
"Thank you, Bella."
"You're welcome."
"He looks so peaceful. So young," I marvelled.
"Yes. Naps do them so much good. He'll be stress-free for a while. More able to cope with frustrations, more laid-back..."
"The beard. I've never seen him unshaven. He had it, for the pictures you took to show outsiders when Renesmee was born, didn't he?"
Bella chuckled. "Yes, he did. He grew it on the honeymoon, but decided he had to shave it off to preserve the cover story of the day. He wasn't very happy about losing it."
"Well, he looks like a kid without it," I shrugged. Bella gave me a funny smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, Bella." I stopped her before we could reach the landing. "Did I offend you? Does it ... bother you, looking like an eighteen year old?"
She had actually celebrated her 19th birthday a couple of months before Ren was born, but she had stopped aging when she became pregnant.
Bella snorted. "Not. It took me almost a year and a half to talk Edward into keeping me forever. I'll never regret it."
"I'm glad. I like seeing you unchanging. But does it bother you that I am changing? That Ben and I are aging?" I worried.
"No, Ang. How you change doesn't matter. You'll always be my friend, and you've chosen to stay human. This life isn't for everybody. Perhaps you'll meet God before I do. Perhaps not. Who knows? If you beat me to Heaven, put a word in for me and my family, will ya?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Like my prayers are better than yours?"
Bella put her hands on my arms. "Your prayers are just as good as mine." She stepped onto the landing. "God likes Edward's prayers best, though."
"Ya think?"
"Yup. He likes the lamb turned mountain lion turned sheep. Or perhaps he's one of the shepherds, now."
"Renesmee's birth. How else did you doctor those pictures?" I wondered as we descended. As I recalled, they had been flawless, and the 'mother' had looked quite different from Bella, and the 'father' more than a little different from Edward, even though the man in the picture was meant to be his half-brother.
Bella huffed a laugh. "Alice is a genius at PhotoShop, believe it or not. She added highlights and shadows to our faces, turned me blond and blue-eyed, turned Edward darker auburn and green-eyed, and changed the shape of our mouths and chins. Probably took her all of ten minutes."
We snickered a little, over the mini-whirlwind that was Alice.
Bella led me over to the couch again, then moved to pick something up off of a distant table. An album: large, of black leather, tied with a faded black ribbon. I sat up eagerly. "Pictures?" I demanded.
"Authentic ones," she said proudly.
"Really? What year is it from?" I asked, curiosity consuming me.
"Oh, they aren't from a particular year," Esme said over her knitting. "We just took a couple of photos from everybody's collections and put them together. Only ones without childhood photos are Jasper and Carlisle."
"Wow."
Bella put the old album on my knee and sat next to me. She opened the cover and showed me the first, black-matted page. "They're in the order the family was formed," Bella told me proudly.
I'm sure my mouth was hanging open. I was riveted.
Carlisle and Edward were wearing clothing almost a century out of date. Their poses were formal but the affection the men held for each other was evident. Edward stood with his hand on Carlisle's shoulder. Carlisle was seated on a hard-backed chair. Behind them, a case of books made an interesting backdrop.
"A patient took that in return for treatment," Bella informed me. "1929, in Indiana. Carlisle and Edward posed as brothers, then."
The next was a sharp black-and-white of Carlisle, alone. He had on a doctor's coat, black trousers and highly-polished shoes, and his hair was slicked back. It was labelled '1925'.
"Aren't there any earlier pictures of Carlisle?" I wondered.
"No. He didn't have a family or friends to share them with, and he never thought he would. Pictures are a danger to us. Humans might discover them, and question our age, so he never had any taken."
On the following page was a sepia tone picture of Edward as a knobby-kneed boy of about ten, wearing short pants and a big attitude. "Oh, my gosh," I gaped. "He looks exactly the same."
"Don't tell him that," Bella warned. "He thinks he looks dorky. He was mad at his mother for having his picture taken in short pants. All his friends had graduated to long ones."
I flipped the page up, carefully. The next, small pictures were of little girls in white dresses: Esme, Rosalie and Alice, I realized. "The little girl photos are so cute. Is that all there are of Edward?" I flipped the page again, and discovered Esme in her cocktail-length wedding dress.
