Chapter 14 – Love is love
I watch Rosalie step out of the attic dormer window and leap across the yard, vanishing into the forest in search of game. I wish I was going with her, but not being sure if there are humans or dogs still searching Rosalie thought it best if I stay home. Feeling slightly uncertain about what I'll find I head downstairs. Carlisle and Esme are gone, but Edward is playing the piano and I drop down onto the bench beside him, dancing my fingers along the keys to add a discordant noise to his symphony. He swats my hand away without even a break in the melody and continues to play.
"Can I help you?"
I press two more keys and then snatch my hands back, grinning at him. "Hey, I'm the one helping you. Just adding to your song, making improvements…"
Edward snorts, stopping his playing and making some notations on the sheet music on the rack. "I'll be sure to thank you in my acceptance speech when I win an academy award for composing."
"Is that what you're going to do?" I ask him curiously. "Compose music as a career?"
"What, when I grow up?" Edward says. "It's very unlikely. I'm never going to grow up, and you know that our pretence at human life relies on us remaining inconspicuous. It's all right for Carlisle to work as a doctor – it changes lives sometimes, but he's only doing what thousands of human doctors do every day. Composing music, playing at the virtuoso level my vampire skills make easy, well it's a little more niche, and potentially memorable. Also, it doesn't feel very fair in some ways. I was a skilled musician as a human, but it was always something of a struggle to get the music I heard in my mind out into the world via my own hands – vampirism changed that."
I frown. "It seems a pity when you're so good. And I never really thought about not growing up – are you really just going to go to high school forever?"
"I'll probably do college a few times too," Edward smiles at me. "Right now, education is honestly what appeals to me. Endless time can feel oppressive, but there are so many things to study and master that it can also feel like a gift. Music, medicine, mathematics, history, science…I don't have to choose, because there's always going to be time."
"Maybe," I say doubtfully. I can see his point and there's lots of things I'd like to learn, but I don't see quite as much appeal as he does in poring over books and writing essays.
"Wait and see how you feel after you've tried it," Edward says. "It will be different to what you were used to in a country schoolhouse, and you're different too. Perhaps you'll enjoy it."
"It's probably still a while away, considering that I'm still buzzing after my latest disaster." I plink out a one finger tune, and say a little hesitantly, "I feel bad about him, especially about his folks still out there looking for him. But human blood…it really hits differently. I mean, it's so good and it leaves you feeling satisfied in a way that the animal blood never does. Rosalie even had to go out hunting now because she said that she can smell it on me and it makes her own thirst a little hard to take. And you know me, I'm hunting pretty much every day but I'm fine to stay home now."
Edward grimaces. "Yes, I know. It's part of what makes abstinence so difficult – it's not just the taste, but that it's infinitely more satiating. Animal blood will never give us what human blood does."
"You're telling me!" I say with feeling, adding, "Wait, ARE you telling me? I thought you were one of the pure?"
"Not quite," Edward says. "In fact, in terms of sheer numbers, I'm very much not."
"What?! Tell me!"
"It was about ten years after I'd been turned. Adolescent rebellion perhaps?" Edward shrugs. "I'd always followed Carlisle's example to that point, but for some reason it began to feel more and more oppressive, and eventually I became determined to leave and try the alternative. So I did. For several years I lived the traditional vampire lifestyle…the number of lives I took is high."
I gape at him in amazement. Edward, with his starched collars and polished shoes, his meticulous neatness and exquisite piano playing…killing and drinking blood indiscriminately? Is he having me on?
"I didn't choose my victims indiscriminately," Edward says. "My telepathy at least gave me an edge in that respect, and allowed me to be sure that I wasn't ending the life of an innocent. I was able to target the immoral and the evil – people who hurt and abused and killed."
Like the men who hurt Rosalie. The thought flashes involuntarily through my head.
"Yes. Like them. This was before I'd ever heard of Rosalie Hale, but her fiancé was exactly the sort of person I would have taken. And it would have stopped him, so that no one else would ever suffer at his hands." Edward smiles bleakly. "It's easy to justify, when you can hear their thoughts and know the truth of who they really are, and I know I saved people through my actions."
"Why did you stop doing it?"
"I was fuelled by righteous anger in the beginning. And then the blood itself…you know what it's like! The wonder and gratification of it seduces you. But I was constantly listening to loathsome thoughts and looking for the darkness. I would spend days or even weeks trailing someone, listening to every single vile thought, because I had to be certain that it was more than just fantasising. I didn't want to take a life based on a fleeting thought or an excess of emotion. But all that evil…it felt like it wormed its way into my soul. I couldn't escape it. The weight of all that death, of all that horror – it became too much in the end. I might have been saving people, but I knew I'd lose myself if I didn't stop. I had to come home. Carlisle and Esme welcomed me back with open arms, with much more love and forgiveness than I probably deserved, and I recommitted to living this life."
