Finally, Bella knows the truth. This picks up after Edward drops her off at home, when their time in the café has drawn to a close.
Bella, Chapter 8
I may never have been this tired in my entire life. Emotionally, I was as wiped out as any human could be. Human...ironic to choose that term now, considering I'd just spent the better part of the day with someone who, I finally knew for sure, was not.
At last, I had the explanation I'd pushed so hard to get. Since I'd felt for awhile that something about Edward was other-worldly, I wasn't surprised when he confirmed it. But accepting it and comprehending what it meant was much, much more difficult.
We weren't just different genders and personalities, we were different creatures. Separate species. Dissimilar beings. One of us is not dead, one of us is undead.
That wasn't all, though, oh no. He wanted my blood in an instinctive, primitive way. Me: flesh and blood. Him: I'll take the blood, hold the flesh.
And I thought my previous relationships were challenging.
As a kid, I'd read about vampires, and I remember the stories as a mixed bag of various canon. Those leisurely strolls through written fantasy are barely helpful now; since the myth had come alive for me, I was only starting to figure out what was accurate and what was truly fiction. I kept coming back to the same questions: "What does this mean for me? For us? Or even for him?" However long it took to find those answers, I knew this much right now: I wanted to be with Edward no matter what he is. I hoped I'd made that clear to him.
I finally met a man who had amazing qualities like compassion, intelligence and humor – things you don't find every day in anyone -- and he wasn't human. Upon further reflection, I shouldn't really be surprised at that, I thought sarcastically.
Faith clamored for attention and I scratched her head absent-mindedly before walking to the bathroom, peeling off my biking clothes. The only thing that might help was a bath; it wouldn't solve everything, but it could help me sleep.
The hot water felt heavenly. I climbed in and slid down until I was submerged to my shoulders. Did vampires need to bathe? I suppose they got some dirt and grime on them just from walking around, or whatever they did to occupy their time. Maybe they didn't care about personal hygiene, although Edward certainly smelled wonderful. If he did bathe, I had to ask him what soap he used.
I shook my head and laughed at the absurdity of it all. I liked a guy who was a vampire. He lived with a family of vampires, headed by a foster father who was a doctor and a vampire, too. With a start, I wondered how Dr. Cullen was able to work so successfully at his profession. He was around blood all the time, but as far as I knew, he'd never taken advantage of a bleeding patient. How did he resist? I had to ask Edward that as well.
I soaked in the bath, wishing I could rejuvenate my mind as easily as my body. Faith put her paws up on the tub and seemed interested in the water until she realized it was wet. I watched her dash out the door, no doubt to find someplace for her 10th or 12th nap of the day. I wanted her life, if only for a weekend.
Edward did indeed have a secret he needed to keep hidden from everyone, but he'd risked exposure a few times for me. Aside from that, he'd tried, in very human ways, to connect with me on some level other than wanting my blood. Getting to know him was an exercise in emotional whiplash: I like you, but I like your blood too much; I want to be with you, but it's dangerous for you to be with me.
The truth was, I was less frightened of Edward's admission that he wanted to kill me than I was of my own tendency to wallow in impossible situations. In past relationships, I'd fight against all kind of odds to keep things going when it was clearly useless. I'd done everything that a girl shouldn't do, like try to make myself into someone or something else, or put up with crap that no one should have to endure. Was my attraction to Edward just an extension of that?
Instinct told me that Edward was different, though, and not just because he wasn't human. There was something there instead of ego and selfishness, which I'd had enough of. Edward possessed an uncommon depth, a perceptiveness within his character that brought him way beyond the superficiality that was so commonplace. It was apparent that he'd suffered loss, and a great deal more, in his entire lifetime. Surely this made him more empathic, more able to understand the human condition even though he wasn't human anymore.
Already, I could see that I had to guard against trying to "save" him. That's another trap I fall into, and I wanted to avoid it. If he'd been immortal for however many years of his existence, he probably didn't want that anyway. I should keep my rescuing skills for other beings, like cats.
Why didn't he have a wife or girlfriend? (Should I be so certain that he didn't?) He'd told me that his parents and his brother were married, and that his sister Alice had a partner. So it seemed that in the vampire world, couplings were permitted. Wouldn't it be easier for him to have someone of his own kind? Why would he bother with a human like me? Was he confusing his desire for my blood with a romantic attraction? I hoped I'd figure that last one out before it was too late.
I climbed out of the tub and got into my pajamas. I'd resolved one matter: I would attend mass in the morning. I knew intuitively that time inside a contemplative, sacred space would soothe my emotional havoc. There was an Episcopal church in Forks with a service that didn't begin too early on Sunday. (One qualification of my admittedly avant-garde belief system: I cannot properly worship before 10 a.m., so I won't attend anything that starts until at least that hour.) When I suspected that Edward was a vampire, I began thinking of how that squared with my spirituality. It didn't threaten my belief in God or serve to deny His or Her existence. I've always felt that anyone who believes in a deity of love and power has to acknowledge the presence of another force that is evil and equally powerful. I was taught as a child to not even believe in the supernatural. Acknowledging the existence of those beings allegedly makes you vulnerable to their seduction. You're not supposed to want something that isn't good.
But Edward is good; he's clearly very different than any descriptions of his kind. He and his family defy their nature every day to keep from killing people. They did not seek the ability to live forever; immortality was forced upon them. Does that count for nothing?
Obviously, I can't discuss these issues with a priest. Episcopalians may be extraordinarily open-minded but they'd call the authorities if I explained the situation and asked for their help in dealing with it. And God knows – no pun intended – I'd often wondered myself lately if I was going insane. Is all this real? It seems so. But how do I know for sure?
That Sunday morning, I took a seat at the back of the church. It was a challenge for me to remain focused. This was not the fault of the service; the familiar antiphons were comforting and provided some of the normalcy I'd been seriously lacking these last weeks. My mind kept drifting, though, and to pull it back, I'd try to apply what was being said during the mass to my situation with Edward. I wasn't having much luck until an acolyte started reading from Romans:
"So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?...So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin."
It seemed to me that as far as ancient scriptures go, this was a pretty good description of the inner turmoil he dealt with all the time. He was constantly fighting the "sin" of his instincts while struggling as hard as he could to be the good man I saw so many times – the "inner being who delights in God's law." Conforming to that law meant he had to deny his natural impulses so he could spare my life, as well as others.