There were pictures of Em and Rose in formal, 1940's style clothing, marked 'The Stork Club', and one of Jazz and Alice in love beads with long hair and androgynous clothing. I particularly liked the one of the three boys, dressed like 1950's greasers: leather jackets and all.
"You mean childhood photos?" Bella wondered. "That's the only one he's willing to display on a regular basis. He has quite a few. Carlisle was able to liberate quite a few mementos and family heirlooms from the Masen house before the solicitor came to sort it out. He spirited some truly special things out from under Edward's step-siblings noses."
"Does Edward have a baby picture?" I grinned, admiring one labelled with Alice's name. In it, she had black curls and a ringlet caught up in a bow on top of her head. Her skirt had sharp white pleats that flared out. She had to have been about a year old.
"Well, he has one where he's about two or three. He's wearing a white sailor dress and -we think- brown shoes with straps and buttons."
Baby Edward in a dress? Holy cow. "Can I see it, Bella? Please?" I begged.
"Um, I don't know. He gets so embarrassed, and I don't want him to be upset," Bella said, chewing her lip.
"He's asleep, Bella," Alice said, eyes rolling. "Here, Ang." She held out a small frame. I reached out for it eagerly.
"Oh, this is so adorable," I enthused.
"Alice!" Bella growled.
"What? It'll be fine. Besides, you're showing Ang mine."
"Come on, sister. You love showing off that picture. It took you enough years to get any. How many did Cynthia give you?"
"Ten. Edward is coming down in fifteen minutes. I'll take it back to your room, then. He won't even notice."
"When he comes down, will he be awake?" Bella asked cautiously.
"Nope. Sleepwalking," Alice said in a sing-song voice.
"Decent?" Bella asked, eyes narrowed.
"Yep. Pyjama pants and robe," Alice confirmed. "I've got the video camera ready for when the guys start being funny."
"Okay," Bella smirked. "He didn't believe me, last time."
"He will if we get him on film," Alice sang.
"Blackmail?" I chuckled.
"More of an 'I told you so', claimed Rosalie.
"See, Angela, when they sleepwalk, they think their human," Alice said.
"The last time Edward napped, he ate raw stewing meat, thinking it was popcorn," Bella smirked, picking up some knitting. "And he drank tea."
I gaped, not quite sure how to respond to that.
"Carlisle always drinks coffee. He usually gets really wired, and then he tries to drive to work. He loves work," Esme said fondly.
The front door opened, admitting a gust of freezing air and some snow, followed by Renesmee and Jacob. They stomped their feet carefully on the mat and brushed slush out of their hair.
"Well, well, well. If it's not my kids," Bella said teasingly. "Get tired of the snow?"
"Yeah," Renesmee said, a little bashfully.
"You're not going to eat your Auntie Angel, are you? Because all the men are occupied and cannot guard her," Bella continued.
"Seriously, Mother," Renesmee sighed.
"The deer population around here is now severely depleted," Jake said proudly.
"How many did you get this time?" Rose wondered.
" 'Bout eight," Renesmee shrugged.
"Eight? Holy cow," Bella gawped.
"Children? Stop dripping on the floor," Esme growled softly.
"Sorry, Gram," Renesmee said sheepishly, pulling her husband into the cloak room. Jacob emerged moments later bearing a mop, which he swished through the slushy trail. He exited back into the cloak room, and before long, giggles and whispers could be heard.
"Get a room," Rosalie called. "There are kids around."
Jacob cleared his throat loudly, and the pair came back out, hand in hand. "Sorry."
"No, you're not," Bella stated.
"What's with the knitting circle?" Renesmee asked. "Usually the men are out here, demanding attention."
"Hey," Jake protested. "We just love you."
"Like I said," my niece groaned with an eye roll, concreting the resemblance to her father.
"They're asleep," Esme said.
Renesmee gawped. "Really?"
"Yep. Seems you two have been stressing Dad out," Bella teased.
"I will only accept partial responsibility for that, Mom. Seems to me some of it's your fault, and some of it's the Brazilians', and some of it's Caius's, and some of it's Leah's."
"Okay, I give. But you're lucky Jake is still alive. Had Edward not accepted that your mate bond is genuine, Jake would be in trouble."
