Chapter Seven: One More Chance
Living with vampires isn't an experience that I can say I've had. Dying with vampires has always been a more apt description. And, as I've mentioned previously, at least dying around vampires is a fairly quick way to die.
Living with vampires however, posed some challenges.
"God, it stinks in here," Rosalie cried for the fourth time. She scrunched her nose at the smell of eggs that Esme was frying on the stove.
"I don't know babe," Emmett said flinging an arm around his wife and pulling her close. "Sort of reminds me of my own eating days. My Mom did a fry up every morning."
Esme chuckled as Rosalie continued to look disgusted, everyone could tell that the Cullen matriarch was thoroughly enjoying herself.
I felt awkward sitting at their kitchen table in my pajamas. But Alice had woken me excitedly this morning and dragged me downstairs before thoughts regarding my attire had yet to surface.
"It's very good," I assured Esme as she fluttered behind me. After a sharp glance from Rosalie I added, "But really you didn't have to go through all the trouble."
"Nonsense," Esme protested. "I've seen that cereal stuff that most people eat, it doesn't seem healthy."
I rather agreed with her so I decided to eat my breakfast in silence.
Alice had settled herself next to me and was smiling with an excitement I couldn't fathom.
"It's so nice to have you here," she said with a dreamy tone. "We can go shopping for your bed today, and I found a new store in Seattle that has the best clothes. And Esme has already gotten most of the other items you may need, but we can get some to suit you more…"
I sighed, "Really you don't-"
"Let me! Let me!" Alice moaned theatrically.
Rosalie rolled her eyes and huffed in a not-so-silent way.
I was starting to understand what Edward had meant, Alice was very hard to say no to.
"Did you wake her up?" Edward appeared suddenly and his eyes were such a light color of amber that I had little doubt what he had been up to this morning.
"I had to make sure she was alright," Alice argued.
"I told you she was."
I sat silently and ate more of my breakfast. I'd gathered that in the few hours I'd been sleeping quite a bit had happened. From what Alice had explained when she'd dragged me down for breakfast, she and the others had ventured into Canada for a day of hunting. Bears were starting to come out of hibernation and Emmett looked forward to this with great zeal. They'd planned on staying longer, considering that Alice's special weather predictions stated that today would be sunny as well. But then Alice had gotten a rather disturbing vision of me, a truck stop…and I hadn't really wanted to know what else she'd seen.
"You're different," she had mentioned, in as nice as way as she could. "It's hard to see what is going to happen to you until it's almost happening. Almost like I'm not getting all your input. I can see what that trucker wanted to do, what he was planning to do…but you weren't in focus."
I'd looked at the small ring burned around my wrist. We had learned the Delevi Ring from a group of Roma, gypsies, that practiced rituals so old that they themselves didn't know the reasons behind them. One of the twelve had been branded with it when he was a child growing up among them, but we quickly learned how useful it could be. The mark couldn't nullify a vampire's ability but Marius had learned that it did create interference. Although I was still at a loss to explain how it might effect Edward's mindreading ability to such a degree.
It had been a surprise that Alice had cut their trip short and dragged the others home. And her real honest concern had made it impossible for me not to warm up to the seer.
After their arrival, however, it seemed that some members of the household were a little…apprehensive, about having me in the house as a guest. I couldn't really blame them. Although it hadn't been said, I gathered that Rosalie and Jasper had been the main forces of contention- and they had lost their argument rather brutally. Jasper had remained silent, only watching me with nervous eyes. Rosalie had chosen to take her defeat with undisguised scorn toward any of my "human peculiarities".
Edward settled at the table beside me and he seemed to be accessing my condition, checking for any damage.
"I'm fine," I told him. "Better than actually, Esme really can cook."
I felt required to pay compliments on the food because Esme really did light up at any good word.
"Since she needs to eat, constantly," Rosalie added softly.
Edward shot his sister a glance and I pretended not to hear.
"I'm taking her shopping today," Alice stated in a challenging manner directing the conversation toward herself instead of the silent war that was still brewing between Edward and Rosalie.
"Why," Edward asked.
"You had her all last night," Alice argued, as I were a new toy or perhaps a family pet.
Carlisle, who had been reading the newspaper, seemed to have thought the same thing because a faint chuckle wandered out from behind hus newspaper.
Edward seemed to note this and the pause drew out.
"I'll come too," he stated instead.
Alice rolled her eyes, "Fine, you can be one of the girls."
Edward seemed to accept this dig to his masculinity with nary a blink.
"I'm not going," Rosalie argued.
Alice looked shocked, "But it's going to be cloudy in Seattle after noon," she argued.
"I don't have anything I need to buy," Rosalie said in a stilted tone.
Everyone, including myself, stopped and stared at the well groomed blonde beauty. Rosalie, not needing to go shopping?
