Chapter 5: Adjustments

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Carlisle

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A strange smell caught my nose as I drove up the drive from the main road. It took me a moment to place and even longer to equate to the little home in the woods. Even more curious, it was not Esme who was sitting on the steps of our porch waiting for me but Edward. He had a book open in his lap, the same one he had been reading that morning when I left.

Is it that good? I asked. He just shook his head. A strange noise came from the second story window. What on earth is going on? I thought to him. He just jerked his head toward the door. I was halfway inside when he finally spoke.

"If she asks you to go to the store tell her humans have to sleep and it's closed," Edward said ruefully. "And I think I'll skip our outing tonight. I really do want to finish this book."

Shaking my head I went inside only to be stopped in my tracks by what I saw.

Was it even the same house? Had I taken a wrong turn? No. This was the same structure and there was Edward's piano lovingly covered by a drop-cloth. The room was completely transformed. All of the furniture was moved out (save the piano). The old wood paneling was now bright white, even the ceiling. The floor had been sanded completely from wall to wall revealing the lighter color of the unexposed wood and the baseboards around the room had been painted a warm cream.

The strange noise upstairs brought me out of my shock and I hurried to the stairs in search of it. The source was Esme prying the crumbling chair rail off of the walls of my study. All of my things were crowding the hallway in a precarious array. I stopped in the door to stare. The same transformation was underway here as well. She was had clearly cleaned everything top to bottom before even beginning, leaving the air thick with swirling dust-motes.

"Oh," She jumped when she saw me, so engrossed in her work she'd missed my arrival. "Carlisle. You're home." She grinned at me brightly, the smile I was afraid I was going to miss. Suddenly I didn't care about the complete disarray so long as she was happy. There was a new light in her eyes and a fullness in her cheeks.

"I'm sorry about this, I thought it would go a lot faster than it's been," she said nervously.

"No," I shook my head. "Downstairs looks… different."

"Well it's not finished. I have to wait to varnish the floors and the walls are still wet. The ceiling needs another coat. I ran out of things to do and… well I think I got a bit carried away."

I couldn't help but laugh at how innocently happy she sounded.

"I didn't know the house bothered you," I said.

"It doesn't really, I just needed something to do. I tried sewing but I still don't know my own strength, I keep ripping the fabric and thread. I end up making anything I try to mend worse—heavens though I have a lot of mending to do. I turned to cleaning. There were a few little things I knew I could fix around the house and before I knew it I was planning a major renovation."

"I didn't know you were so handy." I leaned against the door frame and watched as she got back to work on the chair rail, removing it with her bare hands gently, unfazed by splinters or rusting nails.

"I used to help my father around the farm. There was always something that needed fixing and he would let me watch or sit on the ladder. I used to think he just put up with me but… he was a man of few words and fewer expressions. I really never knew how much he cared." She eased the old décor off the walls carefully. It really was good practice for her, I reasoned.

"Later though," she went on, "when Charles came back from the war he started sending me letters, not letters exactly because he never wrote, but money, just spare change really. I think it was his drinking money, what my mother would give him to go down to the local bar. Instead he sent it all to me."

"Your mother wouldn't have approved of that?" I asked. I could guess why.

"She could never forgive me for wanting to leave Charles."

I couldn't help but frown. Esme didn't turn back to me though, just brushed over the painful topic.

"It was because of my father that I could leave when I did. That little bit of money got me out of Columbus. Is there anything specific you would like?" She spun around to look at me suddenly. The settled dust made her hair just one shade lighter and a few of the warm honey colored curls had come out of their pins at the nape of her neck to bounce around her face. Exertion made her eyes bright. Muddied slightly from the brilliant red they had been, I could almost have tricked myself that her human color had returned.

"What?" I asked dumbly, dazed from looking at her. I could swear I heard Edward chuckling softly downstairs.

"In the room," Esme said with confusion puckering her pale brow, "is there anything you'd like? Colors or features? I was thinking of building shelves in here, you have so many books!"

"T-that would be nice," I said with a nod. "I'm sure whatever you pick out will be fine."

"I at least have to get you some curtains, there aren't any decent ones in the entire house!"