"He does forgive me, right?" Jacob asked nervously, combing his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.
"I dunno ... Eloping with a minor? Putting our daughter through pregnancy with twins?" Bella eyed her son-in-law from under her lashes, head tilted a little to the side.
Renesmee growled softly, and all the women laughed.
"Just joshing," Bella said, brows raised. "Not trying to provoke the Newborn."
"Speaking of," Jacob interrupted, looking nervously from Nessie to Bella, "where are my kids?"
"Kim stole them again," Esme volunteered. "If you're going to see them, at least make sure you come back in time to see the males when they start wandering around. If we don't have any more cataclysms, it's apt to be another 20 to 50 years before you get the chance to see it again."
"Just remember to give them their own way if they insist on it," Rose advised. "Don't wake them, and don't tell them something's not healthy for them. They're not 'all there' upstairs, don't forget."
"Just let the wives handle them," Alice added.
"Um, sure, sure. Ness? Let's go see the babies." Jacob took Nessie's hand and started to lead her away.
"Hah. You might want to wait," Alice smirked, needles clacking.
Someone's tread was upon the stair. Bella got up, and went to the foot of the staircase, smiling. "Hello, Beautiful. Did you have a nice nap?"
"Yes." Edward ran a hand through his hair, looking blank. "Angel?"
"Yes, love?"
"It's chilly."
"Aw, Sweetie. Is your robe not warm enough?"
Edward seemed to think about that for a few minutes. "No," he answered, brow furrowed.
"Why don't you come and sit by the fire," Bella suggested.
"Okay." Edward allowed himself to be led over to the massive fireplace at the back of the room. He touched the stubble on his chin, then looked at his fingers as though surprised to find it there. "Angel?"
"Yes, love?"
"I had the strangest dream," he said, rubbing his eyes roughly with his knuckles. Bella pulled his hand down and stroked it.
"Did you?" she crooned.
"Yeah. I dreamed I was a vampire and I killed a deer."
"That's what he said last time, apparently," Esme whispered to me. "They have to reconcile their disparate realities."
I nodded understandingly.
Edward was watching Alice knit. "Excuse me, Miss?"
"Yes?" Alice said, quivering with suppressed excitement as usual.
"You seem to have dropped a stitch."
"Aw, heck. I hate it when that happens," Alice lamented mendaciously. Bella muttered something about evil psychic pixies.
"If you would allow me, Miss," Edward offered, holding out his hand.
"Thanks," Alice grinned, handing over the knitting. She grinned at Bella wickedly.
Bella whispered, "Oh, he's going to love having everyone know about this," and rolled her eyes.
"Molly says the Suffragettes are meeting Tuesday night." Edward said, unravelling about two hundred rows of knitting. Putting the needle back through the loops, he started knitting at an incredible speed. I gawped at him in disbelief.
"Where'd he learn to knit?" Esme whispered, gawping.
"Jem taught me. I want to start a new cable knit pullover since mine was poorly made, and a vest for my Ren, and a cardigan for my Bella," Edward informed us, needles busily working up inches of even, beautifully tensioned stitches.
"That's lovely dear," Esme smiled.
"Are you going to the rally?" Bella wondered.
"Maybe. As long as Mother doesn't find out."
Esme looked a little confused.
"Elizabeth," Bella mouthed. Esme nodded understandingly.
"I wouldn't want Father to get out his belt. Are you sure it's safe?" Bella asked.
"Hell. He hasn't struck me since I went to the poker game with Laurie. God help me if he finds out about the cigarettes." Edward felt around on his chest as though searching for something. "I appear to be out. Crap! Angel? What am I going to do? Molly will be so disappointed if I don't bring her some, and there's no time to go to the store."
"Aw, love. Smoking is bad for you, anyway."
Edward frowned crossly. "It's not bad for you. It makes life tolerable. Boy, you should smell everybody in the summer heat. They have a horrible stench. What makes you think cigarettes are bad? Everybody smokes. And they're calming. Why, I love sitting with Molly after my lesson. She's counting on me. I'll let her down."
Edward seemed to be getting agitated. Sighing, Rosalie stood up and went over to him. "Mr Masen?" she said, pulling a silver case out of her sweater pocket.