The second reading was from Paul's letter to the Corinthians:
"If anyone has caused grief...you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him... If you forgive anyone, I also forgive him. And what I have forgiven—if there was anything to forgive—I have forgiven in the sight of Christ for your sake, in order that Satan might not outwit us..."
Evil shall not outwit us, I mused. Forgiveness brings redemption and the ability to move on. It isn't just, "go and sin no more." (Or in our case, "go and be a vampire but be a good one" and "go and forgive whatever will be, because he's already loaded enough guilt and punishment upon himself and if you can't live with what it all means, you have no business entering into this.") I felt more composed just hearing, "you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow." I'd seen the burden of sorrow that Edward carried from something that happened to him a century ago, which he did not ask for and certainly does not want. In the final moments of the mass, I asked for the wisdom to know how to help him if I could, and the grace to hold back if I couldn't. It was a bit like my own personal version of the Serenity Prayer.
The priest was a lovely woman in her late 30s, and when the service was over, she shook everyone's hand. She looked at me quizzically, obviously noticing that I was a visitor. I took her hand, introduced myself as Bella and thanked her for the mass. I left promptly before anyone had the chance to ask if I wanted to join the parish, and because I could no longer fight the tears.
I got in my car and put the keys in the ignition but held off on starting the engine. I thought about all that had happened to me: my difficulties with my family, my less-than-successful relationships with men, my especially rough breakup with Bill, my relocation across the country to a place where I knew no one, and now, my connection with someone who was not technically alive, yet was more of a man than any other I'd known.
Most of the people who attended the service had left, so I was essentially alone in the parking lot. Consumed by fear, frustration and longing, I put my head against the steering wheel and cried. With no one to see me or ask what was wrong, I let the tears flow and the huge, hiccupping sobs come freely.
Selfishly, I cried first for myself, releasing the self-pity that was rapidly building. Of all the men in Washington State – of all the men in the world – I found the one who would, again, offer me the most problematic relationship. Was I a magnet for this kind of angst? Why couldn't I seem to live my life in a less complicated manner? Yeah, yeah, woe is me, I never get the good relationship karma that's sprinkled so freely over everyone else. Enough.
Once I got past that, I cried for Edward. The more I came to know him, the more I saw how much my life was, in fact, blessed compared to his. Rather than feel guilty for my own fortune, I appreciated his efforts to lead a non-violent, normal life in what was truly an abnormal existence. It seemed clear that he wanted a regular, loving relationship with someone, and without a doubt, he deserved that. I recognized again, with deep approbation, the risks he'd taken to be honest with me. Most guys only dread rejection based on personality, appearance, or even more petty things. Edward had to worry about revealing the very essence of his being, out of fear for his own safety and that of his family. That was a heavy layer indeed to place on top of the usual fear of being spurned.
I wanted to vow that this was the last time I'd cry over this, but that was probably pointless. Instead, I promised to be strong, try to keep my head on straight, and not make any judgment without solid information. If I demanded that he listen to me and what I wanted, I had to listen to him, too, and take him seriously when he cautioned me on the inherent dangers of life with a vampire. Plus, I'd have to acknowledge what he already knew: there were a lot of things I wouldn't have if we were together. I had to really see those, instead of focusing only on the things I'd gain. I needed to do that for myself and for Edward.
The rest of my day was spent at home, trying to relax and be good to myself. I read a few Sunday papers and a book, then started on a pot of marinara sauce. Cooking usually helps me stay calm and focused; it keeps me busy without tiring me out.
I was washing dishes when I glanced out the window, enjoying the view of the trees and the reddening horizon of twilight. An unusual shape caught my eye. It was mostly gray, and way too large to be in a tree. I saw at once that it was Edward.
Bolting through my back door, I called out to him quietly through gritted teeth. Was he spying on me? Why? A dark doubt unfolded in the back of my mind: was he planning some sort of sneak attack? Once I saw the sheepish look on his face, however, I knew he wasn't up to anything deadly. The spying part was probably accurate, though. I'd just busted him.
And apparently, this was something he'd been doing for awhile. He admitted to me that he'd been coming into my apartment nearly every night for the past few months.
Nearly every night? Without my permission, without my even knowing about it? What could possibly make him think that would be okay? For the second time since I first encountered Edward, I was afraid of him. Here I was, trying to accept his primal instinct to kill me for my blood, and he's been stalking me.
Annoyed, I inquired as to why he didn't just call me or otherwise ask if he could come over. He was shocked that I would offer that; I was shocked when he said he'd never considered those conventional methods because he thought I hated him. I softened more when he explained that his unusual appearance, his cold skin, and his anger the first time we met made him certain I could feel nothing but repugnance for him. He never considered the possibility that he hadn't alienated me.
We talked more about the hazards of being together. He stressed over and over again that he remained dangerous to me, more so because my blood had a particular attraction for him, and I could see in his eyes, and even the way he held himself, how much he hated having to say it. From what I knew of Edward, he would never be so irresponsible as to fail to warn me, repeatedly, of what his presence could mean for me.
I knew he was doing the right thing in telling me all this. And I knew I had just promised myself I would give a fair hearing to all his concerns. All the same, I was devastated by his words. I heard only the bad and skimmed past the good: when he talked about how many of my qualities he saw, and made it clear that he cared for me. Occasionally, he looked at me like he was ready to forget every problem or negativity, only to resume his litany of cautions. I felt as if something was pulling on my limbs, dragging me down and tearing at the hope that if he'd come here at all, there must be something we could build on.
He seemed overwhelmed at my sadness, and before I had the chance to comprehend what was happening, he gently put his hand to my cheek. The hard chill of his skin barely registered; I couldn't think of anything but the loving tenor of his touch as he cradled my face. For once, he had reached for me first, and it was natural, good, comforting. I kept my eyes closed, feeling immediately calmer, and I stopped crying.
Edward left shortly after that, firmly reminding me that it was late and I had to work the next day. He started to say something at the same moment I asked him if he would return tomorrow when I came home from the hospital. With a smile, he said, "I was just asking you if I could come back after work on Monday."
"I'd like that. I have so many questions." I sighed, my voice still a little shaky from crying. "Also, I like your company. Faith, not so much, but she'll get used to you." I returned his smile.
Edward's grin grew broader. "I'm glad she'll have the opportunity." He walked out the door and disappeared into the night.
I washed the dishes and floated off to sleep, falling into a deeper, more peaceful slumber than I'd had in weeks.
