Chapter 12: Orchestra
Disclaimer: SMeyer owns "Twilight." Elysabeth owns "Les Yeux de la Lune."
Chapter 12: Orchestra
Black hole.
Nothingness.
I fell into a catatonic state.
I emerged from it able only to mumble, "You ...what?"
Bella's words poured out. "Don't worry. The packet is hermetically sealed. You won't smell anything. Seeing it, however, would make you ... uncomfortable, I think. That's why I didn't want you to open it in front of me. It was Banner who gave me the idea with his blood typing project. The Red Cross had a blood drive at the community center yesterday and I made a donation. You wouldn't believe the ingenuity I needed to take the bag home with me. You know, they have all sorts of controls to keep the donors from having access to the blood. It's only the phlebotomists who ... well, I managed. It wasn't easy. Considering my condition, I hope I didn't take the wrong bag from the refrigerator. And there will probably be a taste of plastic and it won't be … warm and fresh as you like it, but it'll still be better than the usual boring animal blood, right?" She finally stopped with a nervous laugh.
I stared at the box that I was still holding. My hands burned holding it. It was temptation. It was Pandora's box. Prohibited. Cursed. Alluring. Her nectar nestled in my palms. The Holy Grail for vampires. Forbidden fruit.
I let it fall before I was overcome by the urge to open it.
Bella heard the dull thump as the box landed on the duff of the forest floor. She retrieved it, distressed.
"You're angry."
"No. I am … stunned," I barely managed to get out.
She frowned in puzzlement. My voice was now coming from high above her. She raised her face to the top of the pine and it was only then that I realized that I had leapt into the branches to get as far as I could from temptation. I had acted on reflex.
Here, in the crest of the tree, I felt in control of myself. The height gave me an impression of psychological dominance over my baser instincts, and enough distance to be able to study the girl on the ground below.
I understood now why she was so pale. The donation had weakened her. And all the maneuvering to sneak out the IV bag must have exhausted her. She had made so much effort for me ... for the monster.
Bella fiddled with the box, her expression downcast. She whispered, aware that I would hear each word without difficulty from my perch.
"I owe you so much, Edward … I know it's a constant battle to be with me. If … if you could satisfy your thirst, it would be easy afterward, wouldn't it? When you think about it, it's the ideal solution. I asked the nurse how often donors could give blood. Once a month. That wouldn't hurt me. I thought that … that your father could be involved. Because you can imagine that it was quite an exploit to steal the bag and I won't have so much luck the next time."
The next time?
"If it doesn't cause any suspicions, as a doctor Carlisle could get the equipment to take blood from me once a month for your … dose."
I stared again at Pandora and her box. I had fallen for the most reckless human being on the planet. This girl decidedly thought nothing about keeping herself alive. She was completely oblivious.
Totally unthinking.
Perfectly negligent.
Absolutely adorable.
How I loved her!
She wanted to lighten my burden, she wanted to help me, give me a little joy, and she had found that her own person was the best way to thank me. She knew that for me her blood was more alluring than that of any ordinary human. Oh, if only it were that simple! If only I could be satisfied without a blood bath, without the monster slavering to get what it wanted … Unfortunately, the reality was much more complex than Bella thought.
Just thinking about what was inside that box was making me thirsty. I was still sated from my hunt the night before. But the possibility of drinking that blood without being a killer was the most torturous of temptations.
I couldn't give in. It was impossible.
Oh, why, why was she doing this to me?
I landed next to her. I kept my eyes on her face, averting my gaze from the container. I opened my mouth to rebuke her angrily, to dispel her romantic ideas with harsh words, to force her to see the world, my world, as it really was – even if that expression was completely inapt for her …
… only to have the wind knocked out of my sails when I looked into her unhappy eyes.
I couldn't do any of that.
"Bella…" The tenderness and desolation in my voice made her shiver. They even surprised me, given the fury that was consuming me a second earlier.
"Your gesture has truly touched me …"
I had to find the right words so I wouldn't frighten her.
"I can't accept it. It's a gift that is … priceless. But it's a poisoned gift. If … if I drank it, I … I couldn't stop myself. I would always want more. The monster inside me would seek out the source, the origin of this blood. It would never be satisfied, and it certainly couldn't wait a month for its next dose. I would find you and I would …"
I had difficulty saying the words without dwelling on the graphic images they evoked. I didn't want these horrible pictures in my mind rousing the appetite of the monster. And Bella was right next to me. It would want those images to become reality … Yet I continued to try to make her understand.
"A vampire can stop only when there is nothing left to drink. When… when the victim is dead and empty. His trance ends when his prey has nothing more to give. And if I drank the blood in that bag, the monster in me would know that you are still alive, you understand? And it would find you… It's better if I never taste it." It took a considerable effort for me to keep my voice calm so it wouldn't betray my unsteadiness.
"I understand." Bella's voice was sheepish.
I bent very slowly toward her neck, giving her time to stop me, to tell me to move away from her. Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn't recoil. So I allowed myself to inhale the fragrance of this forbidden fruit.
It intoxicated me, the perfume that wafted from the artery in her throat. My eyelids fluttered and I was overcome by the fire that raced from my nose to my brain and throat and into my chest.
"This is all I can permit myself," I whispered, sending an icy breath across her neck.
Bella trembled and I stepped away. I was detecting the signs of a coming loss of control. That cooler was much too close to me, and I was all too aware that her blood was inside. I had to fight against both the Edward who would be happy to drink without killing and the monster that would be happy just to drink. Responsible Edward was having quite a time battling on two fronts.