"Yes. Miss?"
"Hale. You may have one of my cigarettes, and a couple to give Molly, if you promise to smoke them outside. Our mother does not allow smoking in this house. She thinks it is a vice."
"I would not wish to give offence to your mother, young lady. Thank you so much for your kindness. I shall tell Molly that a young lady procured these for her," Edward said, smiling solemnly and accepting the cancer sticks. He passed Alice's knitting back to her. Renesmee gasped, gawping after her Dad.
"Beautiful? Let Angel show you outside, to a place where you may smoke in peace." Bella said, pulling Edward up by the elbow and steering him toward the dining room exit. He stopped, put her hand in the crook of his arm, and sauntered out like he was Cary Grant, the unlit cigarette dangling from his lip.
I gaped at Rosalie. "He smoked?" I asked incredulously.
Rosalie's nose wrinkled. "They all did. So did Esme and I. Alice didn't. She and Bella are the only ones in the family who never smoked. And now, tobacco smells horrible to us, thank goodness. Really poisonous. But when the men sleep, they revert. And smoking is so addictive, they fall back into the addiction, even though the tobacco smells and tastes awful to them."
"That's sad," I remarked.
"Yes. But it's lucky I had these ready for Emmett. It's not good to thwart their wishes when they're sleepwalking. Emmett's first nap was not a pretty thing."
"It certainly wasn't. I thought we'd have to move after," Esme sighed. "Oh, speak of the devil," she remarked.
Rose got up to fetch Emmett. "Hello, Emmy Bear," she smiled.
"Hello, young lady." Emmett leaned over, giving his wife the eye. She steered him all the way to the piano.
"Here, love. Play something for me," she suggested, handing him a fiddle. Alice got out the video camera, and started taping.
Emmett tuned the fiddle, and began to play an extremely complicated reel. Various humans wandered in to watch him.
"He can't play at all when he's awake," Esme murmured to me, a little sadly. "He doesn't remember how. It seems to be a mental block. He can play all sorts of beautiful things until you ask him to play something specific, then he blanks out. No matter what we try, he can't be taught."
I turned my eyes to Emmett, shocked. He ended his reel with a flourish.
"Play another one for me, Em?" Rosalie begged.
"Uh, sure, pretty lady. A waltz, just for you. If you'll give me a cigarette after," Emmett played again, and the assembled humans and vampires clapped. I felt a lump swell my throat.
Edward and Bella came back through the dining room entrance. "I just don't understand. It was my brand. Must have been a bad batch. Lot of cheating in manufacturing these days," he muttered, as Bella tut-tutted at him. They went to sit near Emmett's end of the room, so I changed seats to eavesdrop.
Emmett started playing a cheeky-sounding tune. Edward turned to Bella and me, muttering sotto voce. "Variety music. My parents do not approve, you know. But it's only in fun. I don't understand the harm in it."
"No harm in it love," Bella said, stroking his hand. "Just enjoy it. Nothing to worry about."
"Okay, Angel. Um..." he ran his hand through his hair, then resumed his formal posture. Who sits up straight on the edge of a couch, for Pete's sake?
"What is it, love?" Bella asked soothingly.
"I would like some tea. Do you think the lady running this evening's soireé might be providing refreshments? She sounds like an awful old battleaxe," Edward fretted.
"I will go and enquire. The daughter is my friend," Bella said, standing up and turning toward the kitchen as Emmett took a bow.
Edward took her hand, and kissed the back of it. "Thank you, my angel." He watched her go, then turned to look at me, somewhat vaguely. "Do you suppose there will be dancing later?" he wondered.
"Um, I don't know Mr ... Masen."
"You know, I think this lady may not think it improper. She has, after all, allowed her young violinist to play most risqué songs."
"Risqué?" I wondered. To my amazement, Edward started to sing a jaunty tune. Rosalie listened a minute, and started to play along with him.
A silly German sausage
Dreamt Napoleon he'd be,
Then he went and broke his promise,
It was made in Germany.
He shook hands with Britannia
And eternal peace he swore,
Naughty boy, he talked of peace
While he prepared for war.
He stirred up little Serbia
To serve his dirty tricks
But naughty nights at Liege
Quite upset this Dirty Dick.