No, I didn't care about the mess or the dust. I don't think I'd have minded if she wanted to tear the whole house down and rebuild it! Esme looked happy, so I was happy. It was surprisingly simple and yet utterly fitting. Bit by bit I could feel my life altering around her, no longer just my own now. Part of my life was now tied up in hers. It was different from the obligations and love I felt for Edward. He had always been and would always be his own person. With Esme I yearned to be closer than that. I wanted to share everything with her. The world that had at so many times seemed overwhelming and insurmountable was a worthy adversary if I could just face it with her.

"Green I think," she said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "A darker rich green. It will go well with the existing wood and some lighter colored curtains. Would that be ok?"

"Sounds perfect."

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Esme

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Life was getting slowly easier. It helped to have something to do, a goal and a plan. I no longer spent the daylight hours in idle wanderings, reading or listening to Edward play. And the house was slowly starting to look comforting. The old drab building I had first awoken in was hardly recognizable anymore. The front room looked airy and bright now with the coat of fresh white paint and the furniture was all dusted and fixed as best as I could manage. I had plans to reupholster the sofa and chairs once I could manage a needle. Upstairs was moving slowly. Carlisle's study was almost finished and my own room was in the first stages of getting new wallpaper. Edward had declined to let me into his own room yet but he seemed interested in the curtains I was making for the front windows. They would shield him from the street on sunny mornings.

The curtains themselves were the most trouble. I was making progress, but it was slow progress. Everything else I could do with at least a touch of immortal speed, never needing to stop and rest except to hunt (which I still needed to do often). This required concentration as I fed the delicate needle in and out. I had to be careful not to stick myself and blunt it against my hard skin or pull too hard or too fast and rip the thread or fabric. It was far too easy to do something wrong in haste so I was slowed to a sub human crawl as I stitched the curtains with exaggerated care.

It was harder when I was anxious like now. The light was fading, not that that bothered my eyes, but it meant that Carlisle would be home soon. In fact he should have been home already but the drive was silent and I stitched on. Edward came downstairs a while later and broke my concentration, leading to a slight pull in the thread and a small tear in the fabric. I frowned.

"Sorry, Esme." He apologized and slid onto the piano stool. "I haven't heard Carlisle come home yet."

"No, he's late," I said, glaring at the stitches as I worked with painstaking slowness. Edward began to play soft calming songs and I tried to focus the part of my mind that was waiting for Carlisle on the music instead. I failed utterly.

Darkness settled over the little clearing around the house. Edward got up to turn on the unnecessary lights. The dark house as seen from the road was suspicious so we kept lights for at least part of the night. I set aside my slow going work. I no longer had enough space in my mind to control my worry, my cautious movements, and my growing thirst. I still struggled with that aspect of my new life. It seemed I was three times as thirsty as Carlisle and Edward and consumed so much more than the two of them. Edward told me this would pass when he caught it bothering me. He stood at the front window now and I could see his frown in the reflective glass.

"Let's go hunt while we wait. Carlisle will catch up," Edward said. No doubt he could hear my thoughts straying in that direction. But I couldn't get up from where I was.

"I think I'll stay here and wait for him, you go," I offered with a small smile. I know I'm just worrying needlessly but I would like to wait, I thought to him. I expected he would argue or remain with me given the stubborn face he was making but then it changed. He cocked his head to the side, listening to something I couldn't hear which made him gave a heavy sigh.

"Alright. Maybe you'll know what to say to him after a day like this," He said and turned away from the window. "I never do," he grumbled on his way out the back door just as the sounds of Carlisle's car coming up the road met my sensitive ears.

Edward was long gone by the time Carlisle pulled into the drive. His feet were slow and heavy across the porch and when he opened the door his face looked older than I had ever seen it. If I didn't know it was impossible I would have said he looked tired.

"Welcome home," I forced my usual smile. It wasn't quite as warm as it should have been but I did feel a rush of relief seeing him again. I fought the urge to cross the room and embrace him. Perhaps that would help… perhaps that would make it worse. Charles never liked to have me around after a bad day. He preferred to induce forgetfulness with drink. What did vampires do? I wondered. Would even human blood help ease the pain of perfectly preserved immortal memories?