When my alarm went off the next morning, I groaned out of habit and – as had also become routine these past several days – wondered if the previous night really happened or I'd dreamed it. I ambled into the kitchen to start the coffee and glanced outside. The deck chairs were still scattered haphazardly; I'd shoved them out of the way when I darted outside to look for Edward after I spotted him in the trees. I suppose that was as good a confirmation as any, since Edward was practiced at leaving no trace of his presence. He'd been here for many nights, he'd said, and scrupulously left everything exactly as I'd placed it in my apartment. I wondered how long he stayed here at night. Maybe he did sleep during the day; it could be that he was nocturnal because he worked overnight. I'd have to ask him about that, too.
Traffic was light and it wasn't raining, so I arrived at work a little early. I punched in the access digits for the pharmacy door and waited in vain for the buzzer to sound. It was Monday, which meant the code had changed. On Friday, they give us new numbers to use the following week; it was frequently switched for security purposes. For the first time, I'd completely forgotten that.
I winked at Rick and gave him a big smile, then turned down the wattage as I said good morning to Janice. She nodded her head and murmured something in return. Things hadn't improved much with her, but it bothered me less and less. Rick was right: Janice simply disliked change, and almost all of her problems with people derive from that. She and I spent the morning in our usual silence, save for whatever communication was absolutely necessary on work matters. There were other things I preferred to dwell on, anyway.
"Hey Bella?"
I was thinking about what Edward and I would do that evening – probably talk more. Even though he didn't eat, we could have plenty of conversation while I made dinner for myself, as we did last night.
"Bella?"
Would he use the door today, or drop out of the trees again? He'd have to be careful not to scare Mrs. Farrelly, although he was usually good at camouflaging himself.
"Bella!"
It was Rick, trying to get my attention. He'd waited until Janice went to lunch to say that I'd neglected to initial some prescriptions I'd filled.
"Whoa. Jeez, I'm so sorry," I mumbled in embarrassment.
He looked at me, confused. "Are you okay? This is definitely not like you."
I smiled earnestly for Rick's benefit. "Yes, I guess I'm tired."
Mollified, he nodded his head. "Okay. Just checking. Here, you also have to sign off on this Cipro 'script for the medical unit."
Every so often, I glanced at Edward's desk. For most of my time here, it had been a hurtful reminder of our tenuous connection. That used to bother me far more than the problems I'd had with Janice. Now, I could look at it and not dread the next time I'd see him, or even wonder when that would be. Simply eliminating the uncertainty lifted an enormous weight off of me. Even if I didn't know what would happen in the long run, I had a better grasp of the present. Studying the small amount of belongings on his spare desktop was almost comforting instead of frustrating.
The last hour of work on Monday was torture. After I had filled my final prescription, given a verbal report to the evening shift and filed away some paperwork, I raced out at 4 p.m. I arrived home at 4:15, hung up my coat and quickly changed my clothes. Calm down. I pulled a thawed chicken breast out of the refrigerator and prepared herbs and olive oil for baking it. The chicken shot out of my hand like a rocket when I smoothed the mixture over it. Calm DOWN.
Promptly at 4:30, I heard a soft knock. I opened the upstairs door and there was Edward, nervously watching me from under those long eyelashes. Ridiculous, that this striking man had come to my home to spend time with me. I giggled in delight and I could see him relax, his shoulders settling softly. In a few seconds, his smile matched my own.
"Well, hi. You've chosen a more conventional arrival today," I said teasingly.
Edward gave a formal nod and said, "I thought it best not to frighten the neighbors. Or you."
"Very considerate. May I take your jacket?" He handed me the grey pea coat he'd also been wearing last night, and I walked into my bedroom to lay it on the bed, inhaling heavily all the way. God, he smelled so good.
He was sitting at the table, and I'd swear I saw his face brighten when I returned to the kitchen. "Am I interrupting your dinner again?" he asked solicitously.
"It's really not a problem. I hope you don't mind if I work on preparing it. I thought we could talk here at the same time," I replied.
"That sounds fine," Edward said softly, smiling again. My knees may have become a little weak at this point.
He asked about work, and I told him of the assignments that came in during the typically busy Monday, omitting any description of my forgetfulness. I returned to the stove to check on the food, and Edward walked into my living room to look closely at a rendered photo I had of my grandparents.
"Are these relatives of yours?" he asked curiously.
"Yes, they're my father's parents. It was taken right when they were married, in the mid-1930s."
"I thought so," he mused. "You take after your grandmother a great deal – physically, at least."
I chuckled. "I've heard that a lot. I don't mind at all, though. I hope I take after her in other ways, too. She's a real sweetheart, very loving and caring."
Edward turned to me and smiled. "That sounds like you." I blushed and struggled to get that under control, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
He came back to the table as I took my dinner plate and sat down. "I know you said you have a lot of questions, but I should warn you, I have a fair number of things I'd like to know about you too," he said in a mock menacing tone.
"Oh, I think you already know the important stuff," I said.
Eyebrows raised, he asked, "Such as?"
"I like cats, I ride a bike and hang around in cemeteries, and I have a knack for ticking off spinster coworkers," I said.
He nodded circumspectly. "Don't forget your cozy relationship with inanimate objects."
I brought the fork near my mouth and held it there, regarding him coolly. "So that's how it is, huh? No mention of my cooking abilities? You go straight for the klutziness."
Edward laughed. It was a wonderful sound. I loved how light he seemed once he came into my drab little apartment.
"I regret very much that I can't speak of your culinary talent through experience. Your clumsiness is another matter."
"Point taken," I replied. I finished my dinner and moved to the sink to take care of the dishes. Edward rose and looked around.
"Do you have a dish towel somewhere?"
"Over there," I said, pointing to the counter opposite the stove. I wondered briefly if he'd spilled something, maybe at vampire speed so I didn't notice. Instead, he came and stood next to me, waiting to dry off the dishes.
I laughed nervously. "You really don't have to do that."
"I know. I'd like to give you a hand with these."
I would never turn down an offer to assist with housework, especially if it came from a man. "Okay."
His eyes widened. "Are you actually accepting my help without fighting me? Exactly what did you eat tonight?"
"Smart aleck," I grumbled.
We did the dishes in silence for a moment or two, and I braced myself for a barrage of questions. I'd already tried to come up with responses for some of the things I was certain he'd ask, like why I was bawling in a church parking lot on Sunday morning. Instead, he started with basic geography.