And then Edward laughed. Rosalie turned beet red and stormed from the room, her fists curling at her side. The display didn't seem out of character at all, although Carlisle did raise one admonishing eyebrow in Edwards direction. Once again I was reminded of Edward's unique skill and my own interesting way of avoiding it. It was a skill that I imagined Rosalie would be covetous of, I caught Edward's eye curiously and he shook his head in amusement.
I managed to escape a day of shopping easier than I had anticipated. Of course my current freedom would be forfeited when Alice returned home. I'd been forced to give her carte blanche regarding her purchases as well as a girl's night where in I expected to be forced to try on every item in my new ensemble. Somehow the idea of a slumber party was one of Alice's deepest desires. I wondered what else I'd be enduring this evening. I'd always known vampires were sadists, but I thought Alice took it a step further.
But that was how I'd managed to snag an afternoon listening to Edward play the piano.
He tended toward moody, thoughtful pieces, the sort fit for daydreaming. Debussy, Rachmaninoff,Chopin. I'd settled on a small couch that had surprisingly appeared in his music room, my legs were tucked under my knees, my hands folded on the armrest and my eyes staring blindly into the nature that was evident through the wide windows.
Vampires can stay still for long periods of time, humans fidget. And while I wasn't still as a statue, I'd found that being with Edward made it easier for the inner me to be more apparent.
Humans move, they have an incessant need for momentum, maybe because every second, every moment, pieces of their body are aging, dying, changing. They must sense this constant progression, they must sense how short it can all be.
Make the most of this life, it's the only one you've got.
Someone said that once, and it made much of my existence come into perspective. Because, when there are so many lives yet to live, it sort of takes away the rush. The fluttering ticking of my little clock had stopped long ago, and I was happy to enjoy the long pieces of the present.
"Tell me a story," Edward said softly.
I smiled. It had become our game.
"A true one?" I asked, but the question wasn't serious.
"Tell me one from your first life," he asked instead.
I paused, uncertainly. "Is this your way of trying to find out how old I am?" I evaded.
"I want to know you," he persisted, his fingers still sliding seductively over the ivory keys as the music poured out.
"Okay," I took a breath and let my mind stumble over the memories at my disposal. "When I was a child my mother kept asps."
"The poisonous snakes?" Edward asked and he seemed slightly hesitant.
"Yes," I chuckled. "She had a pair of them. And she told me the story of Cleopatra, and of how Egypt was before the Romans. She said Cleopatra had chosen her own death over a life of imprisonment, and had killed herself with the bite of an asp. My mother loved that story, but I was always terrified of those snakes, they have cold eyes.
"Once I was in the garden and I came upon a wild one sunning itself. I froze, I was so terrified. But my mother found me, and I know you'll think I'm lying but she had a way with snakes. She was fluid and agile like they were, I remember when she carried me away-I thought I'd never known anyone more miraculous."
Edward's music carried on.
"She died when I was very young," I said softly. "Childbirth; she was trying for another girl."
Edward took in my story silently. I wondered what he thought of it, had he put together the clues already. I knew he was smart, but was he able to devise the story of my life that I didn't want him to know.
"Why Cleopatra," he asked curiously.
"She was related to my mother in some distant way," I said absently.
Edward chuckled, "We're a strange pair," he decided.
You have no idea, I thought sadly.
Playing dress up with Alice was rather painless, except for the mind numbing fatigue that threatened to consume me. Vampires don't need to sleep, a fact I was very easily reminded of when Alice decided to put on another movie somewhere around three in the morning. I felt as if my body was about to drop.
Thankfully we had run through the clothes Alice had purchased a few hours ago, and the vampire had really enjoyed her life-sized Barbie doll. Truthfully, not that I was in the mood to admit the truth, I had liked many of the things Alice had gotten for me. And I was trying, as Edward had suggested, to learn to accept Alice's abundance as gifts and not charity.
"How long are you planning to keep her up?" Edward asked from the doorway.
Alice frowned but her gaze turned to me and she smiled in that strangely fond way that I'd gotten used to. Edward had been right, it was odd to have an 'instant' best friend, as it were.
"Alright," she relented with a somewhat amused tone. She rose to her feet with a motion that seemed to belie any sense of transition; one moment she was sitting, then she was standing.
I rubbed my neck as my own body got to its feet more laboriously.
"Night, Bella," Alice said softly, "Let's have fun tomorrow too!"
Her exuberance was growing on me, or it must be because I couldn't help but smile. Maybe a part of me was hungry for a friend too.
Edward trailed behind me as we went to the room that had become mine. I'd grown strangely fond of my little library, or so I liked to think of it. A large bed, one that was ridiculously so, had been moved to into the small space. As well as a collection of clothes and other necessities that Alice and Esme had deemed necessary for my health and happiness. Edward had been no help in limiting their spree. He seemed to enjoy the way that they pampered me.
And Rosalie, oddly enough, had also contributed in her own way. She was a surprising person, beneath all the prickle, I had the feeling that she would like to join in. Except sometimes her eyes grew cold and her lips puckered unpleasantly, then she'd pull away again.