"Thank you, Bella, thank you," I said, imbuing my voice with all the sincerity I felt. "But for your survival, I can't take this gift." My next words were going to depress the both of us, but I had no choice. "It's better if you leave and take that far away from me."
Her reaction was what I expected, as was mine. Still, Bella walked away, shoulders slumped. She stopped before completely stepping out of the shadow of the pine.
"I'm sorry."
"Not as much as I am, believe me."
"What I did was really stupid."
"Your intentions were good."
"I'm going to figure out another present for you."
"Don't worry about it."
"I really am going to find something."
I wished so much that I could have been capable of accepting that gift, so that she didn't feel she owed me anything. I knew that no matter how much I assured her that I needed nothing beyond her company, Bella felt guilty that she had nothing to offer me.
"Hey, should we not see each other tonight?" she asked.
I considered the question for a millisecond. I would have enough time to recover. I wouldn't let this misstep prevent her visit to my house.
"No, let's go ahead. Come by after school. I'm supposed to be ill, so I can't pick you up."
"Okay, my dad will drive me. See you later."
I tried to not follow her through her classmates' thoughts that afternoon. I didn't want to know what she did with that IV bag. It was better that way. I returned home, on edge and my head full of disgusting fantasies.
I ran into Alice and had difficulty not exploding at her.
"You could have warned me."
"No," she insisted fiercely. "I wanted to show you that you could refuse it without knowing in advance. Don't you see now how strong you are? You had her blood offered to you on a silver platter and you resisted it."
I calmed down a bit, touched by her intentions and her unlimited faith in me. I had indeed passed another test, had again triumphed over my base nature. One day, in the not so distant future, perhaps, I would win the war. I would be like Carlisle: unaffected by the smell and sight of blood.
"Nonetheless -" Alice's thoughts escaped her "—she is completely crazy to have done that! She thinks more of him than of her own survival."
I was shaken by my sister's observation. Bella felt that deeply for me? Impossible. She was naïve, a little (a lot!) heedless, that was all.
"You're jumping to conclusions," I told Alice.
She shrugged. "Who knows…" I watched her mental search of the future, seeking out some evidence that would confirm or contradict her thoughts. She found nothing.
An unpleasant odor emanating from the kitchen attracted our attention.
"Yuck! Esme's starting to cook," my sister said with a grimace.
I was repulsed too, but my mother's initiative also pleased me. Besides Alice, Esme was the most enthusiastic about my relationship with a human. I was touched that she wanted to do everything she could to put Bella at ease. Her thoughts were very maternal already.
I spent the hours that followed pacing. I was impatient and yet not impatient. I was eager and excited. I was terrified and euphoric. The hands on my watch were too quick and then too slow. What was going to happen? I had told Bella that everything would be fine, but I was being presumptuous. Alice was confident but her visions were imprecise. Everything was uncertain. The only thing she saw clearly was Bella's decision not to shrink back, to throw herself into the lion's den, quite literally. For the rest (would Jasper stay calm, would Bella trip and bleed and provoke chaos, would she be afraid of us, would she feel inferior as both a human and someone with a disability, would Rosalie be so unpleasant that Bella would refuse to return here?) nothing was clear. My questions would be answered only as events unfolded.
I surveyed the house a hundred times to assure myself that nothing would make Bella stumble, and I put away everything that could hurt her.
"You're driving me crazy," Rosalie grumbled, and shut herself up in the garage.
I ignored her.
Tires crunched on the gravel of our driveway.
They were here already.
Finally.
So soon.
It was about time.
I wasn't ready.
I was more than ready.
I was a mass of contradictions.
Carlisle rested his hand on my shoulder in a paternal gesture. "Everything will go off without a problem, son," he said.
I gave him a tense smile in response.
The patrol car appeared on the winding path to the house. I sought out Charlie's mind. As always, I wasn't able to see Bella through his eyes, but I could gauge his thoughts. They were a little suspicious, but delight was dominant. His little housebound girl was going out. Officially it was for school, unofficially to spend time with a boy, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that Bella was emerging from her solitude. And in case, my parents would be there as chaperones, he told himself.
The car stopped next to the house and I eavesdropped on the conversation.
"What a place!" Charlie exclaimed
"Describe it for me."
"There are practically no walls, it's all glass. It's huge. The garage itself is the size of our house."
"Good to know."
I heard the click of a seat belt being unfastened.
"I'm off. I'll call you when we're done."
"I'll come with you," he said, unfastening his own seat belt.
"Dad, I don't want you to escort me. It's embarrassing."
Charlie mumbled something even I couldn't decipher.
"Just tell me where I should go."
Her father spoke in a monotone. "You get out, on your right there's a stone stair in about two or three yards."
Two and three quarters yards! Couldn't he be more precise?
"There are four steps, I think, then you'll be at the door. The doorbell is on the right at shoulder level."
Six steps! There were six of them! Couldn't he count?
"Thanks. See you later, Dad."
She got out of the car and I thanked heaven (if there was one) that she didn't fall flat on her face because of her father's vague information. Should I go outside and meet her? Bad idea. I was supposed to have a fever and Charlie would think it odd if I went out in the cold of a March evening.
Bella stumbled on the fifth step, but recovered her balance in time. If I had had a working heart, it would have stopped.