"Tell me about New Jersey," he said as he rubbed the dinner plate dry.
I frowned in concentration, as if I was about to explain the weightiest secret in history. "It's not as bad as you think. In fact, that should be the state motto. What else would you like to know?'"
"Where did you grow up? Please describe it to me."
So I began tell him about the small city where I'd spent my childhood. The houses were not large, and they were very close together. There was a lot of love and fun all around us; my best friends were several blocks away, or at most, a bike ride to another part of town. It wasn't a wealthy area by any means. Most of the other families were solid working class, like mine. I attended the local public high school, although my parents sent me and my siblings to a Catholic grammar school.
"That explains your sense of responsibility and your questioning nature in equal measure," Edward said thoughtfully. His face held that particular look of satisfaction I'd seen when he'd figured something out about me.
The dishes were put away, and I hung the towels up to dry. "I don't know if you could say I was a daydreamer, but I was usually off in some other world. The classes that were hardest for me are those where I had to learn a lot of facts and memorization, like history. I did well in math, though, and the sciences. I think that's because I looked at science as something that wasn't static. You learn some of the principles, but you apply them to problems to figure things out. They are all a means to an end, and to understand."
Edward nodded. "So you were attracted to the sciences for its possibilities."
I thought for a moment. "That sounds right. I didn't want to go into research, though, and I knew I wouldn't be a good nurse or doctor, so I settled on studying pharmacy."
"Why did you think you couldn't be a doctor or nurse?"
With a small smile, I said, "I'm pretty squeamish. I get a little queasy at the sight of blood, my own or anyone else's." I sighed. "I know, I'm like Captain Irony or something."
Edward was already laughing. "No, that's perfect. It's exactly in line with everything else about you." He resumed asking about my home, my interests as a child, my schooling and my friends.
I tried to describe why I didn't have a large group of friends but rather, a small number of them that I held on to over the years. There have been a couple of people from high school who I am in touch with periodically, but the friends I'm closest to are those from my college years.
"I think I found people who saw at least some of my qualities and stuck with me because of that. As the saying goes, they know me and they love me anyway," I added.
He looked at me in surprise. "Really? I don't see many quirks. Well," he amended, "aside from the clumsiness and the attraction to cemeteries and other undead things." Edward smiled slyly. I was glad that he could joke about that; it made it easier on both of us.
"I'm an introvert, and it's pretty hard for me to extend myself to people. I still wonder how I actually wound up moving so far away from New Jersey. The whole experience has been way out of my comfort zone," I mused.
Edward seemed as if he was going to pursue that point, but chose another topic. He asked questions about my siblings, where we'd vacationed when I was a kid, and even when I'd obtained my driver's license.
The novelty of all this wore off after a few hours. "When is it my turn to ask you questions?" I complained.
"Maybe tomorrow," he replied. We were again sitting in my living room; I held a hot mug of tea over my lap.
"Maybe tomorrow?" I said in disbelief.
"Oh, I'm nowhere near finished."
I made a face. "I hate being the center of attention."
"The chances of that happening are pretty good when there's only one other person with you."
I laughed. "I'm getting tired of talking."
Smiling indulgently, he said, "It is getting late. Okay, you can take one turn."
"You don't seem very bothered by the cold. Is that typical for you?" I tried to phrase my question so I didn't sound ignorant or insulting.
"No, temperature doesn't affect us much. We know if it's hot or cold, of course, but we don't react to it the way you do."
I tried to imagine it. "Is it as if you're experiencing it from a distance? Or that you're aware of it, but it's not unpleasant or good in any particular way?"
He smiled. "Yes, that's an accurate way to put it.
"Rain, too? I mean, I'm sure you feel it, but do you feel uncomfortable if you get completely soaked?"
"Only in the sense that wet clothes are an inconvenience, a bit of a drag on us. We don't get chilled the way humans do."
"Huh. Well, that's an advantage when you're living in Forks."
"It's why we came here," he added.
"For the rain?"
"For the nearly constant overcast skies."
I thought about the vampire lore I'd known my whole life. "You can't go out in the sun?"
"No, we can't."
I cleared my throat, a little nervously. "From what I understand, sunlight is fatal to immortals."
He laughed. "That's not exactly true. It's more that going out in the sun would reveal us for what we are. I promise I'll show you when the weather gives us the chance."
I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually seen the sun for any length of time here, but the thought of going out in warm sunlight with Edward was very appealing, no matter when that happened. "I guess we'd have to make sure no one else is around, then," I said.
"Right. There's a place I often go to when the weather is good. I'll take you there," he promised, before noting the time. "I should probably go. It's really getting late, and I know you have to work tomorrow."
"Can I ask about something else? Just one, please?" I pleaded with him.
His gaze grew tender and he said, sighing, "Go ahead, then."
That worked out well. I should have pleaded ages ago. "You said you came here almost every night. Now, we've already had our discussion about the propriety of it, so I'll skip that part. But I've been wondering..." I leaned forward earnestly. "What did you do here? Did you stay all night? When did you sleep? Did you fall asleep here?"
"That's four questions," he pointed out.
"Now stop that. Take them in order, as you did last night," I instructed him.
"As you wish. I sat in your room with you and watched you sleep."
I blinked in disbelief. "Really? That's boring."
He laughed. "Not at all, not to me."
"Why?"
"That's another question. No freebies."
I made a face at him. "Well, continue then."
"I usually stayed until it got close to the time when you had to wake up. On weekends I stayed a little longer, having seen very early on that you like to sleep in on Saturday and Sunday," Edward said, smiling.
"I can take your last two questions at once," he added. "I didn't sleep while I was here because I don't sleep."
Shocked speechless, I stared at him. "Ever? At all?" I finally said. He opened his mouth to reply and I said, "Yes, I know that's two more questions. Please."
Affectionately, he grinned again and said, "No, I don't sleep. Ever, or at all, during the day or night. None of us do."
I glanced down into my mug, not sure of what to say next. "No wonder you do so well on the night shift." I looked up at him again. "And no wonder you seemed so uncomfortable when I asked you about it when we were at work together, all those weeks ago."
Edward nodded. "I really didn't want to get into it right there. Now you know why."
There was something eminently gratifying about having these missing pieces come together. "I'm sorry if I put you on the spot," I said slowly, taking a drink of tea.
"It's okay. You didn't know. Besides, I do get those questions periodically. I can usually extract myself from a situation if people ask too much," he assured me.