"It's been awhile since we've considered bedtimes," Edward muttered as I climbed into the sheets.
Tonight there would be no need for any additional human preparation. It had been part of the slumber party ritual that Alice and I be prepared for bed. Although I wondered if Alice would get dressed now, it wasn't as if she was going to sleep.
"Hmm," I smiled softly, looking around the shelves with tired eyes. I liked lying here and letting my eyes skim the titles. I'd read some, others I'd never even heard of.
"Hope Carlisle doesn't mind," I said twisting closer into my pillow.
"Carlisle?"
"I'm stealing his study I suppose," I said lifting my arm slightly and gesturing to the walls.
"His study is downstairs," Edward said sounding confused.
"Then this?" I tilted my head.
"My room," Edward said.
I blinked, "Yours." Somehow that concept hadn't entered my mind.
This was Edward's room. I looked around with new interest. Perhaps I should have guessed, music and books, some abstract paintings done in muted tones with shadowy figures. Even the walls were done in a light silvery blue that reminded me of him.
It was no wonder that I felt so at home here.
Edward settled against the bed, his back leaning on the running board and his face looking away from me. It was easy to become relaxed as such, my silent protector watching over me. I wished, silently, that he really could protect me from all the monsters in this world.
"Edward," I said with my mind twisting slowly.
"Yes," he answered his own voice solid and without the sleepy tinge of my own.
"I might not be able to stay much longer."
"They won't hurt you," Edward promised me with a steadiness that seemed to stretch on. Like some powerful promise.
"Not that," I muttered, rolling my eyes and pulling the blankets tighter around me. He would be concerned about his family, suddenly his silent vigil took on more meaning. "Mr. Winters won't keep me. I'll be sent back."
"You were just here till she died," he said softly, perhaps only realizing this for the first time.
"Yes," I answered.
It was silent for a time. I wondered what he was thinking, and he was likely wondering the same thing. My silent mind kept him at arms length, likely something he both hated and adored.
"It won't matter," he stated, a cold hand slipping between the blankets to hold mine gently.
His palm in mine registered weakly as my tired thoughts flittered across the space of my mind. And even though I heard his words, I couldn't help but doubt. Maybe it was the empty sounding caveat in his tone. Because Edward was no fool.
I watched him for a moment and his eyes looked blank. Did he know how fragile happiness could be? He'd grown apart from this world, and I'd been in it for too long
The weekend went too quickly, but also slowly. It was a juxtaposed collection of days where time didn't really matter. In a strange way it reminded me of being with the twelve, because time didn't mean much to us either. But being with Edward in his family was, as strange as it may seem, a kinder gentler sort of existence. The twelve were so often devoted to Marius's task, and the unending task of killing vampires had made them warped. They lied and manipulated, polished their killing skills-and it did little good to pretend that I wasn't among them, as much as I may want to.
But living with the Cullens wasn't about such a destructive fixation, time flowed smoothly as everyone focused on their own interests. It was even easy to forget about the world that existed outside their home and all the dangers that existed in it.
Alice would play with her various toys and then stare dreamlike into a future we couldn't envision. Rarely did she seem to see the need to share whatever fates she saw, although I had seen her move to a computer and fiddle around with the Cullen's stock portfolio from time to time.
Jasper had a fascination with history, and he'd settle with a book still as a statue. Few things roused him, Alice being one of them. He was always aware whenever she went into one of her visions and his attention would be utterly focused on her until she emerged from it. His unique ability to sense emotions allowed him insight into whether what she was seeing caused her concern or happiness. But his attention, regardless, was somewhat softening, despite his homicidal tendencies. Not that I hadn't lived with casual killers before.
Esme was always loosing herself in art, but then would flip from introspection to a hectic flurry of activity as she sketched out new plans for new homes. And she was really too kindhearted, news reports could bring her to tears. I wondered exactly how much of the Cullen fortune was spent on Esme's acts of kindness. I suppose I'd even stopped seeing her as a vampire because even with my new appreciation for their kind, I was left with her seeming to angelic to be real.
Rosalie's vanity was almost enduring as I observed how seriously she took it. She might have been born with a natural beauty, but she also had the skill of a surgeon when it came to dressing her form and meticulously applying the smallest trace of make-up to hide any illusionary imperfections.
And Carlisle, the father. He too was kind like his wife, but he was also driven in a manner that I couldn't help but find suspicious. What terrible sins was he so desperately trying to repent? And his faith, it defined him more than even medicine did. The Christian religion failed to strike a reverence with me, I'd known gods much older than theirs. But still I envied him that faith.
Emmett was the one that amazed me the most, in his own way. He was simple in his needs and wants, perhaps why he and Rosalie got along so well. And yet I found it fascinating how absorbed he still was by the life that moved around us. I'll admit that despite the humanity that clung to me, even I'd lost interest in repetitive human struggles. And yet Emmett seemed to see them all as new and fresh and fascinating. He was truly remarkable.