Carlisle just stood in the doorway for a long moment with his bag in hand staring at me. Then his shoulders fell and the breath rushed out of his lungs. He hung his head wearily. In the same second I had decided to move I was by his side and gently taking the bag from his hand. I moved around behind him and gently, very gently helped pull the coat off his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Esme," Carlisle said very low. "I don't think I'm much company right now."

I turned away to hang his coat in the closet so he wouldn't see my face.

"I-I can go. Edward is waiting to hunt outside."

"That might be best," he said slowly. I wondered if I was imagining the reluctance I heard in his voice. "You must be thirsty," he said, half to himself.

"It's manageable," I told him. I moved into the living room to tidy up my work. The yards and yards of curtain fabric were spread across the sofa and low table.

"You've been sewing?" He asked in shock.

"Slowly," I grumbled. "I'm even worse than I used to be. I hate to think what my mother would say if she saw this work." I chuckled humorlessly. The motion of Carlisle head, shaking back and forth slowly drew my eye. There was a reverent expression in his eyes.

"How could… That you have even this much control, Esme it's an accomplishment! Don't let anyone tell you different, real or imaginary," He sat on the cleared sofa looking limp. "Adjusting to this life isn't easy and you've thrown yourself into it so willingly I—I'm in total wonder." I sat on the other side of the couch, leaving space between us.

"I have good teachers. Edward has been a great help. He keeps me from losing my temper at inanimate object," I said with a small smile. "Just this morning I was about ready to burn the whole heap of cloth! He just started playing that song, Flamin' Mamie." Even through his despondent exhaustion Carlisle groaned. That had been one of Edward's favorites for quite a while. According to Edward they bought the house with the piano on the one condition Carlisle would not have to hear that particular song for at least two decades. "It really does make you feel like dancing."

"Or pulling teeth," he muttered and I chuckled. The short moment of mirth dissipated quickly though as he let out a heavy sigh. We sat in silence for a while as he drifted into thought or memories and I watched his beautiful face. I hated to see it so troubled. It reminded me of the expression he'd worn the last time I saw him in Columbus.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I promise I will try to put these unhappy things behind me. I'm late already, no need to waste more time."

"No, you don't have to do that," I reached out but my hand hovered an inch above his, not actually touching him. I didn't know how he would react to that. Part of me knew Carlisle would never harm me but another part, the one that had learned to survive in Charles Evenson's house held me back. I warred with myself for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, daring myself to meet his eyes. They were wide with surprise.

"I—I don't know," he admitted then gave a dry laugh. "Usually Edward can see what I'm thinking without words being necessary. I've never had anyone to… talk to." I smiled.

"I can listen and try to understand."

"I—I don't know if you'll want to." He ran a hand through his hair that was already messier than usual as if he had done that more than once recently.

"Was it a bad day?" I asked. He let out a long breath and pressed his eyes tightly shut. He nodded without opening them.

"A tour bus crashed outside of town. Most of the less injured went to Duluth but the critically injured came straight to Ashland. It was closer." He shook his head and fell silent for a moment. "A woman, I don't even know her name, was brought in with a concussion, broken ribs, collapsed lung, broken leg, going into shock…. It was too late. I knew as soon as she came in that… it was just too late. She was awake up until the end. She kept looking around for something or… or someone… She just looked so lonely."

I knew what Edward meant then; there was nothing to say. My hand didn't hesitate this time when I reached for his. He startled a little at the contact and I jumped but he grabbed my hand, holding it, not painfully but firmly. We sat like that for a long time, hand in hand.

"It's somehow worse than before," He said softly. "When I was lonely I didn't quite understand the losses that were happening all around me. I mourned for them—the dead and their lost potential—but I couldn't really empathize with the survivors, those that were left behind. I didn't understand what they were going through. Now I have so much more to lose and I see the same fear in their eyes." He finally sat up, looking more like himself. "Edward believes we are soulless, immortals that is, but I can't believe that. Not when I can recognize all my own emotions in humanity, not when I know that I feel as they feel."

"I don't know if it helps but," I hesitated. "Something I heard my father say once comes to mind: 'It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.'"

