Thank you all for your eternal patience. More to follow soon.
Disclaimer: All characters owned and created by Stephenie Meyer.
This chapter is unbeta'ed – any errors are mine and I apologise in advance.
~o.O.o~
All I Want to Hear
Chapter 14
The hours drag. Edward checks his watch whenever he's alone, cursing the hands for their obstinate refusal to move faster.
In the quiet of the witching hour, he jots down the details of the Benefici vineyard, noting all methods of contact that he can utilise. It's a matter of deciding which would likely result in a response. He instinctively understands that a phone call could be dismissed as a prank, a painful and vile hoax that would make any further contact all but impossible.
An email? It could work, but could also fall into a junk folder and be deleted. Worse, he has no way of knowing who checks the account for the vineyard, and the thought of the private contents being read first by a staff member makes him shudder.
It has to be right. It's for Carlisle, who deserves the chance to find his family, to rediscover the love lost so long ago.
A letter. It has to be a letter. Old fashioned, proper, and likely to draw enough attention to reach its recipient intact. It must be on dignified stationery, make an impression before opening. Using the Dragonfly's headed stationery is unthinkable; this is not business correspondence to be filed away and dealt with in due course.
This holds a far higher sense of importance.
He will buy quality stationery, a good, heavyweight cream paper.
The only question is: how to begin?
~o.O.o~
He sips coffee, anxious about his upcoming discussion with Charlotte. He plays out the scenarios in his head, hoping for the best, hoping for understanding. He is all too aware that in the cutthroat world of business, however, the employee holds few cards when it comes to his or her working contract.
The night draws to a close, the sky pinking in a virgin's blush. Edward ensures the restaurant team is prepared for breakfast, the routine familiar. All room service carts have been cleared away ready for the guests to start the day afresh. The Inn is quietly bustling, the scent of freshly brewed coffee in the air, the sound of footsteps overhead. In this early hour, the Inn comes alive, guests preparing to start their day.
His shift ends, but this time Edward waits for Charlotte to arrive rather than nodding good morning whilst handing over to Peter. He takes a seat by the staff coffee machine, knowing it's her first stop.
"Edward! Nice to see you." She pours a cup and takes a sip, surprised to see him still there. "Did you want to see me?"
Edward nods, somewhat awkward now that the moment is upon him.
"Good morning, Charlotte. Yes, please, if you have a moment?"
She beckons him into her cosy office and nods to a seat. Somewhat at a loss, Edward falters before sitting, endeavouring to calm his racing heart.
Charlotte frowns, concerned. Edward swallows.
"Charlotte. I love my job here and I want you to know that before I go on." He looks up to see her watching him. "My situation at home has changed. My personal life has changed - in a wonderful way. Which brings me to my request." His words are halting, not at all the confident communicator he shows to the world.
"I met someone a while back. We live together now. I-I-" He clenches his fist under the table to regain his strength. "I wanted to ask if I could be transferred to a day job. I want to spend my evenings and nights at home. My partner works days, and with me working nights we don't get any quality time together. I know that others do this and don't make a big deal about it, and I understand that my home life is not the company's concern, but this matters a great deal to me for reasons I won't go into." A gulp of air. "I am willing to take a step back to achieve this. I appreciate that there's no comparable role available in the day shift."
Charlotte is silent, taken by surprise by the request. She takes a moment, sips her coffee to hide her dismay.
"This has come rather out of the blue. With yourself and Peter doing the day to day running of the Inn, there's little need for other staff at your level as you're no doubt aware. There might be a part time assistant role coming up in the near future. I won't know for definite until the person in question decides what to do. If you decided to take that role, the pay would be greatly reduced as I'm sure you're aware. I would also need you to train your replacement up to the Dragonfly standard before you could leave your current role."
Edward breathes out in relief.
"If the position opens up, how many hours would it be?"
"No more than 20 hours a week. Less than half your current hours."
Edward nods, his brain running a mile a minute.
"Can I put my name down as a definite if it comes available? I'm serious about making the change. It's important to our future."