And then Edward…
Love is a selfish thing I was finding. As much as I enjoyed Alice's company, we'd been playing dress up for the past two hours now, somehow my time with her just wasn't as enjoyable the time spent with Edward. And I found I wanted some time with just him.
It was Sunday night, all homework had been finished early and Esme had made me another delicious dinner. She was hovering nearby watching me eat it while Rosalie did her nails at the table.
I had to admit, I felt more pretty than usual. Which is very hard to do when one is seated next to Fork's most esteemed blonde beauty. But Alice had seen fit to dress me for dinner this evening, she had chosen a knit dress made of the deepest blue. It wrapped around my waist in a comfortable way. I would always be more the jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, perhaps it was the faint memory of corsets that had me yearn for the casual…but this was nice at times too.
I found myself wishing Edward could see me like this. I'd never dressed special for him.
But it was foolish, of course. Humans didn't look very appealing physically to vampires, or so I'd been told very rudely once. Something about vampire sight being able to see each and every pore, we looked dimpled and plain compared to their marble magnificence.
I ate softly thinking about this.
Because I still would like Edward to see me like this, if only just this once, I thought I was a little pretty.
"Finally," Alice said under her breath as the door rattled open.
I turned, and there he stood. I struggled to swallow the food in my mouth. Perfect.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly.
"Ready?" I questioned.
He looked confused for a moment and his gaze drifted to Alice, and the confusion faded with a groan.
"You were supposed to tell her," he said, but not seeming terrible surprised at the smirk that his sister wore.
"It's not my job to ask her out on a date for you," she said with a little more bright humor than I might have expected.
"What?" I asked.
Edward paused, then turned with a slight shift to his body.
"Bella, would you perhaps consent to spending…would you like to…" He seemed to be struggling for the words. He frowned and looked at me intently, in the annoyed way his expression sometimes took when he couldn't read my mind.
"If I asked you to go out with me…on a date…"
I cringed slightly at the word 'date' and he picked up on it.
"Would you say yes," he finished rather lamely.
I looked at the women who were gathered in the room watching me intently, Alice and Esme were brimming with excitement and amusement, Rosalie looked like she wished vampires could vomit.
"Sure," I said feeling rather strange about it myself.
"Ok…um, is now ok?"
I looked down at the dress that Alice had strategically dressed me in, and nodded.
We were whisked out the dining room by Alice and Esme's excitement, and the feelings of anticipation that such an event might rise in me were diminished by the trifle awkwardness that had arose of the situation. I found myself casting furtive glances at Edward as he opened the door to an expensive looking automobile, but perhaps he felt it too since he seemed reluctant to meet my eye.
We drove in silence for a bit.
"Date much?" I finally said, my voice sounding odd.
Edward flickered an unreadable emotion, "No."
"You must have dated some, when you were…younger." And human, I added silently.
He cast me an amused glance. "No, you didn't date as casually as they do today, not in my family anyway. My mother was…" he struggled to find the words, but perhaps his memories failed him because he merely shrugged.
"What about you?" he asked.
"Dates?" I said and my mood must have shown through in one word.
"You don't like them?" he asked honestly curious.
"I never saw the point," I replied.
"Why?" he asked, he wasn't paying any attention to the road anymore even though the speeds were climbing radically.
"They seemed silly," I said not wanting to explain myself anymore than that.
"Oh," he said, that faint annoyance leaking into his tone.
"We don't have to go on one," I argued suddenly, "I don't mind, we don't have to pretend."
"Pretend?" he questioned.
"We're not normal," I said with a sigh.
"I love you though," he said simply.
I paused, for a moment and let the words sink in. "I know" I said softly.
"This is what people in love do," he replied, "They go out, they show each other what they like."
My curiosity was piqued. "Where are we going?" I asked.
Edward smiled in a soft unrevealing way. "You'll see."
Break
I hadn't realized we had driven so far in such a short time, but then with Edward's passion for speed it seemed like we had only been driving for a short while before I realized we were driving into a town, Bremerton a sign read. In the distance a glow of large buildings towered, lighting up the sky and making the stars fade away. And brighter still, sticking out like glowing tendrils the docks reached out. A navel yard was here, or so I thought I remembered. But that was some distance ahead, and instead tall trees still hung heavily in the night sky as we drove through an older part of the city, the inland land that hadn't yet been built upon.
The car stopped and parked on a side street of a small neighborhood, falling into place with others who were similarly lined up. It seemed an odd place for a crowd, and I couldn't help but wonder what Edward wanted to show me.
The building that we walked towards was old, perhaps the oldest structure in the surroundings, it was made of roughly hewn stone and some brick. But the windows were what caught my eye and made me remember other places. The colored glass was rich and detailed, and the soft light from inside made them glow like lanterns on the darkened street.
It was a church.
I glanced up at Edward in confusion.
His cold hand rested in mine, and it was comfortable now, not alarming. Even his scent, which at times had brought on pangs of fear, seemed soft and pleasant now. I had grown comfortable with this vampire.