"Oops," her father said from the car.
The doorbell rang.
"Here she is, the lamb in the lion's den," Emmett joked from the kitchen.
Rosalie remained in the garage and focused on the engine she was working on as best as she could. Ignoring this visit was her way of not being disagreeable about our guest, for a face-to-face meeting risked turning out badly. So much the better. Let her stay away.
In their room, Jasper stiffened and stopped breathing. Alice took his arm in encouragement.
My mother and father stood in the living room, side by side.
I opened the door and the part of me that had been reluctant vanished. Opening the door to Bella was like opening the door to paradise.
"Good evening."
My intonation had becoming caressing without my intending it. It was stronger than I was.
Bella raised her head toward the source of my voice. A bit of the embarrassment from this afternoon reappeared on her features but my friendly welcome (friendly? Frankly, it was affectionate!) reassured her.
"Hi." She gave me a timid little smile that rocked me.
I waved at Charlie so he would know he could leave. He waved back and drove off.
"Come in."
She stepped inside hesitantly while I took her coat and backpack holding the materials of a student who was supposed to be helping a classmate catch up.
"You're feeling better?"
For an instant, I stupidly thought she hadn't heard the car take off and that she was playacting for her father's benefit. Then I realized that Bella was worried about my reaction to her present.
"Don't worry about it. I'm in control."
"I know. But I don't want you to suffer more than usual because of my idiocy today."
"This child is so considerate!" Esme exulted.
My smile broadened and I took Bella's hand.
"Everything is fine, I promise you."
Esme again: "He took her hand and she didn't recoil!"
I led Bella into the living room, moved by my mother's reaction.
My parents watched us closely and I observed us through their minds from their vantage point. I was dumbfounded when I saw how I appeared physically with Bella. Was that what a man in love looked like? I was leaning toward her, I followed all her movements, adjusting all my movements to hers without realizing it. I gazed at her with an absorbed, protective expression, I had one hand possessively interlaced with hers and the other circling her like a rampart ready to catch her in case she encountered an obstacle of some sort. I was a satellite and Bella was my center of gravity. I was in orbit around my moon.
Everyone in my family was in love and I had had many occasions to see them together, but my protectiveness seemed much stronger than theirs. Falling in love with a human – one who was vulnerable and weak in so many ways – had made me even more obsessed.
I understood better what Bella had meant in Port Angeles: "It's as if I'm surrounded by bulletproof glass that repels everything bad that could happen to me."
I was that exactly: a glass bubble that had enclosed Bella.
It was the first time my parents had seen me in her company, and if they had harbored any doubts about my feelings, a quick glance would have sufficed to convince them.
I left their minds to concentrate on Bella, whose heartbeat resonated throughout the house. She was serene only on the surface and was forcing herself to overcome her nervousness. I myself had difficulty containing my own anxiety.
She swallowed with difficulty and her legs were unsteady. What was she thinking about? Did she want to escape? Her mental barrier was so frustrating! If I had known what she was thinking, I could have adjusted my behavior. If she was afraid, if she didn't feel ready for this meeting, I would have told her that she could call her father. If she regretted having come here, I would have assured her that I wasn't offended. If she wanted me to not hold her hand, I would have discreetly moved away. If, if, if. I couldn't be certain about anything.
I decided to imitate Alice. I squeezed Bella's hand gently in encouragement, then led her to my parents. Let's get this over with.
"Esme, Carlisle. I'd like to introduce Bella. Bella, my parents for all intents and purposes."
My father stepped forward, his experience as a doctor having to put his human patients at ease guiding him.
"Welcome, Bella," he said, with a warm smile.
Bella raised her free hand. She blushed, which temporarily gave a normal hue to her cheeks, still ghostly pale after her donation.
"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Cullen."
Carlisle's eyes widened at seeing her outstretched hand, but he took it in his own. "Please, call me Carlisle," he said, thinking, "What courage..."
"Thank you."
Esme stepped forward. "I'm happy to meet you, Bella."
She also took Bella's hand, longer than Carlisle did, in a manner more maternal than polite. "We've made Italian for you. I hope you like it!"
Bella was surprised, but touched. "You didn't need to go to the trouble."
Alice appeared suddenly on the stairs. "Hi, Bella!"
My companion's face lighted up. She loved Alice already. "Hi, Alice."
My sister landed in front of us and leaned forward to give Bella a peck on the cheek and a hug.
I was taken aback by her effusiveness. Bella was too. Then my shock gave way to jealousy. A kiss and an embrace! I could only dream of such things. Alice could allow herself such contact because Bella's scent didn't overwhelm her as it did me.
"You do smell good."
"Um, thanks?"
Alice's chiming laugh rang out. Jasper appeared next to you, hands behind his back. The heightened atmosphere in the room eased and Bella's heart slowed to a more regular rhythm. My brother had acted more for his own comfort than for that of my companion - hearing her nervous heart pump her blood had been torture for him.
Jasper's talent allowed him to manipulate emotions and discern those of the people around him. I saw in his mind how he judged Bella's feelings - he sensed fear.
I was disappointed and unhappy. Normally, Bella was transparent, but for my benefit she had carefully suppressed her fear. And I didn't want Bella to be afraid of us.
I had thought that everything was going rather well until now. But all this was too much for her to handle on a single day, apparently.
Jasper lifted his eyes to mine. He had just detected my unhappiness and realized that I had read his analysis of Bella's emotions.