He feels the blush heat his cheeks and wills it to lessen.
Charlotte nods, surprised by the turn of events.
"One thing, Edward. If the job doesn't open up, what then?"
Breathe. Just breathe.
"Then I will tender my resignation at that time."
"Just like that?" Charlotte is unable to hide her shock.
"I would help you train a replacement of course. I respect you and I love the Inn, I hope you know that. I wouldn't just walk away and leave you shorthanded."
"But you will walk away."
The soft tick of the wall clock is the only sound. With regret, Edward answers.
"Yes, yes I'm afraid I will."
~o.O.o~
The blank sheet of stationery stares back at him, mocking his attempts to put pen to paper.
Where to begin? What words could reach back through time to express the pain of a young man's betrayed heart?
Feeling warm hands on his shoulders, he turns. Carlisle smiles, trying to dispel the nervous tension between them, and claims he needs a breath or air. It's a transparent ruse to allow Edward the space to think and approach the delicate task at hand. Carlisle feels mute – a fraud. To be a writer unable to find the words is to be simply an observer.
Edward takes a deep breath and rolls the pen between thumb and forefinger.
'Signora Benefici…'
The words are birthed in painful, laborious waves onto the pristine sheet.
'My name is Edward Masen, and I am a manager at the Dragonfly Inn in Maine. I hope that this letter finds you well.
I am writing to you on behalf of someone close to both of us, someone I met through my work.
It's about your son…'
How much to say? Nothing specific – any news is Carlisle's to impart – and should she not respond, it would be best that she not know more details of his life such as the name he has adopted, the life he now shares. In the event of a negative response he can move forward with a clean slate, knowing in his heart that he reached out, that he tried to heal the rift between them.
Edward knows that Carlisle expects nothing, is, in fact, steeling himself against the agony of further rejection, and yet is taking back control of his own life. Edward feels immense pride at Carlisle's bravery, knowing that it's thanks to his new found self-belief and their shared strength together as a couple.
He keeps the letter short and pertinent, formal and polite. He has included his email and his cell number for any possible response. Carlisle has asked not to read it, placing all his trust in Edward to say the right thing. Edward feels the weight of responsibility on his shoulders but cannot bring himself to resent it. The cards are dealt – now they wait to see who has the winning hand.
Carlisle returns, closing the door quietly and heading to the kitchen in search of coffee. If he sees the addressed envelope poking from Edward's jacket pocket he makes no sign. Instead, he sighs with relief when loving arms curl around his shoulders, warm breath on his neck.
"Skip the coffee and come to bed." Soft lips and rough stubble chafe his neck and his head lolls to the side, a soft moan escaping his throat, all interest in coffee quenched.
There are no more words needed. Their bodies know this dance.
~o.O.o~
The days pass.
Every chirp of his cell sends Edward fumbling for his pocket, only to be disappointed. He watches Carlisle withdraw into himself, detaching from the situation and throwing himself into his writing, and understands his pain. This time of waiting will pass, turning either into celebration or mourning, and all he can do is be there. Whenever there is the opportunity he seduces Carlisle, reminding him of how much they already have, how good their life together is.
Weeks pass with no word.
They spend time together with Monroe, meeting his beloved cats and both secretly wishing they could smuggle one away with them. The old man is overjoyed to have visitors and they make it a regular event, taking turns in cooking and sharing stories.
Despite the distraction, Carlisle is very down and Edward comforts his love, apologising for ever bringing up the idea of making contact with his family. Carlisle, despite his anguish, insists on not placing blame or retribution; he needed to know where he stood and though he is bitterly disappointed, he has his answer.
They are each other's family now.
The first snow arrives, a little later than predicted, but in time for Halloween. Edward wakes to see Carlisle watching the flakes fall.
"When did it start snowing?" He wriggles into a sitting position to try and see. Carlisle smiles.
"About four hours ago. It's settling – going to be quite a heavy fall by all accounts. The weather forecast said so."
Edward rubs his eyes.