We opened the doors discreetly, but I felt like a trespasser as I entered. I had never prayed to the Christian god, though I admired the philosophy that had been created. I had been brought up believing in older things.
But Edward seemed to share my unease, and his hand tightened in mine. Perhaps we both felt like blasphemers here.
But then the music started, rising like a lone voice and soaring with a tone and strength that no human could possess. The sound carried upward into arching ceiling, brushing along the paintings and coming back to consume me again. It was a lonely, lovely sound and my eyes were drawn to it's source, a old man who stood rigidly straight on the dais. His shockingly white hair stood out brightly in the dimly lit chapel.
The clarinet is such a sorrowful instrument, filled with a rich sound, it can be happy and light but somehow it drags at my soul.
And it was Chopin, of course it was.
We sat together, toward the rear of the church and as time passed my head rested gently on Edward's shoulder. It was hard, stone-like even, but his corduroy jacket was soft against my cheek.
Edward's gaze remained rather fixed on the old man who played. The musician seemed unaware, even uninterested in his surroundings as the music he created poured around us. I relaxed and I let my eyes wander around me, my gaze resting on the different people who shared this night with us.
They were a strange collection of people, some older, some younger, some devout, some simple music lovers. The music styles changes, a few popular songs even. I exchanged glances with Edward, wondering if perhaps he remembered when they had come out, his amber gaze met mine and the weak smile we shared made me feel connected.
I found myself feeling a strange urge, the type in my long life I'd never felt before. The heat of it ran up my spine and centered itself in my abdomen, taking with a it a slight tremor and thrill. I felt myself reach out, as though the impulse was directing me and not my mind, my hand rested on Edwards shoulder and drifted up toward his face. My finger brushed his jaw line, it trailed up his lips.
I could feel him freeze beneath my touch, his body tightly wound like a spring. He looked at he sideways through slited eyes.
I found myself wanting to be with Edward, wanting things I hadn't wanted before. I was hardly totally innocent, but I'd never before felt a thrill of passion.
It moved me.
The drive back to Edward's home in the dark was somehow sensual. Or maybe it was the way that as we drove through the dark roads, my hand drifted over Edward and how he, ever so nervously, allowed his hands to move over me.
It was very innocent, a slight brush of finger tips, a smooth pressure of fingers sliding along a thigh, his hand brushing my shoulder collarbone and sliding slightly lower to stop at the slight swell of my breast, my hand drifting down his chest. I longed do more, and sensed Edward did too. But this was enough, this sweet exploration, our fingers toying and testing.
The drive home was all too short.
When we reached his home I felt us both try to reign back in the rush of energy and excitement that still coursed through our veins. He kept his hands on the wheel, mine were neatly folded in my lap. But our eyes met and the same energy we'd been keeping tame crackled between us. He moved, I moved and our lips seemed to meet in a crushing, hungry kiss. His hands moved so speedily to my waist, his grip nearly too tight.
He stopped.
I stopped.
We both sat, our breath coming is soft short gasps.
"I'll be along shortly," Edward said quietly, his amber eyes meeting mind.
I nodded and stood up, exiting the car with a hurried pace, almost as if I were escaping something. I took my own soothing breath before I entered the Cullen home, trying to shake the feelings form this evening. However when I opened the door Jasper and Alice stood poised on the steps, a knowing smile on their lips.
"I…I -" there was nothing to say. "Edward is still in the car," I finally muttered before escaping them and running up the stairs.
Their soft laughter followed me up the stairs, and my face colored in the deepest red embarrassment. It was late, or later than I might normally stay up on a Sunday night. I quickly got ready for bed and tucked myself between the sheets, pulling one of the books off Edward's wall to read. I sat like that, curled in bed, reading the same sentence over and over again, because for some reason I couldn't let go of this happiness. It kept me warm and slowly, I felt myself slip into a warm and welcome tiredness. I turned the light off and closed my eyes.
Just as I was starting to drift into slumber, I heard the door open and a quiet sound next to my bed alerted me that my silent protector had returned. I was so close to sleep, but still my hand drifted to the edge of the bed and I felt myself fully and truly relax as a cold hand took hold of mine.
Going to school had never seemed stranger than that Monday after spending a weekend at the Cullen home. If you had asked me only the previous Friday if such a thing might have been possible, I'd have said 'no' with the resolution of centuries. But here I was emerging not only alive, but also well rested and fed.
It was hard not to be in a good mood, and so I was smiling slightly when Edward and I walked up to the school side by side. The parking lot was in its usual state of disorder, cars moving haphazardly. Really it seemed quite dangerous considering the chill of the morning had left ice lingering on the blacktop.
Maybe my focus on the possible danger was what alerted me to the honk of a horn, something I might have otherwise ignored.
I turned my head, peering past Edward's shoulder, meeting a sight I hadn't expected.