"But how can you not sleep? Don't you need the rest? How do you rejuvenate yourself?" I asked wonderingly. Edward's eyebrows raised playfully.
"Come. On. You can't just drop that major piece of information and expect to leave," I protested. "I answered a ton of your questions."
"Actually, I'm not sure I have answers for you. We never get tired. The lack of sleep doesn't affect our strength, speed, or any of our senses. I don't know why that is. I have to assume it's related to our predatory nature. However we were created, we were given the gift – or the curse, depending on how you look at it – of having absolutely no end to our days. The sun sets and it becomes night, but it makes no difference to us," Edward responded.
My eyes widened as I thought about what he'd just told me. "Wow. What do you do with all that time?"
"There's no short answer to that, and I'm sure it relates to the other questions you want to ask me, so it will have to wait for another time," he said firmly.
"Tomorrow?" I said, a little too eagerly.
"I'd like that," he said quietly. The smile I wanted to see so much of appeared again. I didn't think I'd ever tire of it.
I stood up to get his coat, unaware at first that he was following me into my bedroom. When I turned around he was standing right in front of me, his eyes burning, an unreadable expression on his face. I drew in a lengthy breath, meeting his gaze. My fingers dug into the wool of his coat as if they were hanging on for dear life.
Slowly, hesitantly, he brought his hand up near my face. With a gentle movement, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, stroking a couple of times so that it stayed in place. His palm move to my face, cradling my cheek as he'd done last night. I leaned in to it and closed my eyes. My warm skin molded to his cool touch, and I could feel my pulse race. After a minute, I shifted his jacket and covered his hand with my own.
I could have stood there all night without moving, although it lasted only a few minutes. I opened my eyes, searching his face as if I was memorizing it, to take that vision with me when I went to sleep. I wished so much that we would kiss at that moment, but I sensed it might be too much for him. Difficult as it was, I knew I had to let him take the lead on anything physical.
"Bella," he said, his voice low and strained.
"Is this okay?" I murmured.
"Yes...no." He turned away from me, moving as if to leave. "I want more," he said plaintively. "I'm just not sure..."
"Then we'll wait until you are." I knew exactly how he felt. I wanted to let him set the pace. And in an odd way, it suited me and my lack of confidence. If I didn't have to initiate much, I would worry less about him rejecting me.
We walked to the door and he turned to say goodbye. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, wanting to touch him one more time. It seemed as if this would be alright for him, since we'd done that before.
He lifted my hand and kissed it.
I was so shocked my mouth fell open. Edward froze for a second, as if he'd done something inappropriate. I managed a weak smile and said, "That was really nice. Thank you."
He smiled in relief and said softly, "Goodnight, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow."
And then he was gone, like a good dream you'd want to have linger long past the sound of the alarm clock.
Tuesday and Wednesday followed in the exact same way: I went to work, got through each day by forcing myself to pay extra attention to everything I had to do, and became progressively more fidgety as the hours wore on. When I arrived home, I quickly changed and started to prepare dinner before Edward arrived promptly at 4:30.
"What does your family think of all this?" I asked curiously on Tuesday. Despite his warning that he had a lot to ask me, he let me slip in my own questions here and there.
"They have varying opinions on it," he said warily.
"Not everyone approves, then," I surmised.
His face hardened briefly. "They don't have to."
"Yes, but they must have some concerns, similar to the ones you've expressed time and again." We were in the kitchen, and I looked at him intently while stroganoff heated on the stove.
Rather than respond directly to that, Edward said, "I'd like to bring you to my house to meet them."
I almost dropped the plate I was carrying. "Really? To meet your family?"
He smiled mischievously. "Worried?"
"Well, yeah. What if they don't like me?"
Edward shook his head in disbelief. "That's really your first concern: that they won't like you?"
"If it put me in any danger, you wouldn't offer to bring me there," I said with certainty.
He looked pensive, but it disappeared in a second. "I'm old fashioned enough to want to bring home the woman with whom I've been spending my recent evenings. How about Saturday? I have to work overnight, but there'll be plenty of time before that."
"Sure," I said without hesitating. That gave me the rest of the week to worry myself into knots about what to wear, what to say, and so on and so forth. "Can I bring anything?"
Edward stared at me, amused. "Like what?"
I walked to the table with my dinner. "I don't know! I was hoping you'd have some suggestions."
He laughed. "Just you. You are enough." Still smiling, his eyelids closed slightly, intensifying his stare.
I couldn't answer right away. There had been a lot of these little moments in the past couple of days, and I was learning to take it slow and enjoy them. We sat in comfortable silence for a minute, until I remembered I had a dinner to eat.
In spite of my distaste for talking about myself, I really enjoyed the time with Edward. He was simply a great companion, and wonder of wonders, he listened very carefully to everything I said. Whenever he didn't understand something, he questioned me further, though never in a challenging way. I got the sense he was trying to understand me and learn more about me.
I was happily thinking that we'd just made plans to be together on the weekend when I realized that tomorrow was Thursday, and I had my tutoring session. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about tomorrow night. Have I mentioned that I tutor in a literacy program? I have to meet with my student in the evening."
Edward looked impressed. "No, I didn't realize you did. That's really wonderful. Where do you meet?"
"In La Push, on the Indian reservation. I work with Rick's fiancee at the rec center there."
He widened his eyes briefly before composing his expression. "I see. What time is your session?"
"It's 7:30, but I usually leave home around 7. Most of the time, I'm back by 9. Is something wrong?" I asked.
"No, no," he said, trying to dismiss my concerns. "Would it be too late if I stopped by when you arrived home, even for an hour or so?
"Not at all; I'd like that." I didn't think I'd ever get over the look of contentment – no, the look of happiness – that appeared on Edward's face whenever I said I wanted to see him. I didn't think his feelings ran as deeply as mine, but it was good to know something really was there on his part.
My weekly sessions with Wendell were going very well; he was progressing rapidly thanks to his hard work and conscientiousness. Wendell always did his homework, always came prepared to our lesson. I really couldn't ask for a better student.
Ellen was teaching a student of her own before Wendell arrived, so I had to wait until we were finished to talk to her. I anticipated seeing her as much as I loved the lesson itself. "Hey Ellen! How've you been?"
She dashed over to give me a hug. "Hey, Bella! I'm doin' fine; how are you?"
We talked for a bit before I remembered that I'd asked her to listen for any word about Jacob.