"It's not what you think. She doesn't fear us. She's just afraid that we won't like her, that's all."
Relief. So, Bella was afraid that vampires would reject her.
I suppressed a laugh.
My exchange with my brother having lasted just a second, he introduced himself. He kept his distance, but was polite.
"Good evening, Bella."
Hearing Jasper's voice made her frown. Was she wondering which of my two brothers was talking to her? Suddenly, her face blossomed into a bright smile.
"Hi, Jasper the Hacker."
She had recognized his voice from the telephone.
Her little rhyme disconcerted him. He hadn't expected a joke about our illegal escapade from last Saturday, nor had I.
Jasper quickly got himself in hand. "Pleased to meet you, Bella the Outlaw," he said, amused.
He stepped back to stand next to Alice. "Funny little human." But his next thought was more somber and tinged with guilt. "And to think that I wanted to kill her."
Emmett announced himself in his deep voice. "Hey, Bella!"
She jumped at the sound of his intimidating baritone, but kept her smile. She lifted her gaze to my giant of a brother, craning her neck to speak to the space above her where his voice emanated from.
"Hi, Emmett."
He shook her hand - an iron vise around a feather - solemnly but with a ridiculous grimace on his face that would have made any human turn tail.
Esme gave him a reproachful look and I sighed in exasperation.
The ice having been broken with almost all the members of my family, I led Bella off while Emmett continued to play the fool under Jasper's amused eye.
All in all, that had gone well. I was pleased.
"Come on, I'll show you around."
I knew that Bella wouldn't be completely at ease until she could mentally detail her surroundings. She followed me obediently, but turned back to my family.
"I'm pleased to have met you all," she said.
It was the usual polite expression, but it was disconcerting because Bella was sincere. We had met many mortals in our cycles of existence and had often heard the same sentence, but never had it been true. There was always some fear hidden in those words. Perhaps Bella's blindness helped her; our intimidating vampiric aura didn't unnerve her. I was certain, however, that blind or not, Bella would be just as sincere. My family felt it too.
"She is charming," Esme exclaimed.
My family discreetly left us.
I took Bella all over the house. She longed to "see" certain things in her way, but held back, aware that leaving her scent everywhere in a vampire's nest wasn't a good idea. Still, I described everything precisely, the dimensions of the rooms, the colors, the shapes ... everything. I wanted her to know that our house was civilized. Adapted to our needs, but human, normal. I wanted her to realize that it was far, far from the cliché of the vampire's gloomy, cobwebbed castle.
I left my room till last. I escorted her in, uncomfortable. She was entering the one place that belonged to me entirely and where I could be in solitude. But I wanted to share it with her. After all, it was only just: she shared her room with me much of the time even if she didn't know it.
"Explore as much as you like," I told her. For me, her scent in my room wasn't a problem. In fact, it would help in my training.
Bella's hands brushed touched the soundproofed walls, the bay window from which we could hear the splashing of the river, the shelves filled with CDs, my sofa.
"It feels as if we're outside, it's so airy."
"This is the only place where we don't have to hide."
"This house is ... special."
"It wasn't what you expected, was it?"
"There is a dearth of dungeons and coffins," she said mischievously.
Laughter rang out in the house. Even Bella heard it.
"The wall here have ears," she joked.
"They're curious. It's not everyday that we have a human guest. But they like you, you know."
The corner of Bella's mouth lifted, then she focused my shelves of CDs. I told her the titles as she touched them.
"Your collection is impressive! Very eclectic, and from every era possible."
"We'll listen to them someday. But now I want to show you something."
I took her hand again (that was definitely a gesture I couldn't deprive myself off, the only bit of intimacy I could allow myself: it didn't betray my secret love, nor did it awaken the monster) and led her along the hall. Emmett was leaning against the doorway to his room. He said nothing, but made another horrible, idiotic grimace at Bella.
I glared at him, but stayed silent. The quickest way to get him to stop being a clown was to ignore him.
Bella suddenly looked inquisitive. "Haven't you told me that vampires never had physical maladies?"
I stopped, perplexed.
"That's true."
"Then why does Emmett have such spasms in his face?"
For a second, there was total silence in the house, then I exploded into laughter. Everyone else did the same (even Rosalie's mouth twitched) except Emmett, who was completely dumbfounded.
"What? But … how did you know?"
Bella suppressed a laugh too. "People do that to me a lot. I can sense it when they do."
I should have suspected that Bella would have detected this sort of thing. I adored her for her astuteness. Of course, I simply adored her.
Her air of pride pleased my brother. Emmett understood that she was not just a clever human, but had a good sense of humor. That was unusual for him. Even when he didn't grimace at them, humans avoided him. That didn't bother him, but as a consequence he tended to regard humans as inferior and cowardly. He had no choice but to adjust his assessment when it came to Bella.
"You got me!" He spontaneously ruffled her hair. A little too energetically – Bella had to smooth it down afterward. I groaned and distanced her from his steel grip. Emmett found it all very amusing.
He went into his room, snickering, while I descended to the living room, Bella at my heels. We passed by the door that led to the garage, and the rumble of a motor that Rosalie was testing was audible.
"That's your Volvo, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"It's strange. It sounds as if it's missing a cylinder."
I blinked in surprise. Bella could recognize the sound of the motor that was lacking a cylinder.
"Rosalie is testing it. She is a mechanic in her free time."
On the other side of the door, my sister had heard Bella. "Goodness, she knows that much about cars?"