Mr. Winter's old truck was parked near the curb, his face peering through the crowd of students and meeting my own eyes. I don't recall if I'd ever really looked the man in the eye before. We'd shared meals and even a few stunted conversations but his gaze had never really caught my own.
"Edward," I said softly.
Maybe it was my tone, but Edward stopped dead and his spine stiffened in an almost predatory manner.
"Mr. Winters," I explained, gesturing toward the old pick up truck.
He turned and could likely see the man better than me, "It's okay," Edward said steadily.
I began to move away from his side but Edward fell into step behind me, and I was oddly comforted by his presence. It was strange for me that I was worried about all this. What did it really matter if Mr. Winters sent me back?
But I knew why it mattered. Because being in Forks, living here like a normal teenager, had brought me to meet Edward and his family. And I'd gone passed pretending to fit in, to actually feeling as if I did. I had liked my life here, taking care of the Winters, trading stories with Edward, even playing dress up with Alice and chatting casually with Jessica and Mike. It had been this wonderful sort of dream, and I hadn't wanted to wake up yet.
I stood awkwardly beside the driver's door.
"Didn't know where to get you," Mr. Winters muttered. He wasn't meeting my gaze and I thought he still looked a little pale and thin. His clothes looked formal, or at least more so than I had ever seen them: a crisp white shirt, a worn navy blazer, clean, dark denim jeans.
"Funeral today," he said softly.
"Oh," I answered. Mrs. Winters hadn't exactly left my thoughts, but I had no turmoil to attach her to my memories. She was resting now, and wherever the soul went after the end of this life, hers was there now.
"Didn't know if you wanted to…" He trailed off awkwardly.
The silence hung between us, and he didn't seem to want to press my answer.
"My sister wants me to stay with her," he mentioned after the time had dragged. But there was a doubtful quality to his tone.
I looked up and for a moment I caught his gaze. Mr. Winters looked away quickly, but I'd seen his eyes. They were red rimmed and glassy, but a very sharp shade of blue. He stared down at the steering wheel.
"Don't know if you want to, don't know if they'd let you, but if you wanted to, you couldcome back." His words were muttered weakly. There was a disturbing lack of passion it was even difficult to determine what sort of answer he'd rather hear, or if I was even understanding the question accurately.
"What time in the funeral," I asked instead, staring down at the door of his pickup.
"Ten," he said looking at his clock.
I nodded.
"I won't be home for dinner tonight," he said. He stared ahead, "But by tomorrow. You still have the key?"
I nodded dumbly.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickered in my direction briefly. But without any additional words he shifted gears and drove away. I was left standing on the pavement watching the old truck leave and wondering what this meant. But as the shards of our conversation fell into order, I was left feeling the warm glow of relief.
"He actually wants you to stay," Edward assured me. His curious gaze following the truck as it turned away. "You cook better than his sister."
I smiled. Nothing in this life is forever, but Mr. Winters had granted my happiness a reprieve.
I was earning another bad reputation in school. Maybe Edward was too, but then no one ever seemed to mind when the Cullen kids were absent. I'd skipped last Friday for obvious reasons, and this Monday was occupied with watching a very familiar scene.
The weather had gone back to being cold and rainy, and spare drops fell from the sky in a half hearted manner. I looked out through the branches of a tree, glad the rain was largely blocked by the thick branches, no foliage yet of course but the old branches acted as a sort of umbrella.
"What are they saying," I asked Edward. He was standing behind me so closely I need only take a half step back to be pressed into his chest. A part of me wanted to do that, perhaps some human desire to seek out warmth on his cold blustery day. But I stayed where I was.
"They are talking about her life," Edward said softly. "Are you sure you don't want to…"
"I've been to too many of these," I said softly. "But she was nice to me."
I felt a cold hand on my shoulder.
"We don't spend much time being close to humans," he said softly.
"Easier," I said simply.
"Yes," Edward answered, "And we don't want to hurt anyone."
That was constantly on his mind I noted, that he was going to hurt me, or if not him than one of his family. I wished there was a way to tell him that such a thing was impossible. But it was true enough.
Still…
I took Edward's hand in my own, his larger palm didn't hold neatly into mine and instead I wrapped my fingers around four fingers and held tightly. I strummed my thumb along his palm, sliding it along the smooth texture.
"This doesn't matter Edward," I said softly. "This body." I lifted our clasped hands to rest on my collarbone. "It's only the envelope, it's the letter that's important."
His cold hand came alive, his fingers brushed my skin with the softness of a feather.
But he pulled away, as he always did and I didn't want to see his face.
"But saying something like that, about envelopes and letters, it won't make much difference to them." I gestured to the people at the graveside and once again Mr. Winter's distant profile caught my gaze. He was turned away from me, and I couldn't see his face. But his shoulders looked slightly hunched as if he were struggling to stay warm in the cold day. But it wasn't the temperature that was keeping him looking so broken.
"Let's go back to school," I said turning around. I briefly glanced at Edward and his expression was closed off.