His luggage labelled 'England'
And his programme nicely set,
He shouted 'First stop Paris',
But he hasn't got there yet.
For Belgium put the kibosh on the Kaiser;
Europe took the stick and made him sore;
On his throne it hurts to sit,
And when John Bull starts to hit,
He will never sit upon it any more.
His warships sailed upon the sea,
They looked a pretty sight
But when they heard the bulldog bark
They disappeared from sight.
The Kaiser said 'Be careful,
If by Jellicoe they're seen,
Then every man-of-war I've got
Will be a submarine'.
We chased his ship to Turkey,
And the Kaiser startled stood,
Scratch'd his head and said 'Don't hurt,
You see I'm touching wood';
Then Turkey brought her warships
Just to aid the German plot,
Be careful, Mr Turkey,
Or you'll do the Turkey Trot.
Belgium put the kibosh on the Kaiser;
Europe took the stick and made him sore;
And if Turkey makes a stand
She'll get gurkha'd and japanned,
And it won't be Hoch the Kaiser any more.
He'll have to go to school again
And learn his geography,
He quite forgot Britannia
And the hands across the sea,
Australia and Canada,
the Russian and the Jap,
And England looked so small
He couldn't see her on the map.
Whilst Ireland seemed unsettled,
'Ah' said he 'I'll settle John',
But he didn't know the Irish
Like he knew them later on.
Though the Kaiser stirred the lion,
Please excuse him for the crime,
His lunatic attendant
Wasn't with him at the time.
For Belgium put the kibosh on the Kaiser;
Europe took the stick and made him sore;
We shall shout with victory's joy,
Hold your hand out, naughty boy,
You must never play at soldiers any more.
For Belgium put the kibosh on the Kaiser;
Europe took the stick and made him sore;
On his throne it hurts to sit,
And when John Bull starts to hit,
He will never sit upon it any more.
Edward finished the song, and everyone clapped. Jacob was looking a little gobsmacked. Probably unused to seeing Edward do anything so ... silly. As for Edward, he went back to addressing me with his crooked grin. "Irving Berlin, too," he leaned in conspiratorially. "Even Jolson," he whispered. "Perhaps our hostess is a Suffragist."
"Perhaps," I agreed. "Can you tell me about Molly?"
Edward looked both ways. "I should not wish to expose her to any condemnation," he fretted, "for she is alone and unprotected in the world. And besides, Mother will discontinue my lessons if she finds out."
I was intrigued. "I won't tell. I'm a Suffragette myself."
"Beware going to meetings. I hear some of the young ladies have been most dreadfully abused. Some of them have even been starved and beaten in prison," my vampire fretted, biting his lip.
"I thank you for your concern. I shall certainly take care," I affirmed.
"Molly teaches me piano."
"Ah," I said, smiling.
"Mother thinks she is most dreadfully proper, but I fear she is not. She is a feminist," he declared, looking about like spies might come out of the woodwork.
I tried not to swallow my tongue. "And what think you of that, Mr Masen?"
"I think it would be a kindness to womankind to grant them some rights, Miss?"
"Weber."
"Ah. The Little Angel of Forks," he said nonchalantly. After a few minutes, he added, "Bella is a Seraph."
"I know."
"She loves me," Edward declared, listening to the piano. Rosalie had taken over for Em, who was now sitting on the bench beside her. Rose was running through some hymns.
"She certainly does," I confirmed.
"I love her, too," he told me conspiratorially.
I laughed. "Yes, I know that, too." I smiled as Claire came and stood by Rosalie. She had some straw in her hair, which Rose picked out.
Claire started to sing in a sweet, high voice. Bella stopped in the kitchen doorway, two mugs of tea in her hand. She did not move, but listened to Claire.
God sees the little sparrow fall,
It meets His tender view;
If God so loves the little birds,
I know He loves me, too.
(Refrain) He loves me, too, He loves me, too,
I know He loves me, too;
Because He loves the little things,
I know He loves me, too.
He paints the lily of the field,
Perfumes each lily bell;
If He so loves the little flow'rs,
I know He loves me well.
Refrain
God made the little birds and flow'rs,
And all things large and small;
He'll not forget his little ones,
I know He loves them all.