"I was going to go to the farmer's market in the morning to get pumpkins. I knew I should've gone yesterday."
Carlisle turns, a small furrow between his eyebrows.
"Pumpkins? For the Inn?"
Edward shakes his head. "No, for here. Wait too long and all the best ones are gone. It's Halloween in two days and I need to get carving." He pauses in realisation. "You've never carved a pumpkin? Well, you can help me. I'm not brilliant at it, but I can do a good scary face. You up for the challenge?"
Carlisle sits on the edge of the mattress and leans in to kiss him. "Let's do it. Let's go together in the morning and you can show me how to choose the right ones for the job."
When work is over for the night, Edward steps outside into the bright white morning. To his delight he finds Carlisle waiting for him, dressed for the weather in a new pair of boots and a sturdy coat, a knotted scarf around his neck with his beautiful hair hidden beneath a warm hat. The snow is thick beneath their feet and together they crunch their way to the farmer's market to see what they can find.
Edward knows exactly what he is looking for and is triumphant when he has them bagged and paid for. Carlisle just watches him, the fondest of smiles on his face at Edward's childlike excitement. They walk home, each carrying a bag, their gloved hands joined. The anonymity of their heavy clothing and the weather leaving Carlisle feeling freer than he has in a long time.
Back home, they lay down newspapers and spend the rest of their morning gutting and cleaning their pumpkins before drawing on the designs they intend to create. They work facing each other, neither wanting the other to see until their masterpieces are complete. The room is full of laughter and anticipation, each new experience they share adding to the overall feeling of wonder still so new to Carlisle.
When they're done, they turn them to face each other, laughing and exclaiming at the other's skill. Carlisle finds himself looking forward to his first real Halloween.
Back at work, Edward waits to hear about the job Charlotte mentioned, keeping it to himself around the other members of staff. He still isn't sure who is meant to be leaving – the night shift has a smaller staff and there is less room for idle chatter. The bookings are picking up again, the telephones ringing frequently in the evenings for the out of towners to make reservations for the upcoming winter festivals taking place around the area. Several calls get cut off due to bad weather affecting the signal. Edward returns any he can where the details are already stored.
Halloween dawns, the neighbourhood bedecked with pumpkins and scarecrows, ghoulish scenes laid out on lawns and front yards to scare the unwary once darkness falls. The night has been busy and Edward is looking forward to getting home just as soon as the day shift clock in.
A lady arrives, stamping the snow from her boots. She carries a small bag and appears to be alone, closing the door behind herself. She approaches the front desk and Edward greets her, ready to leave after the early check-in is completed. He nods in confirmation when she asks for him by name and sees her relief, her posture visibly slumping.
Reaching across the desk, she takes his hands, her desperation apparent.
"My boy, my Carlisle - you know where he is?"
Edward nods, struck dumb with realisation. He walks out from behind the desk to give her a degree of confidentiality in which to talk and in that moment he is enveloped in a tight hug, the sort that only a mother can truly give. He feels his eyes smart with tears and blinks hard before she can see. It is an emotional moment for the little boy who lost his mom so long ago.
"My boy – you love him? You look out for him?" She pulls back just enough to see his face, and Edward sees the pride and pain in hers.
"Yes." Despite his best intentions, his voice is wobbly and hitches.
She nods.
"I miss him so much. He just disappeared. His father, he is a proud man – he would not forgive. I asked him to track down our son, but he refused. Stubborn to the last, he wanted to wait until Carlisle contacted him. He wanted him to apologise, to beg for forgiveness. The worst is, I don't know even now if he would give it."
Edward pulls away, frowning.
"But Carlisle wrote to you many times. He told me his letters were all returned. He said he eventually gave up hope of hearing from you again."
Her face clouded, the colour draining, and Edward led her over to the seats across the lobby.
"Signora Benefici - are you saying your husband doesn't know you're here?"
She meets his gaze without wavering.