"Henry David Thoreau," Carlisle said. "Yes I've read that before. Hmm." He seemed to fall deep in thought but much of the weariness had fallen from his face. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," he said, snapping out of thought, "I think I needed this."

"Any time," I said smiling. He smiled back, finally looking like the man that I knew who was so much more angel than human. His smile fell though as he peered at my eyes.

"You are very thirsty though, aren't you? Come on," He jumped up and pulled me with him by the hand. "I've kept you from your dinner long enough."

"Will you be alright?" I asked him and we paused at the back door. He looked back at me, out hands still clasped together and sending tingling sensations up my arm.

"Yes, I think I will be," he nodded. "No mater what I feel for the mourning families right now I wouldn't give up your company or Edward's, go back to loneliness, just to be distanced from their pain again."

I smiled and nodded. Together we left the house and followed Edward's scent into the woods. He gave me a strange look when we appeared, both with a renewed air of excitement for our nightly excursion.

"What did you say to him?" Edward asked me while we waited for Carlisle to return from hunting down his own meal. I just shook my head and thought about Flamin' Mamie playing over and over. Edward groaned.

"Ok, ok," he said, "I get it. 'Two can play at this game.' Well whatever you did, thanks. I knew I would like having you around." His words lit something like a fire in my chest and if I could still cry I think I might have. How long had it been since I felt wanted anywhere? In Ashland where I knew no one? In my cousin's house under her constant judgmental eye? In Charles's home? Even in my childhood home my mother was impatient for me to marry and leave. She practically shoved me out of the house on my wedding day. Oh, Edward, I thought to him, glad he knew my mind because I didn't trust my voice. Instead I did the only thing I could think to do. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him (gently because I was still stronger than he was).

"What did I miss?" Carlisle asked as he came back.

"Nothing much," Edward said. "I think she might finally be starting to believe us when we tell her she's welcome here."

How could I? It all seemed too good to be true, I thought to him. I didn't know where I could possibly fit in to your lives.

"You fit in just fine," Edward told me. "Now I heard Canada was having a few bear problems. Do we have time for a little swim?"

"The hospital gave me the day off tomorrow," Carlisle shrugged. Edward turned to me with a mischievous look.

"Race you to the shore?" He asked.

Oh no, I thought but immediately started off. He followed, just seconds behind me, yelling, "no fair! You cheat." I just laughed. I was finally, slowly getting to the point where I could enjoy my new life. Maybe even look forward to it.

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Carlisle

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Esme's grip on my arm was firm and very nearly painful but I bore it silently as we walked through the trees. The light breeze was blowing to us across the lake bringing the scents of the vacationers and visiting families down to us. Even so close I knew it would be tearing up her throat horribly. Still she managed to remain composed as we made our walk. A gust brought a fresh wave of the scent to us and she stiffened, hands gripping me tighter. I inhaled sharply at the sudden ache of pressure on my forearm. I should say mostly composed, but it was progress.

"Sorry," she whispered and lightened her grip.

"It's alright. You're doing very well."

"You keep saying that but I'm no where near them and it's all I can do not to…"

"It's easier if you don't think about it."

"That's impossible," she hissed back at me. Thirst made her more irritable I noticed but even then she was a hundred times more polite than Edward. Of course Edward had to listen to me constantly appraising him and questioning his self-control in my own head.

"Tell me about the renovations."

"That's what you want to talk about? Not how dangerous this is, me being…"

"Edward has finally let you into his room."

"Well I've finished almost everything else," She huffed. "At least until the cabinets for the kitchen come in it gives me something to do. I just wish it was more useful!"

"It's an investment," I said. "We bought the house very cheaply and thanks to you we'll make money when we decide to leave."

"You mean when we have to leave."

"That is always a possibility."

"I don't like it. I don't want to be the reason we have to leave Ashland. I—I like it here."

"And you'll like the next place we go. You can even help pick it out. I'm sure you already have a better eye for houses than either Edward or I."

"You would let me?" She asked, momentarily distracted from her thirst judging from the way her grip on my arm relaxed.

"Of course. You would be free to do what you liked to whatever home we buy just as you are here."