I had a feeling that my words about envelopes and letters were jarring for him.
"Alright," he said.
Something was bothering Edward, I knew this in an absent way. I also knew that no matter what I said or did, the problem wouldn't be fixed. This was something that Edward would have to sort out on his own. So as he drove me back to school I absorbed the silence in the car with only the slightest unease.
"I think I'll go to the Winter's house tonight, get it ready," I said as we got to school.
Edward hesitated noticeably, his gaze dropping and trailing along the ground. "You don't have to," he said softly.
He was rather unreadable at times.
"I'll give you some time, all of you. None of you have gone hunting all weekend. But, Edward, thank you." I wanted to touch him, run my hands across his face and rest my head on his shoulder. But I didn't know if he wanted that right now, so let my eyes linger on his face.
He stayed silent at that, and I guessed that I had been right. Mrs. Winters death might have effected Edward even more than it had me. He was reminded, almost painfully of how human I was and what exactly that meant. Even if my soul had more leeway than most, who could guess how things might change.
Edward offered to give me a lift home after school, but I'd watched his family's faces and, with the exception of Alice, they all seemed eager to be on their way. We'd managed to make it back to the school in time for lunch and, to Edward's displeasure, I'd been gifted to hearing about how they all intended to resume the grizzly hunting trip that my truck stop fiasco had cut short. Emmett had been particularly vivid in the details of how exactly one subdued an enraged bear. The ideal location for this adventure was in the Canadian Rockies, and they hoped to get in some hunting before it grew dark.
I didn't mind and nudged Edward with a smile. I had a feeling it had been some time since he had wetted his appetite for the more adventurous fare, and had likely been lasting on the local deer population.
"You'll be careful," he asked, running a cold thumb against my and gently.
"No truck stops, no walking by the side of the road, I'll just do my homework on the bus and be safely at home," I promised feeling somewhat foolish.
"Don't go into the woods," he added.
I sighed, "Edward, I'm not…"
He interrupted me quickly, "Forgive my caution," he said softly. "It's been a long time since I've considered how fragile…" the trailed off weakly.
"But I'm not," I said.
Our eyes met and he fingers ghosted across my cheek, "Yes, you are."
"I'm choosing to see this as cute and caring, instead of scarily overprotective," I warned him. "And, hey, whatever happened to me not being as fragile as most human, remember," I glanced around, "I'm not exactly normal either.
He stared into nothing for a moment, and I wanted to toss his line back to him, because I really wanted to know what he was thinking. But the silence dragged on, and the somber weight in his eyes left me numb to asking questions that maybe, maybe I didn't want answered.
"We'll be back later tomorrow, it's going to be sunny. But…I'll see you."
"Okay," I nodded.
He paused to look at me for a moment and I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to rejoin his family.
Emmet seemed to see the gesture and smiled, "Come on brother, she's sick of you. Time for some hiking, alright." He shouted across the parking lot and few heads turned. Rosalie seemed to be hiding a smile.
I boarded the bus, allowing my eyes to follow the silver Volvo, and did my best smile cheerfully as its driver scanned the windows for my face. I wasn't sick of Edward Cullen, as broken and confusing as he could be, not even close.
It was odd how mess seemed to accumulate even when no one was there to make it. I could have sworn that I had done the dishes that night before Mrs. Winters had died, and yet a fair amount seemed to have accumulated in the sink during my absence. Maybe dirty dishes spawned when we turned out backs.
Still, there was something soothing about my hands in the warm water, the sounds of the tap flowing and the faint scent of soap. It had been pleasant for a few days to have Esme take care of me, to be bundled into the protectiveness of the Cullen family. But I had lived for much longer in a different role.
I hadn't lied when I told Esme what my ability came in the form of taking care of people. I didn't have many other skills, but in this one I had grown oddly dependent on.
"Hullo."
The voice sent a chill down my spine. It was a beautiful voice, a young girl who sounded like a slightly annoyed angel.
I swallowed and did my best to remain calm, setting the dish I had been washing on the sink and turning with a steady step. My teeth worried my lip nervously though, and I couldn't seem to stop this nervous habit.
Jane, a monster from my past, stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her pale brown hair pulled back from her face in a style that had long gone out of fashion. Her face was relatively expressionless, almost like a doll, but her dark red eyes flickered with tinges of emotion. And she was annoyed.
"Nice to see you again," I lied. But politeness isn't dead, even if she was.
"I don't know why he sent me to get you," she complained like an annoyed child might.
"I'm surprised you could find me," I mentioned.
She flashed some anger and tossed her head back.
"Aro owed Marcus a favor," Jane intoned before turning her dark gaze on me."So we have a flight to Italy, you're not going to pack anything are you?" She looked at me letting me know what wastefulness that seemed to her.
I eyed the bag of my belongings that still hung by the door, my luggage from my brief stay at the Cullen home. The silly little cat statue was also still inside. A few items from Alice. It struck me then that Edward had never given me anything, only his love and my life. But it was better that way.