"I told him I was going to talk to someone who knew him. He raged and refused to allow it, but I knew what I wanted. I rang every Dragonfly Inn I could find listed until I heard your name. Then I packed a bag and booked a flight." She shrugs, taking a calming breath. "And here I am. Tell me please, will my son want to see me? Truly? I couldn't blame him if he didn't."
Her voice breaks then, close to tears. Edward feels her fear at that distinct possibility.
"I think you both have a lot to talk about. Do you want me to call him?" Her face falls. "Please Signora, with no response to my letter, he has convinced himself… I mean I-I don't know if he's ready…"
"Please, Edward. Take me to my son."
Her quiet pleading decides him.
They take a cab the short distance from the Inn to Edward and Carlisle's home, giving them both time to compose themselves and to decide what best to do.
Carlisle is in the kitchen, the inviting smell of coffee and toast hanging in the air. He is waiting for Edward to join in to decide how they will spend their morning together. Edward is hesitant, bordering on fearful, and leaves Signora Benefici on the doorstep while he goes inside to try and prepare his love for the shock to come. Carlisle appears, mug of coffee in hand, lighting up just like he always does when he sees Edward. His face goes from happy to puzzled in an instant, seeing his love standing, awkward and nervous, in the hallway.
"What's wrong?"
He automatically fears the worst. His mind ricochets from one bad scenario to another, all within a microsecond. It's as Edward fears. Stepping forward, he places his hands on Carlisle's shoulders, leaning in for his good morning kiss. Gathering his courage, he smiles into his lover's eyes.
"I have a surprise for you." The nervous energy generated by Carlisle is making him jittery. "Trust me?"
"Always." He swallows hard. "What is it?"
Rubbing his shoulders in a reassuring gesture, Edward turns and walks to the door, pulling it open.
"Please, come in."
Signora Benefici, every bit as trepidatious as her son, steps inside and gasps, dropping her luggage.
"Carlisle! My son!" Her arms stiffen, holding back for fear of rejection. Carlisle wobbles and Edward is quick to take the mug from his shaking hand, stepping back.
"Mama?"
That one word is all it takes. His mother dissolves into tears and rushes forward to embrace her boy. Edward is choked and leaves the room to gather himself, letting them have their private reunion. Carlisle sobs, happiness and shock a potent blend for any being, but in that instant Carlisle is once again a little boy being comforted by his loving mother.
Edward can hear his cries, can hear her soothing apologies while she holds him. After a few tense moments spent pacing the small lounge room, he hears his name. Wiping panic-dampened palms on his pants, he steps through the door to see them both at the bottom of the stairs, still locked in a tight hug, both smiling at him. Carlisle reaches out, grasping his love's hand and pulling him into the embrace. Locked together, the three of them stand for a long moment until Edward feels a kiss pressed to his temple. Unbidden scalding tears burn his eyes at the motherly gesture.
They do not speak for over a minute after which Edward excuses himself to the kitchen to make coffee for himself and their guest. He has no doubt that Carlisle will want another if only to counteract the shock.
Standing with his hands gripping the basin, he tries to hold it together – this is not about him. Keeping his hands busy and his mind occupied, he places mugs on the counter and pours freshly made coffee into them with a shaking hand. He clears up the spill in a mechanical manner, treating this as if he were at the Dragonfly. He had not expected this to affect him quite as deeply as it has. His joy at their reunion has opened a wound he has tried to ignore for so long. Telling his life story to Carlisle had been a necessary pain, one he had hoped to heal with time and love. This new unexpected jolt has caused raw pain, bright as a new, shiny penny, straight through his heart. Yet, he could never regret it. Carlisle's wounds went deeper still, and the only treatment is love, both his own and his mother's. They had much lost time to recover, bonds to repair and reforge, and from what he has seen they have made a strong start.
Drawing on his professional side, he steps out of the kitchen and addresses the lady of the hour.
"Signora – do you take milk and sugar?"
He watches her wipe her red eyes, delivering a dazzling smile.
"Both please, Edward. Thank you. And please, call me Sofia."