"We? You're the only one who makes money. You should decide what's done with it."

"I've had many years to save it up and very little to do with it to be honest," I said thinking of all the various accounts that I had scattered in the wake of my travels. "Besides, Edward is far from poor."

"He is?"

"His father was a well respected lawyer in Chicago. He left Edward both his own savings and his wife's inheritance."

"Oh," She said softly and looked down.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's just… I feel… poor," she admitted with shame in her voice, still looking at the ground. I stopped abruptly and she turned to look at me.

"Esme," I took her hands from my arm and held them in my own, "when I brought you into this…" I searched for a word: coven, household, family… nothing felt right without overstepping some boundary."When I brought you into our lives I was and still am willing to share everything I have with you. I am responsible for you." And not just because I care for you though that is reason enough, I thought to myself.

"Carlisle, you always seemed to think you were responsible for me, even when I was human," she said, looking down again, "but there's no reason you should have to bear all of my burdens, certainly not the financial ones."

"Actually, as your creator, I do," I said. "There are… laws, I guess you could call them, in our world. You may be an adult in human years but to our kind you are very young. I am responsible for you at least until you can be trusted keep our secret."

"But that doesn't..." another gust of wind cut her off and instinctively she breathed in. Esme was half turned toward the scent before I got my arms around her shoulders.

"Esme! Stop. Remember who you are. Remember why you're here. Hold your breath. Wait. This will pass." She struggled in short bursts against my arms, her newborn strength threatening to overpower me just before she got control and stilled again in my arms. I felt her breathing had stopped and just waited patiently. "This will pass," I repeated to her and she just nodded.

"Do you need to leave?" I asked. She was still for a long moment before nodding again resignedly. She didn't resist as I pulled her away from the shore and further into the woods but she didn't help me either until we were quite a ways away. She ran on her own the last ways up wind until the beach was behind us.

She took deep breaths of clean air, standing on the edge of the tree line in the clearing we had designated our safe mark.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, shaking slightly.

"No, Esme," I shook my head. "I don't know how many times I will have to say it before you believe me, you're doing very well."

"Maybe when I can go into town and actually see the people that I'm so bent on killing I will consider believing you," she muttered and returned to her deep cleansings breaths.

"It will get better."

"Edward says you sound like a broken record."

"I know," I said laughing. "It is the truth though. Shall we hunt?"

"Deer?"

"That or Elk, I'm sure we could find either." I watched her face scrunch up in distaste at my suggestion. I had to admit she was right. Herbivores were not very appetizing after our walk in the aroma of the human banquet on the beach. "Afterward there is a present waiting for you at home," I said, trying again to distract her.

"What? Carlisle, you didn't have to." I knew she was worrying about the money again, never wanting to be a burden to us. I longed for her to realize 'us' included her and she could never be a burden when she made our lives so full.

"I didn't have to, but Edward thought you would appreciate it," I said self-consciously. I didn't want to let on how anxious I was to see her reaction. In truth Edward hadn't even been aware of the gift until I asked him to supervise it's arrival. Bringing Edward in on the guilt though sweetened Esme's mood. She seemed to love him as much as I did and would do just about anything to please him.

"Alright, I will try to be gracious for him but he will hear my thoughts anyway."

And probably agree with them, I thought to myself. He had raised an eyebrow at the cost of the gift.

"Thank you," I said with a sigh, "now I smell deer heading south, shall I lead the way?"

"You would have to be faster if you wanted to that," she replied and took off into the woods. I followed with an irresistible grin on my face.

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Esme

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I was in a much better mood when we got home, my thirst reduced by the hunting and Carlisle at my side. Despite the torturous thirst I enjoyed my evening walks on the beach. Near the beach would be more accurate. I knew I wasn't ready to be so close to any human yet. Carlisle at least felt I was ready to walk with him there, downwind of the summer vacation crowds, without Edward hovering constantly behind me. I had to admit that I enjoyed walking with him in private. He would tell me stories of his long life, slowly working backwards from recent history to his travels in Europe. I had mentioned once that I would have liked to travel and since then he'd paid particular attention to his descriptions of the far off places.