"No," I said with a weak shrug. I wouldn't need them anymore.
Jane smiled at her perceived notion regarding my docile obedience. She always enjoyed lording her power over me. I was older than her, in a manner of speaking, but I'd seen her growing power when she had been a newly turned vampire. I'd never felt it, none of the Volturi had laid a hand on me, (figuratively or literally) but I knew she liked to drive people mad with the pain she could inflict.
Suddenly a fear gripped me, one that I'd never known.
Alice mustn't see this, she mustn't send anyone to rescue me this time. Edward must not see this because, while Jane might not be allowed to injure me, the Cullen family was another story. Jane might look like a little girl, with her china doll features, but she was a ruthless killer whose age challenged all except Carlisle. And she would enjoy fighting them, if it came to that. And she would destroy them while I watched. I could accept my own loss in this, it was part of the game I'd chosen to play, but I wouldn't sacrifice the Cullens.
"We should leave now," I urged.
"What's the rush?" she asked, suddenly looking curious.
"Why put off the inevitable," I answered steadily, my tone sounding desolate even to my ears. But I hadn't given up hope. I knew Alice's ability concerning me was somewhat fuzzy, I could only hope that by shifting the future rapidly perhaps she wouldn't be able to see and tell Edward.
For a moment, Jane's expression seemed to soften, if even only ever so slightly. "It's all rather pointless isn't it," she said with no trace of emotion. "Well, let's go then."
The car waiting outside was immaculate, shiny and bright red. Jane, who looked like she might barely qualify for a learners permit, climbed behind the wheel looking bored. I slid in beside her, the smell of leather did nothing to quiet the rolling in my stomach. We needed to leave, now, before the Cullens could come for me. Before Alice could see whatever it was that she saw when it came to me.
I tried not to watch the trees as we drove away, I didn't turn around to glance back at the Winter's home, I didn't even let my eyes drift toward the direction of the high school as we passed through town. I let the town of Forks fall away like some sort of dream and stared ahead steadily.
"Why do you enjoy this game, the both of you?" Jane asked as she stared ahead.
"I don't," I said.
She scoffed, "It's the only thing that interests him anymore," she said her gaze drifting to me, "And you make it so easy."
"When life is brief," I said softly, "You make plans for the time you have, but when life is long you take the moments you can get and you accept the consequences that may come."
She sneered, her cold lips showing a hint of white teeth.
"You wouldn't understand," I said staring into the woods and greenery.
"I'm immortal," she growled, stepping harder onto the gas as we raced across the pavement.
I decided not to argue anymore. Maybe someday Jane would understand, but I doubted it. She might be immortal but in my mind she was still very young. She had spent all of her timelessness among Aro's collection. Time moved differently among the Volturi, it was almost as if time didn't move at all. It was like how life could be when the twelve were together, we were immune to the flow of time.
She drove us to a small airport close to Forks, it was the sort of airfield that only saw small single-engine planes. It was home to the search and rescue planes and helicopters that were used when tourists went missing in the woods. Except today the small field was also home to a shiny silver plane that looked beautiful and still somewhat fragile.
We climbed aboard and a very human looking pilot seemed to nod at Jane in a subservient manner. That had been an aspect of the Volturi that always left a bad taste in my mouth. They would easily take on human servants when needed, poor fools who had some dream of immortality, but they would only ever be dreams as their lives were discarded as casually as fast-food napkins.
"Casa, Benito," Jane said her Italian flowing smoothly.
The pilot nodded, "Si, signorina."
Jane retreated into a seat as the plane began its preparations for departure. Benito, the pilot, had obviously been told to keep ready as it took only a short amount of time for the plane to be prepared to take to the air. I couldn't help but be grateful, I'd been lucky enough already that Alice's antennae hadn't picked up any of this.
I was happy that Edward wasn't coming. I was happy that he wouldn't be caught in this. I was happy I wouldn't have to see his face while I left. I was happy that he didn't know I was going to certain death.
I knew all this, and yet a part of me I refused to acknowledge, ached to feel his arms wrapped around me one more time. If I had known that our last moment together would have been the last I might have treasured it a little more. But I'd been foolish once again and forgotten how breakable all this could be. It had been so long since I'd treasured anything, how easily you forgot.
Edward had been right when he'd said what we had was fragile. Because even if my soul wasn't, this chance we had was. How many years would it be before I would be able to find him again, how long would I spend alone knowing exactly how lonely I was. Or would I be scooped back into Marius's crusade.
I didn't cry, I wouldn't. This was my life, and I had made my choice. I'd lived it.
As we took to the air I scanned the green below me. I closed my eyes and wished as I never allowed myself to do. Let me have another chance, I asked, another chance to see Edward and know him. After my many lifetimes I'd never once prayed for another. How often had I wished that this would be the last, that all this would end and I'd finally reach the conclusion of this long life. But just this once I did.
Give me another chance.