She released a sigh and went back to her work, this time on another motor.
"An Aston Martin V12 Vanquish?" Bella asked. "Just how many cars do you have in that garage?"
Once again I was astonished by her automotive knowledge.
"Six."
Rosalie was taken aback that Bella identified the Aston Martin so easily and wanted to play a game that I found juvenile but hilarious.
Rosalie started up the Jeep.
"There, a Wrangler," my companion declared.
Rosalie silenced it and turned on the Porsche.
"911 Turbo."
Then it was the Mercedes.
"S55 AMG," Bella said.
My sister grumbled, "Let's see if you're clever enough to figure this out, Swan."
She moved to the M3, which she had modified with a more powerful motor.
"Hmm," Bella said, a finger on her chin. "BMW, but it doesn't purr like an M3. I'd say there are four cylinders more. It's a V15, isn't it?"
Rosalie snarled and gave up her little game. She took her anger out on the monkey wrench in her tool box, twisting it into a knot, which amused me greatly.
"So, you have quite the car collection!" Bella observed.
"You are too much!" I told her. I was as impressed as Rosalie was irritated. She didn't like it that Bella had something in common with her. "I didn't know you had an interest in cars."
"I don't. It's Phil's fault. He dragged me to all the expos and car shows in Phoenix. It was his hobby. He enjoyed teaching me how to identify different makes."
"You had a very good teacher."
I left Rosalie to stew by herself and led Bella to the living room.
"We're not going to say hi to her?" Bella asked.
"She'll come out herself, later … perhaps," I said evasively.
"Huh, she doesn't like me much."
"That's an understatement," Rosalie spat.
I gritted my teeth, trying to appear convincing. "It's not that. Rosalie is … very reserved. She doesn't take well to strangers."
"I understand."
She did understand, and it saddened her. I could tell from her expression.
"St. Bella! So understanding, so tolerant!"
I clenched my fist so hard that my nails left marks on my palms, but was careful to keep the hand that held Bella's relaxed. I guided her far from the sarcastic remarks. Even if Bella couldn't hear them and be hurt by them, I was having difficulty dealing with them.
"I have to something show you," I said to distract her.
We had come to the pièce de resistance of the tour. I knew that it would enchant her more than anything else in the house.
I took her hands and placed them on the polished wood of my grand piano.
Bella, intrigued, explored the surface until she got to the keyboard.
"You have a piano!"
I smiled.
"Not just any piano. Count the keys."
She did so without sounding them.
"Ninety-seven! A Bösendorfer! You have a Bösendorfer!" She was in raptures. "But that's impossible. You can't find them anymore. They haven't been made since the beginning of the 1900s."
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance even though her enthusiasm was contagious.
"I know."
She shook her head in consternation.
"More Cullen magic?"
"Let's just say that we are careful with our possessions. Carlisle had this piano since 1892 and gave it to me when he noted how much I liked it."
I took a seat on the bench and invited her to sit to my right. I ran my fingers along the keyboard, starting at random one of my compositions. Bella was impressed by my skill and by the quality of the instrument. I showed off a little: all at once, I felt very human and very male. What man doesn't try to show off his prowess for the woman he wants? Some men flex their muscles, others try to dunk a basketball or hit an ace. I did it through music.
"It sounds new."
"We know how to take care of our toys."
"You wrote this?"
"Yes," I said a little smugly. "It's Esme's favorite."
She listened for a while, eyes closed, concentrating.
"It sounds like a homage."
"It is. A homage to Esme and Carlisle, to what ties them together."
"It's magnificent."
She made a face when I struck the last notes.
"I would have finished in F sharp."
"The flat accentuates their tenacity."
"But the F sharp emphasizes the purity and longevity of their love."
I had written this piece 60 years ago and had always played it this way. The artist in me was nettled that my composition was being criticized.
"You hardly know them. How can you already define what unites them?"
"I know them through your piece. And believe me, the F sharp is more in keeping with the rest of your melody than the E flat."
I muttered, but played the last sequence again with her suggestion so that she would hear that I was right. To my displeasure, I found that the ending was clearly more harmonious with the F sharp. A point for Miss Swan.
"See, it's better, don't you agree?" she said proudly.
I feigned sulkiness. "Yeah."
She snickered. My imitation of a pouting brat amused her.
"She has you wrapped around her little finger, little brother!"
Even though Emmett was in his room, he missed nothing of what was happening in the living room … and neither did any of the rest of my family.
"You have such an ego." Bella smiled a smile without the timidity or embarrassment she had been exhibiting since she'd entered the house. My Bösendorfer had eased her self-consciousness. We were on familiar ground: music is what had brought us together, she was comfortable with it, no matter where she was – even in a house filled with vampires.
She reached toward the keyboard.
"May I?"
"Please."
I was curious to see how she would manage without seeing. I, of course, didn't need to look at the keys to play flawlessly. But I wondered how a blind human would do. I knew she was a gifted composer, but there was a difference between playing music and writing it.
Bella started playing with dexterity. She wasn't as at ease as I was – no surprise, since I had 90 years of experience behind me – but her fingering was fluid and adept.
"I wasn't able to bring my piano here from Renee's. I've missed playing. Ninety-seven keys, what luxury! It's marvelous."
I recognized the Chopin ballade. But it was only a warm-up exercise. She started a second piece, more hesitantly, because it was her own – it was the one I had read surreptitiously and that had inspired me to create another piece.