"In a few years we could visit. I haven't taken much time off of work for… a long time. Edward would enjoy that as well."

The possibility was alluring, even if my control was years away from being ready for that. I realized that Edward was so far ahead of me that he and Carlisle could go anytime they wished. It hurt to be the only thing holding them back.

Carlisle was also much more patient with me on those walks than Edward. I think my irritable mood was more contagious when I couldn't bite my tongue to restrain my rude remarks. Edward heard them all. I was always sorry afterward and he accepted that but we were both sensitive personalities under our hard skin and in the moment the words hurt.

Edward was waiting on the back steps for us when we came out of the trees. There was an excited air about him that made me apprehensive. I wondered what kind of present he and Carlisle had bought me. I hope it's not expensive, I thought.

"How did it go tonight?" Edward asked.

"Good," Carlisle said, "She didn't try to bite me."

"I nearly did."

"But you didn't," he pointed out and turned to Edward. I recognized the look of questioning that usually accompanied a silent question. Edward nodded his silent response and smiled wider. Then he laughed and shook his head.

"Oh no," Edward chuckled, "I am not taking any of the credit. This was all your idea." He turned and went into the house. I glanced at Carlisle before I followed. Behind me I heard him sigh. What on earth could he have gotten me? I wondered. What do I need? I don't eat so it's not food. I tear half of my clothing in thoughtlessness so it can't be clothing. I have more than enough books to read and they've given me everything I need to fix up the house without hesitation.

I didn't need to look very far for my present though, it was sitting in the living room next to the front window. Edward's piano had been moved over to accommodate it. The little table had sturdy iron legs and the machine itself rose up in a slender enameled black case. A strange circular attachment sat off the back and a cord snaked across the floor to one of the few electric outlets. Across the vertical arm "Singer's" was written in gold.

"It's a Singer's Model 99, electric powered too," Edward told me.

"You bought me a sewing machine? You… this… it's too much!" I stammered. "This… this is… it must have cost you a years wages!"

"Not even," Carlisle said with a shrug. "Your work will go a lot faster now. No need to frustrate yourself with the slow way."

I looked helplessly between their expectant faces. Carlisle was watching me, waiting for a reaction other than shock. Edward was looking at me sidelong, half watching, half listening. I thought of the curtains for my room that I had half finished upstairs, the cushions I had planned for the sofa and table runner for the dinning room. I realized suddenly I could make new dresses for myself. I could mend Edward's and Carlisle's things without ruining them and even make nicer new ones. My lip started to tremble and I quickly covered my mouth with my free hand. I looked at Carlisle with gratitude but I couldn't force words out of my suddenly tight throat.

Edward laughed. "She loves it, she just can't speak." He said for me and I nodded helplessly.

Carlisle finally smiled. "Good," he said and nodded. "I hoped you would."

"It's perfect," I managed to say. "I don't know what I can say. Thank you, thank you… I really hope I don't break it." I laughed at how breakable everything was to me now.

"I know you won't," he said. "Your control is very good."

"Thank you." I said again. "Are you sure you had nothing to do with this?" I looked over at Edward who was shaking his head.

"I am completely innocent in all of this."

Have I ever had a gift to rival this? I wondered. My father's letters full of pocket change sprang to mind followed by the little handkerchief of Carlisle's I had… I immediately cut that thought off and focused on the projects I was already lining up for myself. I glanced at Edward but he seemed to be having another silent conversation with Carlisle and missed it.

No, I thought, sitting down at the sewing machine, this is probably the most thoughtful gift I've ever gotten. I looked at Carlisle and Edward, who were deep in their half quiet conversation. He didn't feel so far away anymore. There was still a gap between us. I knew I could never be so kind and selfless as he was but with Charles behind me I felt like a thick wall between us had been torn down. Maybe he could love me, I thought, running a hand over the table top of my sewing machine. I could see that future now that I considered it, my pale hand on his arm just as it had been as we walked near the beach but not clinging desperately, just holding for the comfort of physical connection. Is there a future like that for us? I wondered. Maybe.

Edward looked at me sidelong again. This time he had heard my thoughts and I blushed fiercely even though no one could see it. I was glad for that.