Refrain
In the middle of the song, Carlisle appeared, and Esme rushed to intercept him. He was wearing medical scrubs and heading, with determination, for the front door. Whispering, Esme coaxed him to come back into the room and be seated. Like Edward, he sat stiffly, one foot slightly in front of the other on the floor, hands in his lap. Once he was settled, everyone gave their attention back to Claire. She held us all in her small hands, spellbound.
When the song was over, everyone clapped, and Bella brought Edward his tea and handed me the other mug. It was, as always, made to my personal order. Bella, after all, never forgets.
"Truly, 'tis a shame the service is over," Carlisle declared in a strong British accent. "For there is naught proper to do of a Sunday afternoon except listen to dissertations on sermons, and my father's are most exceeding frightly and improper for the ears of young ladies. It worrits me that they may have shadows thrust upon their dreams."
"There, there, kind sir. Fear not, for the Reverent Mister is gone to old Mister Stephens', who is going to meet the Lord, and he shall not return many hours hence."
"Ah. Then we shall have a gentler book of sermons. Perhaps Sir Thomas Moore's?" Carlisle suggested. "Something on the matter of kindness, suitable for young ladies? Perhaps we might read of Corinthians?"
"An admirable pursuit, Mr Cullen," Esme suggested, pushing him onto the couch.
Carlisle sat still for about five minutes, then fidgeted. "It is a shame it is Sunday, for there shall be only cold meats and vegetables for supper, and I should dearly like a glass of coffee."
"Take you not tea, Mr Cullen?" Esme enquired, playing along most seriously.
"Alas, Milady, I much prefer coffee. It gets me through long shifts in the Emergency, you see."
"Ah, I see, Doctor Cullen. It is no longer Sunday. Perhaps you would like one?"
"Indeed I would, Milady, if it would not be an imposition to you," he confirmed, his accent all but gone.
"Please wait, and I shall bring you a mug of it," Esme declared.
I turned my attention to Edward, who was drinking his tea, blithely, while listening to Rosalie play. "She reminds me of my daughter," he remarked to the assembled individuals.
"He's getting close to waking up," Alice whispered in my ear. "Remembering things from recent times."
"Who does?" Bella asked her husband, smiling archly.
"The young lady playing the piano. They both have an eye for fashion and an ear for music, although I do think my daughter plays the guitar rather better than this young lady," he stated, gesturing at Rose.
"Would you like your daughter to play guitar for you?" Bella asked, clearly repressing laughter. Rosalie finished up her piece, rolled her eyes with a sarcastic air, and pulled Em over to sit with her.
"I always like to hear her," Edward said softly. "Especially when she plays what Nahuel taught her."
Jacob bristled a little. Renesmee rolled her eyes and whispered, "I'm married to you, aren't I?" Renesmee caressed his cheek and kissed him on top of his head. He appeared mollified.
"Here, Daddy. I'll play a little for you, shall I?" Renesmee retrieved a classical guitar from a stand beside the piano. She tuned it up, and began to play. Notes flowed from her fingers like water. I hadn't heard her play in years, and I was delighted.
"What do you think of my daughter? She plays well, doesn't she?" Edward asked softly, smiling crookedly at me.
"Yes. I think she is very like her father," I whispered.
"You like her playing then?" he asked softly, pulling out a cigarette and casting about for matches. Not finding any, he seemed to decide it was satisfactory, just having it in his mouth.
"I am mesmerized," I declared.
"Beware Franz Anton Mesmer," Carlisle declared. The English accent was back. "He plays with the minds of men. 'Tis unholy."
"Listen to the music," Esme suggested patiently.
Edward was now crooning along with the music Rosalie was playing. The cigarette was back in his pocket. "The best things... Happen while you're dancing..."
Suddenly, he hopped to his feet and twirled Bella around. "Things that you would not do at home come nat'rally on the floor... For dancing..Soon becomes romancing ..."
Thank God Alice was taping, because he was never going to believe later that he was copying Danny Kaye move for move. Wearing a white robe and plaid pyjama pants. Of course, Bella was doing a pretty good job of being Vera Lynn. They were not leaving an inch of the floor uncovered, and Bella was loving every second of it.