I knew why she wanted to play it: only a Bösendorfer could do justice to the multiple octaves used in the symphony. She gave herself over to it fully when she realized that I was watching her without judging or asking questions. She didn't know that I was already familiar with her composition … and it was probably best for that state of affairs to continue. I sensed that she was playing something that exposed her, that came from deep within her, and I was moved that she was willing to let me hear something so personal.
I had heard the piece only in my head before this. As I listened to her play, it became something complete, something spiritual, and it was even more extraordinary than I had thought. Bella made the notes ring under her fingers as if the piano was an extension of herself.
I was then struck by something that led me to put my fingers on the lower keys. I started my own piece, the one that she had inspired.
Bella frowned and lengthened some notes, intrigued by what I was doing. She plunged back into her piece while paying attention to my own intrusion. And it was a revelation. My low, heavy, sad notes mixed with her fluid, sustained, light ones.
Played separately, the two pieces were beautifully melancholy, but something was missing. Played together, they were full, high and low, strong and gentle, still melancholy but complete. Nothing was missing, each melody drew strength from the other, supported each other, overlapping each other while respecting each other. The silences of one piece were met by the prolongations of the other. Together they were effervescent. Even my abrupt, ominous ending was softened by Bella's high, sweet notes, which delicately accompanied mine.
This ending, hers and mine combined, terminated in spaced-out notes, heavy with meaning and intensity. Mine stayed low, but rose in a crescendo. Hers stayed in the high notes, but deepened, and our two final notes were the same: a G sharp. Our two hands met on this last note and struck the key together. We left it depressed for a while, almost like an organ, then we lifted our hands, now joined, fingers entwined.
Unknowingly, we had composed a piece for four hands. Each of us had felt that lack in our own compositions, but we didn't know how to correct it: we each needed the other to finally complete our work.
I opened my eyes and allowed my mind to open to the others in the house. I had closed it off while we played, so I could get lost in our piece. And now that I was back to reality, the thoughts of my family rushed in. Everyone was stupefied. Even Rosalie had stopped her tinkering to listen. Our little concert opened their eyes to the truth of our tie. The splendor and strength of our piece demonstrated to them what I could not explain: something unique and powerful united us. Its essence was in this melody and was stronger and purer that anything that was destined to separate us.
I hadn't planned this, but I couldn't have found a better way of having Bella accepted by my family.
We remained seated on the piano bench, hand in hand. I didn't want to speak. Nor did she. We simply wanted to … savor the moment.
After a long time, there was a murmured, "Thank you."
I didn't know which of the two of us had said it. Perhaps both of us at the same time. It didn't matter. That thank you spoke for itself.
In silent accord, we got up. It was the first time we had played together, and certainly not the last.
The magic dissipated and we returned to the real world. Esme called to us, still shaken by what she had just heard. But she knew that the moment was ours alone and made no comment about our playing. Instead, she announced that it was dinnertime for the human.
"That smells really good," Bella said when she arrived in the kitchen.
Alice materialized at her side. "You think so? To me it smells disgusting."
Esme guided Bella by her shoulders to a table. "I'm glad it smells good to you. I followed the recipe, but I have no way of knowing if I succeeded. So, be honest, Bella. Don't worry about hurting my feelings."
"You don't taste human food?"
"For us, there's no difference between a fruit and a vegetable, or between beef and fish," my sister said, wrinkling her nose at the plate Esme set before Bella. "It would be like asking you to distinguish the taste of sand from dirt."
I let her chatter on, smiling at this conversation that was at once simple and strange, banal and surprising. I had wanted that, for Bella to blend in with my family. But to witness it was moving.
Bella lifted her fork to her mouth under the worried gaze of my mother, who had joined her hands in a silent prayer.
"Mmm!"
She took another bite.
"Do you like it?"
"You're a real chef, Mrs. Cullen."
"Esme."
"Esme."
My mother, delighted, watched as Bella finished the dish enthusiastically. The conversation started up again and turned to art. Esme knew a lot about sculpture - indeed, it was she who has told me about the Gestalder museum. She and Bella discussed the sculptures in the house that I had described to her, and Esme invited her to see them in her way.
"That won't bother you?" she asked.
"Of course not."
I was a silent observer of their talk. Alice watched too, but with a more critical eye, one focused on fashion.
"Red? No. Blue is better."
In her head, I saw a swirling panoply of colors and fabrics.
"What are you cooking up?" I asked.
"Tomorrow, after school, I'll take Bella to pick out an outfit for the party for the science fair."
"Come on! That's not necessary."
"She needs an appropriate outfit for the occasion."
My sister was convinced that Bella was going to go with her without protest, even though I saw nothing in her visions to justify such a conclusion.
"You don't know if she'll even say yes."
"I'm not going to give her the choice."
"Alice..."
"Don't worry, it'll be fine."
"Don't take advantage of the fact that she can't see to transform her into a Barbie doll."
She made a face of outrage. "What do you take me for?"
"For a little monster with extravagant tastes."
"Have a little faith in me."
I rolled my eyes.
I already felt sorry for Bella, though at the same time I was pleased about Alice's interest in her.
It was soon 9:30, Bella's curfew. As always, time was relative for me when I was with her. Her father came to take her home, and when she said goodbye she was much more relaxed than when she arrived.
"Thanks for letting me get to know you."
My family was a little discombobulated that Bella considered this encounter a favor to her. Ordinarily, one doesn't consider visiting a nest of predators a privilege.