"I haven't seen or heard from him in a couple of weeks," she said, shaking her head. "I also haven't heard of any problems at home, or anything like that. So that's good, I guess. He might just be busy with work and school."
"I hope so." I frowned. Maybe I should stop at the store again to see him. Not tonight, though.
"I'd love to stay and talk some more, but I've got to head out now," I said, glancing at my watch.
"Got a hot date?" she asked teasingly.
I stood still where I was for a second, realizing that my usual reply of "Yeah, right" wasn't exactly true here. Ellen did a double-take when she saw me, and said, "Holy moly, you do!" She ran back over to me eagerly. "Spill, girl. NOW."
"Uh...well, I'm not really sure..." I stammered. Ellen glared at me impatiently. and spread her hands out in a "what are you waiting for?" gesture.
"I guess...I think I'm seeing someone," I said slowly.
She nodded her head. "Now we're making progress. Who?"
Was it okay to talk about this? Edward and I had discussed a few possibilities to get out of my apartment, like going to movies or museums, weather permitting. I suppose there wouldn't be a problem if we went public.
"Edward Cullen." I waited for her reaction.
Her eyes grew large with surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. I think. It's pretty early." Suddenly, I became extremely nervous that I was either jinxing this, or worse, somehow causing trouble for Edward. "But look, I haven't said anything to anyone. Not even to Rick. It's so recent, I guess I don't want to say anything out of turn." I looked at her significantly.
"Okay, I get it. Rick likes him, though," she said, as if that was enough for her.
"Do you know him?"
"No, I've only met his dad. I've seen Edward, though. He. Is. Gorgeous," she said, eyebrows raised.
I laughed. "Oh, yeah, but more important – no, seriously..." I said, seeing the look on her face. "He's a really good guy," I said quietly.
"He'd better be, if he's dating you," she said severely. "If he doesn't treat you as well as you deserve, I'll get this whole tribe after him."
I wasn't sure if she knew the implications of those words. "That's kind of a...well, you know, some of the Quileutes aren't very fond of the Cullens." I dropped my voice to a whisper. "So, I guess that's why I've not exactly been broadcasting it. Not that I believe the stories," I added hastily. "I just don't want any trouble, I guess."
She nodded her head. "Got it. Do you think you'll tell Rick, though?" I was relieved she'd leave that up to me.
"Yes, but not right away. Let's see how things go."
"Sure. Your call." Her face brightened. "Hey, maybe some time the four of us could go out together."
I grinned at her enthusiasm. "Ellen, that would be absolutely great."
I arrived home around five minutes after 9 to see Edward's Volvo in front of the house. By the time I'd backed my car into the driveway to its usual parking spot, he was standing next to the driver's side door.
"Hi. I hope you haven't been waiting long," I said apologetically.
"Not at all. I got here right at 9," he said, smiling. I thought I detected relief in tone, and in his expression. "How did your lesson go?"
"Very well," I said, fishing around the bottom of my purse to find my keys. "I have an excellent student. He's very motivated, and that makes my work a thousand times easier."
We arrived upstairs and I left my purse and teaching materials on a kitchen chair. It was becoming a habit for me to take his coat, and for him to follow me in the bedroom at the end of each night when I went to retrieve it. Last evening, he'd cradled my entire face in both hands for several minutes, and we'd stood there quietly looking at each other. Each second we had together every night was stored securely in my mind so I could recall any of them with complete clarity, whenever I wanted. The moments in my room were by far the sweetest, and the ones I relived the most.
We sat in the living room, after Edward made sure that I didn't need to make myself something to eat. I thought it a bit odd that he would pay such close attention to something he didn't even need to do for himself, but at the same time, he seemed to be asking out of consideration, so I didn't remark on that.
"What made you decide to become involved in tutoring?"
"I worked with the Literacy Volunteers of America when I lived in New Jersey. I love to read, and I can't stand the thought of someone else being deprived of it, frankly," I said. Edward tilted his head and smiled gently, as if he was appreciating what I said.
"Why the reservation?"
"When I met Rick on my first day at work, he mentioned that Ellen headed the program in La Push," I explained. "I didn't really care where the lessons were, and if they needed someone there, I was ready. It's worked out well," I noted.
Edward didn't say anything, so I pushed the subject a little. "You seem curious about this…almost anxious, really," I observed.
He glanced at me sideways, those disconcerting golden eyes looking as if I'd caught him at something. "You remember the Quileute legends we discussed in the Forks Café?"
"Sure." I shivered, thinking back on the events of that afternoon.
"The wolf that confronted us that day in the cemetery is from the Quileute tribe. I'm a little concerned about you going to La Push with young werewolves running around."
I had a blanket over my lap and I played with the fringe, frowning at his words. "If a wolf didn't attack me then, why would one come after me at the rez when I'm with people from the tribe?"
"Werewolves are very unpredictable, and extremely violent," Edward replied gravely. "They've been known to charge with very little provocation, especially if they're inexperienced."
"Why would they attack, though? I'd certainly never give them a reason to…oh. Do you think they would come after me because of you?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Werewolves and vampires are mortal enemies. I have no idea how they'd react if they knew I've been coming here every night this week." Edward scowled, staring at me intently. "I worry about you going there, especially because I can't go with you."
"But I know people there now. There's my student, and Ellen. And Jacob Black and his father," I added.
Edward's nostrils flared. "Yes. Jacob," he almost snarled
"What do you mean?" I asked, mystified by his tone.
"I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you, since you know about the legend and the treaty we have with the tribe. The wolf that was in the cemetery last weekend was Jacob Black," he replied.
"That was Jacob?" I spluttered.
"Yes. Somehow he knew you were there, and when he saw me, he assumed I would attack you. He left when he saw you walk over to me and realized I wouldn't hurt you," Edward said.
I must have grown way too accustomed to the mythical world that existed within Forks, because my immediate reaction was not Someone I've hung out with is a werewolf or even This vampire I'm seeing can hear a werewolf's thoughts. Instead, the first thing that came to my mind was, Great. Now someone else is stalking me.
"Jacob would never hurt me," I said firmly.
"They can't always stop themselves, Bella. They have very little restraint, especially when they've only started transforming," he replied.
"Edward, I don't think there's anything to worry about. I'm not on the reservation much at all," I said, trying to calm his fears. He really did seem uneasy.
"I'm very glad to hear you say that. I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you," he murmured.