Esme addressed Carlisle again."Do you like your coffee?"
"Aye, but I fear to say, it would do better with more sugar," Carlisle declared, watching Renesmee. Esme took the mug, discovered it was empty, and returned with a fresh, steaming cup. Carlisle thanked her as she gave it to him.
"Just provin' that the best things... Happen, when you dance!" Edward finished, dipping Bella over his knee as he knelt on the carpet. Wow.
Jasper came barrelling down the stairs, stopping dead at the bottom and looking about wildly. "They're after me," he declared, eyes wild.
"Poor Jasper," Alice cooed, rushing to meet him. "Who is after you?"
"The pale women. Hide me, quickly," he yelped, grabbing up Alice's hands in his.
"Alright, Captain. I shall take you to my chambers," Alice said matter-of-factly.
"That would not be seemly," Jasper worried. "Is this a saloon?"
"Yes, handsome."
"Oh. That's alright, then." But instead of going upstairs behind Alice, he marched into the midst of us and stood, expectantly. Pulling a pipe from his pocket, he tapped it against the bottom of his boot, and put it in his mouth.
"Scandalous," Carlisle muttered, and returned his attention to Edward. "Tell me, young man, whether the accounts of the natives in this country be true?"
Edward fiddled with his cigarette. "What are the rumours?" he wondered.
"That they be savage and not like men."
Jacob bristled again. Renesmee laid a hand on his shoulder, and he sat back, paying strict attention to the conversation.
" 'Tis untrue sir," Jasper growled, gesturing with his pipe. "They are the same as other men, but have different customs. Not any different with the blacks. The Mexicans, now, they fight mighty fierce. We are having a great problem with them in Texas. But they are all people, like us. That is what my mother always said to us, and she is right. I have fought along side other races, and some I've fought against. But they are all human beings. They love the same things, and they hate the same. 'Tis most wrong to think them inferior."
"What is your mother's name?" Alice piped up.
Jasper stared into the murky past, searching.
"Jenny," he said, finally. All the women sighed and exchanged triumphant smiles. "It is also the name of my tow-headed youngest sister, who is but five year."
"And your father's name?" Alice asked calmly. Jasper frowned.
Something small and black whisked across the room, practically running over Carlisle's feet.
"Stone the crows!" Carlisle yelled, startling us all. "A witch's Familiar!"
"Jehosophat! It must belong to the pale women," Jasper howled. He turned and fled, followed closely by Alice. Moments later, a door slammed upstairs.
Edward looked at Mungojerry's brother, Mistoffelees, and scoffed. He put his arm over the back of the couch, and rested his ankle on the opposite knee. "It's only a cat," he said, eyes rolling, as he waved his cigarette dismissively.
" 'Tis black. 'Tis the Devil's Familiar," Carlisle insisted.
"Claire! Get the damn cat out!" Rosalie snapped. Carlisle gasped, looking at Rose in horror. Claire hastened to comply.
"Swears jar," Esme said in a monotone. Growling under her breath, Rosalie walked to the mantle and dropped some money in a large pickle jar. She stomped back to her seat.
"You're not from around here, are you?" Edward enquired narrowly, searching Carlisle's face without so much as a glimmer of recognition.
"Nay. I am a doctor from the Continent, come here to teach at the Philadelphia College of Apothecaries".
"1821," Esme muttered in my ear.
"A prestigious institution," Edward declared, turning the cigarette in his fingers. "I had no idea Englishmen were so superstitious, however." Back it went to his mouth.
"My father says we must all be on our watch lest the Devil corrupt us," Carlisle announced.
"Well, I cannot fault that view, sir," Edward sighed, taking his foot off his knee and leaning on his elbows. "My father is forever trying to keep the Devil from taking hold of me."
Emmett guffawed loudly, counting out the cigarettes in his case. Carlisle and Edward scowled at him.
Carlisle decided to ignore Emmett, refocusing on Edward. "A good man, sir."
"Yes, I am fond of him."
"Is he a temperamental man?" Carlisle wondered.
"Mostly, sir, he is very much in control of his temper. He is a barrister."
"I see. Serving the Colonists?"
"Indeed. Mother and I are very proud of him." Edward took the cigarette out of his mouth and gestured with it. "He is very well-known in Chicago."