"Come back whenever you'd like, Bella," Carlisle said.
"See you at school tomorrow," Alice sang out.
My mother carried out the leftovers from dinner. Seeing her come out of the house, Charlie got out of his patrol car.
She handed him a dish. "This is to thank you for letting your daughter visit."
Overwhelmed by my mother's beauty, Charlie took it with trembling hands. "Not at all, Mrs. Cullen."
"I hope we'll have the chance to see her again. She's a delicious child."
Jasper started laughing about the double meaning of her words, and I clapped my hands over his mouth to keep him quiet.
My mother's plush voice was hypnotic, and Charlie acquiesced in a fog.
"Uh ... of course. No problem. It would be a pleasure," he babbled.
Charlie returned to the driver's seat in a daze.
"I'll come by for you tomorrow," I told Bella.
She smiled at me.
"It was a very interesting visit." She squeezed my hand and got into the car.
"Until tomorrow."
It was over. The lamb had gotten out of the lion's den alive and untraumatized. I watched the car disappear among the trees with a mixture of euphoria and incredulity. I replayed every second of the evening in my head, analyzed it, dissected it. I tried to find a mistake, a dissonance, but there was nothing.
Bella had come to my house. She had met my family. A human had entered the sanctuary of mythological creatures.
It was a revolution, a huge step forward, a red-letter date in the joint history of humanity and the supernatural. It should have been heralded with trumpets and acclaimed by a crowd of millions, partisans of the redemption, peace and forgiveness that beings like my family sought. Instead, it took place in obscurity and quiet, no applause, no hue and cry. Only a feeling of serenity and well-being.
I was proud, happy, surprised, enchanted. And I continued to be so in the days and weeks that followed. I had wanted Bella and my family to know each other better, but the relationship that developed went far beyond mere politeness.
What moment could I pinpoint as the one when Bella started being considered as a member of the family and not just Edward's mortal companion?
Perhaps it was the day I saw Alice and Bella return from shopping giggling like, well, teenagers. Perhaps the day that Esme asked her opinion on a sculpture she was thinking of buying. Perhaps the day she and Jasper played a ferocious and interminable game of chess. Perhaps the day when Rosalie greeted her without too much disdain. Perhaps the day Emmett lifted her up above his head to congratulate her for winning the science fair. Perhaps the day my father, seized by a sudden inspiration, recounted his entire past to her.
Bella's curiosity encouraged revelations, and my father took great pleasure in telling her how everything began for him and how he had been led to his lifestyle today. When Bella had interrogated me on our journey to Seattle, I had recounted some of my family's history as it had concerned me. But out of respect for my parents and siblings' privacy, I hadn't gone into detail. I would let them decide if they wanted to share their pasts with Bella. Carlisle was the first to do so. Then Esme, and Emmett. It was only a matter of time before the others did it as well.
Quietly, naturally, Bella became one of us.
Our own routine changed. I still picked her up at her house for school, but lunch was different. Sometimes Alice joined us under our pine, flanked by Jasper, who kept his distance but missed nothing. Sometimes, Emmett dragged me off to play catch hidden in the forest alongside the football field. Although I still watched out for the three nomads, I allowed myself to relax my guard somewhat, because I knew that I wasn't alone in my vigilance: at least five other vampires were doing the same. I could breathe a bit, because wherever I was, a member of my family always had Bella in his or her sights. There was an irony in the fact of knowing that Bella was safe because and as long as she was surrounded by vampires. But nothing was truer, since compared to the nomads, my family was no danger at all. There was a drawback to our constant presence: if the nomads wanted to meet my family, they would inevitably pick up Bella's scent from us. But I chose to believe that we were her best protection.
Emmett and Jasper were happy to rediscover their wrestling partner in me. I was too. And even Bella, who couldn't see us act like boys, but could certainly hear it.
"Here, read this. I just wrote it. Tell me what you think of it," she told me, handing me a dot-covered paper one rainy Saturday we were spending at my house.
I obeyed, amused.
The composition was strange. Good, but some passage were odd.
"This doesn't seem suited for the piano."
"No, it's for three instruments: piano, violin and drum."
"Oh? Why those three?"
"It's what best describes you and your brothers."
I lifted an eyebrow. "It's a song about the three of us?"
"Yes. I've titled it 'The Bear, the Eagle and the Mountain Lion.' Together you are a trio from hell and I wanted to pay homage to that."
Our wrestling matches had inspired her.
I was impressed and flattered. Rereading the staff notations. I indeed discovered the wilderness of a vast forest reigned over by three predators.
"Let me guess: I'm the mountain lion?"
She nodded with a crystalline laugh. "Bingo!"
"And you have matched all three of us to a particular instrument?"
"Yes. I don't know how your family looks … I mean, I haven't seen them the way I've seen you. But I tried to imagine them and mentally associated them to an instrument."
I was curious to know her mental image of my siblings and parents. "Who is what?"
"Esme is a harp: gentle, vibrant, tender. Alice is a penny whistle, cheerful, playful, like a bird. Carlisle is a bass or a viola, deep and full of wisdom. Emmett, a drum, thunderous, imposing, forceful. Jasper, a tragic violin, tormented, incisive, swift. Rosalie, a slow saxophone, sensual, languorous, seductive, impetuous."