He carries the coffees into the lounge room and they follow. Carlisle is a mess of reddened eyes, flushed cheeks, and mussed hair. He radiates joy, and Edward is marvelling at the change in his love when he sees him heading straight for him, warm arms enfolding him so tight that they are almost one entity. It hasn't crossed Carlisle's mind to hide their relationship – in his happiness, his heart craves Edward and so he follows it, sharing his joy with the one he loves most of all. He can't know that Sofia already knows they are a couple and that this is not a shock to her. Indeed, when he catches her eye he sees her warm smile of acceptance and feels her happiness radiating toward them both. His world has changed beyond recognition in the space of a few minutes, and Edward is impressed with how well his love is coping with all these new experiences. It is like watching the petals of a rare and beautiful flower open to the sun after a long and bitter winter.
He mumbles into Carlisle's neck, needing to say it, needing to be sure.
"I was worried it was too soon, that you needed more time."
"You did the right thing – a delay would have given me time to worry. This… this is better than I could have ever hoped." His arms tighten around Edward, his whispered breath warm against his cheek. "You always know what's best for me. You're a miracle, Edward Masen – and I will always be thankful that you have stood by me when perhaps others thought I was too much of a risk."
Edward huffs. "Kate likes you."
"Maybe now she does. But no matter what you say, she was not my greatest cheerleader in the beginning."
Edward relaxes his hold and looks him in the eye. "She looks out for me. She didn't want to see me hurt. But by the same definition, she now believes in us. Because of you. You've impressed her and that's tough to do. She'll have your back now, I guarantee it. Or she'll have me to deal with." His grin is shy, his cheeks pink at the declaration. They sit, noticing Sofia's smile at their flushed cheeks and obvious affection.
For a moment there is silence until Sofia speaks.
"Carlisle, Edward tells me that you wrote to me, many times. My son, I am so very sorry to tell you that I never received them. Your father, you know how he is. So proud, so headstrong. I'm sure that if I asked him about them he would give me some story about it being for my own good, but I do not think that way." She dabs away a stray tear with a handkerchief.
"I looked for you, after what your father did. I wanted to make contact with you, even if it meant keeping it a secret from him. I contacted your college but they had no forwarding address for you. It was as if you just disappeared."
Her face is etched with pain at the memory and it is clear that Carlisle and she are cut from the same cloth – both feeling immense guilt and anguish.
Edward squeezes his hand and waits for him to speak. His voice is rough and raw.
"I thought that with what happened it would be better for all concerned if I brought no further shame on the family. I tried to do the honourable thing, to spare you."
Her be-ringed hands reach out and enfold his.
"And it meant I lost you, my only son, my beautiful boy. I never blamed you for any of it. I need you to know that. I know you too well, I understand you. About what happened back then…? I felt your pain, but never shame. Never."
Carlisle's head falls forward, his shoulders beginning to shake with fresh sobs. To hear the words he thought would never come is almost too much and yet they are the forgiveness his heart and soul so desperately need, cracking through the protective shell he has built around himself.
"You mean that?" The words are no more than a whisper.
She reaches out to stroke his face, smearing his tears. His eyes are shining with hope, his heart wide open.
"Of course. Would I lie?"
"No, Mama. You wouldn't."
"Then believe it. Oh, come here." She pulls him back into her arms and rocks him some more, her eyes pinched shut, a hand patting his back in comfort. Murmuring in Italian 'Ti amo, ragazzo mio,' she presses kisses to his forehead and hair before releasing him, stroking his hair back into place in a gesture that makes Edward's heart pang.
"So, what have you been doing out here in Maine? I suppose I expected you to be on staff at a major newspaper in somewhere like New York. That was always your dream."
To Edward's relief, he hears Carlisle's quiet chuckle.
"I tried New York. It didn't work out. Thankfully I was rescued," he gazes at an adoring Edward, "in every way."
Sofia looks from one to the other. "How did you two meet?"
They smile at each other. It's Carlisle who speaks.
"I guess I should start by saying that I write books now, and my publisher had booked me in at the Dragonfly to attend an event…"
~o.O.o~