"How very nice. And you are an affectionate son. I hope I have an affectionate son, someday."
"I expect you will have many affectionate sons, sir, as you seem kind."
"Indeed, sir, I hope to be thought so. It is extremely important that a doctor have compassion for his patients."
"I hope you are also patient with your students, sir."
"Indeed. But I know many who are not so."
Edward's eyes rolled. "As do I. Angel?"
'Yes, love?"
"Are you my Bella?"
"Yes, love. It's me. Are you ready to go back to bed?" Bella held her hand out to Edward. Putting his cigarette in his pocket, he took her hand and rose smoothly to his feet.
"I am rather tired today. I do hope it is not the influenza."
"No, dearest. You're not ill. You just need a little nap." Confiscating his cigarette, she passed it to Rose, and patting Edward on the shoulder, she led him back upstairs.
"The young man is wise," Carlisle declared. "The hour grows late. I am on call and must be prepared to be at the hospital all night. I should sleep while it is possible."
"Let me show you to your room," Esme suggested, smiling. She turned and winked at Rosalie.
"Emmett? Are you ready for a nap?" Rosalie asked softly.
"Nah. I just want my cigarettes. Is there any whiskey?"
Rosalie took Emmett by the hand. "This establishment does not permit smoking indoors. Come outside, and then, when you are finished, I'll take you up to your room and you can have a whiskey."
"Rosie?"
"Yes, Em?"
"I don't want to break anything."
"You haven't. Come on, Monkey Man."
"Okay, Darlin'."
Everybody was gone except a couple of Quileute and Renesmee.
"Well, that was random," she declared with an eye roll. "Can we go see my babies now, please?"
"Sure, sure," Jacob declared, getting up quickly and pulling his wife from the room. "I hope I'm not around next time that happens."
"Why? They were funny," Renesmee said, looking bemused.
"It's weird, seeing the Great Leaders step out of character. Smoking, drinking, singing rude songs... It's just surreal."
"What is?" Sam said, coming in the front door, followed by Quill, Embry, and Jared.
"The Great Leaders and Company took naps and walked in their sleep. You missed the whole show," Jake declared, shaking his head.
"Auntie Alice got it on camera. We'll roast them later," Renesmee shrugged. "When they've recovered from the abuses to which they subjected their bodies.
"Wonderful," Sam said. He led the Kwali to the cloak room. When they emerged, Emily came out of the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and passed it around.
"Hey, Sam?" I asked tentatively.
"Yes, Angela?" he asked, eyeing me intently.
"Could you please tell me another Kwali Ute story?"
"Uh, sure. Let me think. Have we told you about Thunderbird yet?"
"No," I said, settling myself to listen.
"Many years ago, the Quileute were having a difficult time. The Earth was devastated with snow, ice, hail, sleet, and rain. People, animals, and plants died. The Quileute were unable to fish because of the rough water and they had eaten what little plant life was left after the storms. The people began to starve to death.
"The Great Chief told the tribe that they would make one last appeal to the Great Spirit for help and if they were meant to survive the Great Spirit would save them. Were their pleas refused, they resolved to die bravely as befit a Quileute.
"The Great Chief made one last prayer to the Great Spirit and then the tribe waited quietly for Him to respond. Soon, there came a loud sound and flashes of lightening rent the darkness. With the flapping of huge wings, Thunderbird flew to them from over the sea. In its talons was a large, living whale. Thunderbird presented it to the tribe before returning back into the lightening from which it was born. The people rejoiced, knowing the Creator cared about them."
"That's a lovely legend, Sam. Thank you for sharing it." I said.
"Ask Billy to tell you some when you're back home. He tells stories the best of anyone, since Old Quill passed."
"I will, thanks. The Kwali will make lots of new stories here, won't they?" I asked softly.
"There are always stories, new and old," Sam said wisely. "Stories are made, and they evolve with the people who tell them. That is a gift of the Creator."
If you want more information about napping vampires, read Chapter 6 of 'I Hunger', but please be advised that the chapter is rated M for mature content including sexuality.
More legends concerning the supernatural creatures and humans of the Olympic Peninsula may be found in Chapter 29 of 'I Hunger', which carries a T rating.