I blushed, touched and thrilled by his concern. "Please. I'll be fine," I said brightly. Changing the subject slightly, I said, "What exactly was the wolf saying?" I couldn't bring myself to refer to the animal as Jacob. "You mentioned that you heard his thoughts."
Edward was unwilling to go into great detail. "He warned me to stay away from you, and thoughtfully provided several reminders that he is allowed to come here to Forks, but we are not permitted to venture onto reservation land," he said sarcastically.
I bristled inwardly. The wolf – Jacob – had no business making assumptions about me or my life. I didn't care if he wanted to protect me, he could have seriously hurt Edward. Maybe I'd have to say something to Jacob the next time I saw him, although I refrained from mentioning that right now.
Faith caught my attention; she came and sat down at the edge of the living room, right where it bordered the kitchen. I expected her to growl and hiss at Edward, but she merely regarded the both of us as we sat on the couch, staring back at her. I chuckled a little and looked at Edward, who of course knew immediately when she was there. We waited, but Faith made no sounds of protest or fear. After a few minutes she stood up and sauntered off aimlessly down the hall. I grinned and gave Edward the thumbs-up sign.
"Well, I'm glad to see you're okay. I know it's late, so I should go," he said reluctantly. The sadness on his face cleared, and he said, "May I come over again tomorrow?"
"I wish you would," I said simply.
We walked to my room, my heart a thundering drum of anticipation. I was certain Edward heard it as strongly as I felt it. My cheeks betrayed me too, the blush burning through them and spreading down my neck.
"Your coat, sir," I said, handing it over to him. Edward smiled back at me, then suddenly appeared very serious. He took my hand and I glanced up expectantly. Edward had inclined his head toward me slightly. Was he...? I felt dizzy.
"Please hold very still," he whispered.
I nodded and then remembered that wasn't doing as he'd asked.
"Just...don't move."
I made a slightly strangled noise of assent and watched as his face moved slowly to mine. My eyes felt huge; I could tell they were open as wide as possible, and then involuntarily they closed as Edward placed his lips very gently on mine.
I inhaled sharply and tried to keep my wits about me. My hand was still in his, and I was clutching it as hard as I could hold anything. I ached to put my arms around him and kiss him back, to finally pair the physical yearning with the fierce emotions that had been building for months. I inclined my head forward just a fraction, unable to completely resist moving into his lips, and felt him draw back slightly.
I stopped then, not wanting him to pull completely away. Instead I concentrated on the cool sensation of his mouth and the smoothness of his lips flush against my own. The chill of his skin did nothing to discourage the heat between us. Warmth spread throughout my body; some of it was arousal, but some of it was a purely joyous reaction to this new connection. I sighed and heard a slight moan that I was pretty sure came from Edward. I began edging my way closer to him again when I could feel him shut down, and he drew back.
I opened my eyes and saw the look of triumph on his face. My own restraint took every fragment of willpower I could muster, so I could only imagine how difficult it was for him. He had even more to fight against.
"That was lovely," I whispered. I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, or if there was anything I should say. Some instinct told me to acknowledge what I felt, out loud, and those words seemed the least complicated way to express it.
He nodded. "Yes, it was. I've been missing that in my life. I've been missing you in my life," he whispered back.
"I'm so glad I moved here," I said.
"I think, for about the hundredth time, I am too," he said.
I was still gripping his hand and I suddenly dropped it. He quickly glanced at me, a puzzled look on his face.
"I thought maybe I was crushing your bones," I mumbled awkwardly.
Edward smiled sadly. "You couldn't. If anything, I have to worry about that with you." He leaned over again and placed another gentle kiss on my cheek, lingering there for just a moment.
We said our goodnight and I closed the door quietly, wishing I could condense tomorrow's working hours into about five minutes so the day would end soon and I could come right home to be with Edward. There seemed to be a pretty substantial supernatural population in the Forks region; I wondered if I could find a time traveler and take lessons.
He was helping me dry my dinner dishes again on Friday evening when he said, "Are you still willing to come to my house tomorrow?"
I gulped. "Of course."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm just nervous."
He looked hopeful. "Are you finally frightened?"
"I'm only scared they won't like me."
Edward rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you'd be worried about that. Your priorities are a little off. "
He insisted on picking me up at 6 o'clock on Saturday, even though I offered to drive myself to his home. Edward seemed almost offended that I believed he would find that acceptable.
"Besides, you don't know where I live," he said, grinning. It was Saturday evening and he was driving, fast, south on Route 101, the Volvo's tires whispering in the light rain. I clutched the sides of the seat, a bouquet of flowers on my lap.
"You didn't have to buy those, you know, although it is a very nice gesture," he said, looking at me fondly.
"Normally, I'd bring some type of food, but I didn't have time to catch a deer or an elk or anything like that," I said.
Edward laughed. "You are funny. Emmett's going to like you."
"Emmett is the sports editor?"
"Yes. He's married to Rosalie. You've already seen Alice; her spouse, I guess you could say, is Jasper. And of course you know Carlisle. Esme will adore you," he said.
Edward sounded so cheerful – eager, even, about all these impending introductions. "I hope so," I squeaked.
He gave me a sidelong glance. "You really are concerned about that, aren't you?"
"Well, sure. This means a lot to me. I want them to like me," I said.
He took my hand gently. Everything about him was so tender when he was with me; it was difficult to imagine he had to be mindful of the brute strength that held him back. I loved that he was gradually becoming more free about touching me.
"I'm very happy you're willing to do this," he said.
We pulled off the highway on to a gravel road and drove for what seemed like miles. When the mansion came into view, the road became paved again, ending in a circular drive near the home's enormous entrance.
The house was an elegant Federal-style structure which appeared to date back to the mid-1800s. It was pale blue, with the trim and shutters painted white – an accurate color scheme for buildings from that era. An enormous, perfectly manicured green lawn surrounded the sidewalk by the main entrance. I sat there, staring, until I realized Edward was standing patiently at the car door, probably waiting for verification that I was still conscious.
"This is absolutely beautiful," I said breathlessly.
"Esme deserves a lot of the credit. She enjoys restoring older buildings, and since this is our home, she put the most of her sizeable talents into it," he said.
Waist-high bushes lined the front of the house and the rim of the sidewalk. A riot of vines with colorful flora climbed a trellis at the side of the house. I was beginning to feel that the bouquet I'd brought was superfluous, not to mention quite insignificant compared to the perfect landscaping.
Edward opened the door and smiled. "Don't be nervous," he said encouragingly.