I liked her comparisons. Bella had used her musical ear to construct incredibly apt descriptions of us. I wasn't alone: even though no one else was in the living room, nobody had missed our conversation. Even Rosalie was flattered.
"And me?"
"A piano, of course."
We smiled at each other, as we often smiled at each other simultaneously and spontaneously.
"You have turned us into a veritable symphony orchestra."
"That's how I see you."
"You're a piano, too," I blurted.
I wanted to add that she and I were the same piano, not two separate ones. I was the black keys, she the white. I had already associated the two of us to a keyboard. My life was black, hers was white. My life was murky, hers was clear. But I realized that these keys, black and white, could not exist separately. They were next to each other, they accorded with each other. A piano was useless with just white keys or black. A keyboard was harmonious only if the white and black keys were mixed. A melody wasn't complete unless the ensemble of the keys was balanced. Bella and I were like that: we were different keys, but complementary - a single piano able to play the most astonishing symphonies.
My family, too, realized this. I had been an incomplete instrument before. Alone. But no longer.
Esme was relieved that solitude was not my constant companion, though she knew that my being friends with Bella wasn't enough. She lamented my refusal to tell Bella my real feelings: "She cares for you, dear. It's so easy to love you. Bella would welcome your declaration, I'm sure of it." I wanted to believe it, but alas, Esme was not objective. A mother's son was always perfect, always easy to love. She didn't see that it was impossible for there to be more than friendship between Bella and me.
Despite this one-sided love, I was happy. Carlisle thought that he had never seen me smile so much, be so cheerful. It was true: I was jubilant because the two most important elements of my existence were tied together: my beloved and my family.
I wasn't the only member of my family to be affected by my relationship. Emmett underestimated humans now less than before. The traces of Bella's scent in the house helped Jasper desensitize himself. And Bella helped all of us rediscover long-buried aspects of our old humanity.
In school, everyone had been astonished that Edward Cullen and Bella Swan had lunch together everyday under a tree. Her classmates were impressed that Bella was so comfortable being with me. And now that almost all my siblings talked to her, they started thinking that we weren't as forbidding as they had believed.
Some were even less uncomfortable about saying hello or asking a question. With a great effort, Angela Weber overcame her uneasiness with us. After they had won the science fair, she and Bella had ideas for other projects. Between classes or after school, Angela almost never hesitated to come and talk to Bella about their plans, even if my family was around. Once, Emmett had even interjected a comment into their discussion, and Angela had managed to avoid fainting dead away, which was quite an exploit: we were talking about Emmett, a grizzly bear of a man, after all.
For her part, Bella seemed happy, blossoming in our company. Her father gave her more freedom, observing that she always returned from my house smiling. She spent less time alone in her room and more in the outdoors, in the forest around our house.
I loved carrying her through the trees, just for the pleasure of hearing her delighted laughter as I leapt branch to branch. With me, she enjoyed a physical freedom she hadn't experienced since she was struck by blindness. She made up for lost time, rediscovering the carefree childhood her illness had stolen from her, In the forest, she ran, danced, climbed, skipped, just as she would have done as a girl if her lack of sight hadn't prevented it. Today, she could do all that thanks to the bulletproof bubble that stopped her from falling and took obstacles out of her path: me.
Charlie observed that she now had color in her cheeks, and noted as well her friendship with Alice, which meant new colors in her wardrobe. Charlie was pleased about the association with our family. If he only knew our nature, of course, his positive opinion of the Cullens would take a 180-degree turn. But we were good enough actors that we could avoid compromising situations. I didn't even feel that bad that Bella was forced to lie constantly about us. After all, I was making possible Charlie's secret wish that his daughter have friends, go out, enjoy her youth.
Rosalie was the only black cloud on the horizon. She constantly reminded us that Bella was going to ruin the family. And she didn't hesitate to say it in Bella's presence.
"Sure, let's just continue to pretend that she's not putting us all in danger, that nothing's going to wrong," Rosalie had spat out once.
Bella misunderstood her. "I promise you that I would never tell anyone. I swear it."
Bella believed that Rosalie feared for our safety. She didn't know just how closely my destiny was tied to hers and that my family would fall apart when she died. But I wasn't going to set her straight. She didn't need to know that – she would feel guilty, and who knows, maybe she would even suggest taking care of the problem by becoming one of us.
And that was out of the question. I didn't want Bella to miss a single minute of her life, a single stage of her existence, a single step in her growth as a person. She would live.
Emmett served as a buffer between Bella and Rosalie. He calmed her down and knew how to distract her.
Although my family knew that Rosalie was right, they couldn't bring themselves to resent Bella for what was going to happen in a few decades. They knew it wasn't her fault that I had chosen her. Some of them nurtured a dream that I would change her someday, but the more time they spent with her, the more they appreciated what it was to be human and agreed that a human life deserved to be lived. They envied her for it. Her mortality was precious, and taking it from her, even if she wanted that, would be sacrilege, and it didn't matter if that mean she would die one day.
Despite that imminent death, some of them hoped that everything wouldn't end in suffering and distress. Perhaps I would be able to mourn her without wanting to destroy myself, they thought. An impossibility.
Whatever our opinions and hopes, we had all more or less decided to live in the present and let destiny run its course. I enjoyed each blessed moment that Bella spent with me, with us. Together we made up a strange orchestra playing a highly unusual, but harmonious concert.
I never suspected that the discordant notes of another concert would soon interrupt our own …
T/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Speaking of discord, I have to go do my taxes now, boo...