"Sure. Hang on while I just flick my internal dimmer switch and turn that off," I said.
He chuckled. "Here, let me take your jacket." He hung it up in the hall closet and walked me to the next room.
The spacious living room was stylish but understated; what I could see of the décor thus far revealed a preference for soft, light colors. There were several sofas and upholstered chairs in muted beige, light oak tables, a white area rug over a hardwood floor, and towards the back, a black grand piano.
Edward led me through the living room and down a narrow hallway, hung with small photos and a few paintings. It was homey yet tasteful.
The delicious scent of Italian cooking grew stronger as we made our way to the kitchen. Carlisle was at the stove; I recognized him right away, of course, and smiled. A lovely woman with long light brown hair stood next to him, and Edward introduced her as his mother, Esme.
My attention immediately went to the other couple in the room. A man who appeared to be close to Edward's age was chopping vegetables on the counter, his back to me. He turned around and grinned, and to my relief, he tossed down the knife and waved hello. It wasn't that I thought he'd come charging at me with it. He was one of the brawniest men I'd ever seen in my life outside of one of those television commercials for body building, and the sight of him with a knife was alarming. Enormous muscles extended down his arms and across his chest, barely contained by the sweater he was wearing. I think he may have been as wide as he was tall.
"Bella, this is Emmett. And that's Rosalie," Edward said, gesturing to the last person in the room.
Near the refrigerator, holding a salad bowl, was a blonde woman whose beauty rivaled any model, or possibly anyone who had ever been the subject of poetry or literature. Tall, with waves of cornsilk hair cascading down her back, she was impeccably dressed to suit her perfect build. She seemed less friendly than the rest of Edward's family; she merely nodded her head and gave me a tight-lipped smile, then turned to leave the salad on the counter.
All of Edward's family shared the same golden eye color I'd regularly seen in his own gaze.
"We're making you something to eat," Esme said warmly.
"I think she's already had dinner, Mom," Edward said, sounding self conscious all of a sudden.
I frowned and turned to face him. "Noooo," I scolded him.
He looked back at me. "Didn't you eat?"
"Not really," I lied. "And if you're family's gone through the trouble of cooking something for me, I'm certainly going to enjoy it."
I'd almost forgotten about the bouquet I was holding. I walked over the Esme and handed it to her, saying, "These are for you. I hope you like them."
She looked delighted. "Bella, they're lovely! How thoughtful of you! My favorites -- roses and baby's breath. If you'll excuse me, I'll go put these in water." Her eyes met Edward's directly, and he gave her a broad grin.
Carlisle smiled kindly at me. "Edward mentioned that you like pasta, so we've made you some rotini with marinara sauce. It's nothing fancy," he said, almost apologetically.
"That sounds perfect. Simple is good. You really didn't need to go through all this trouble, though," I said.
"Believe me, we're only too happy to welcome you. We're thrilled that Edward has brought you here to meet everyone," he said.
Carlisle suggested that Edward and I sit in the dining room, and he and Esme would bring in the food when it was ready. Edward took my hand, and my heartbeat gave away my response to everyone else in the room.
The dining room was painted pale celery green; with a white chair rail circling the room at just below waist level. Off-white wallpaper featuring a pattern of small, delicate flowers covered the area below the chair rail. There was one place setting at the oak table, obviously arranged for me. I gave Edward a puzzled grin. "This is a beautiful dining room set, but I imagine it doesn't get that much use," I remarked.
"We often hold family meetings here," he explained. Rosalie came in and wordlessly set down the salad bowl, then left the room.
I looked down at my plate but raised my eyebrows. Edward shook his head. "Don't mind her, please. She normally isn't very friendly," he said, annoyance evident in his tone.
"Hi Bella!" A female voice rang out like a clear, high bell. Alice glided through the doorway, her petite frame moving gracefully. Behind her, I saw a tall, solemn young man with a thin but muscular build and blond, wavy hair. I assumed it was Jasper.
I stood up to greet them and Alice came bounding over to me, throwing her arms around me in a sweet hug. I laughed but was so surprised I forgot to hug her back.
"Alice," Edward said warningly, his voice little more than a growl. Alice released me but stayed in front of me, an impish expression on her face.
"No, it's okay. I just didn't expect that. I'm sorry." I hugged her back. "It's so nice to meet you." She giggled.
Jasper made no move toward me, merely inclining his head. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Bella," he said. His voice sounded strained.
"I'm so glad Edward finally brought you here! I've been wanting to meet you for the longest time," Alice chirped. Her voice, though high pitched, had a lovely musical quality to it. And of course, she was also beautiful, though in a different way than Rosalie or Esme. She was like a tiny ballet dancer with a halo of spiky black hair that framed her perfect, elfin face.
Esme came into the dining room and placed the flowers, artfully arranged in a crystal vase, on the table. Carlisle followed her, carrying a tray with a plate of pasta and steamed vegetables, a small silver serving dish with grated cheese, and a bowl for the salad.
"This looks wonderful. Thank you," I said. I was feeling at a bit of a loss. For people who never cooked, they had come up with a perfect meal, if the appearance and aroma were any indication.
"You're very welcome," Esme said.
Alice pulled out a chair and sat down. Jasper remained standing behind her, keeping his distance from me. Emmett also came in and sat down at the table, although Rosalie didn't reappear.
"It's so nice that you and Edward are together now," Alice said with a sigh. "I told him long ago you're perfect for him, but Edward has to come around to things at his own speed, I guess. We've been hoping he'd find somebody for ages! Better late than never. He's usually kind of grumpy, and he's so much happier now." She tilted her head and rubbed her fingers together thoughtfully.
Carlisle sighed, and Esme looked at Alice as if she'd never seen her before. Emmett started whistling softly. I was too afraid to look at Edward, but I'd swear I could feel the heat of his aggravation from where he sat. As usual, when I was nervous, I blurted out the first joke I could come up with.
"Well, that's me – delicious and nutritious," I said brightly.
The room was dead silent for about a second, and I glanced at Edward, who was staring at me, his face frozen. Then Emmett's booming laugh ricocheted around the room. "Oh, yeah, Edward. You can bring her here any time," he said, still chuckling.
The tension cracked and everyone else laughed, even Edward.
***
Don't worry, we're not leaving the Cullen house yet. The next chapter will start right where we left off here, from Edward's POV.
Thanks for reading! Your reviews are delicious and nutritious.