"Carlisle and Esme seem pretty forgiving of most things," I say. "Not that I think you really needed forgiveness! You were doing what you thought was right."
"You don't need forgiveness either," Edward says to me. "Carlisle and Esme aren't going to judge you."
I laugh a little guiltily. "Am I that obvious?"
"Yes." Edward rolls his eyes. "Really, I'm the one most likely to judge you when I have to hear both of your thoughts all the time!"
"Rosalie said you wouldn't like it. Something…I didn't exactly understand her, but I got the gist of it."
"Oh yes, sapphic erotica. I caught that," Edward grins at me. "Sapphic – women who love women. The word comes from Sappho, an ancient Greek poet from the seventh century BC, who wrote poetry about her love and desire for women. You might like it…I can try and find a translation, or I'll do one for you."
I'm not sure reading ancient Greek poetry sounds like that much fun, no matter what it might say about women, but I'm captivated by this proof that there have always been women like me.
"It's more common than you think, and I don't care about you and Rosalie both being women. Believe me, the things you were thinking about her up in that attic would not be any more palatable to me if you were a man!" Edward eyes me ruefully. "I'll just have to get better at tuning you out. I'm quite adept at avoiding Rosalie's inner monologue by now, but your thoughts ring out like you're using a megaphone."
I can't help laughing. "I didn't know you heard thoughts differently! And I'll do what I can to keep it all to myself, but let's be real. I can't look at her without…"
"I know, I know!" Edward holds up a hand. "No need to spell it out!"
I get to my feet. "Well, I guess I'll go out and work on my hide and wait for her to come back. Think all my objectionable thoughts on the other side of the yard to you…" Cuffing him on the back of the head I leave him to his piano and go to the barn.
I've been up in the attic with Rosalie for long enough that the hide is well and truly soaked in the brain mixture. Sitting at the side of the barn, leaning back against the sun warmed timbers, I lift the hide out of the stinking mess and go to work on it, stretching and pulling and working it as it dries to make it soft and supple. I remember this being exhausting work as a human, but my unflagging vampire strength makes it actually feel quite relaxing. The hardest thing once again is tempering my strength so I don't shred the skin like paper.
It hasn't been too long before I see a flash of movement and smell the irresistible scent of her and Rosalie appears in front of me.
"That was quick," I say.
"I didn't go far. I wanted to come home…to you." Rosalie eyes the hide as I flex it between my hands. "Although perhaps I might not have been so hasty if I'd known you were playing with that stinking thing."
"I'm not playing, I'm breaking it. I've got to work this so that it dries soft - you could help me with it," I offer.
I'm not actually expecting her to say yes, but much to my surprise she just hauls over the chopping block and sits down beside me. "What do I have to do?"
"You really want to help?"
Rosalie shrugs. "Why not? You've had to learn all kinds of new things since you've been here, maybe I should too." She raises an eyebrow. "Admittedly this is perhaps going to be slightly less enjoyable than some of the other new things you've introduced me to."
I choke on my laughter. "Yeah, breaking a hide isn't quite kissing you! But it's got to be done, and one doesn't mean the other can't happen." Leaning over I catch her lips in mine, a rumble of desire rising as this brief touch sets off a shower of sparks within me. Reluctantly I pull away. "All right then, city girl, let's get you working."
Between us Rosalie and I stretch and roll and shake the hide out, so that as it dries the whitening buckskin stays soft and pliable. It reminds me of home, and I tell Rosalie about tanning hides with my Poppa. "You've seen the knife he made for me, but he made all kinds of things. Bags and belts and moccasin slippers. Even made me a little pair of buckskin pants when I was a wee girl. Mama said it made me look like a wild thing, but she had to admit they wore well. Poppa spent a lot of time living wild himself before he settled down, and no one could touch him for tracking and hunting and knowing about the mountains. Kind of wonder sometimes what he'd think about me now…might not like the vampire bit, but he'd probably be pretty impressed with my new hunting skills. And he'd love how easy it is working this hide with vampire strength, because he found it pretty hard going by the end with the arthritis in his hands." I consider the hide as we stretch it taut and then relax it. "This is a good one, he'd be pleased with me."
Eventually I take the dried, flexible hide and roll it up. "I've got to smoke it to keep it like this, but we can leave it for now. As long as it doesn't get wet it'll be fine. Thanks for your help."
"No problem. It's quite interesting to think about the science behind it – and now you can make me a pair of pants."
I laugh, but the thought of Rosalie's long legs in buckskin makes my stomach flip.
"You can go ahead in the bathroom," she says.
"I don't mind waiting," I begin, but then realise that while Rosalie could probably do with washing her hands I've slopped brain mixture all down the front of me and smell like a mausoleum. "All right, I'll be quick."
I wash quickly and thoroughly, then leave the bathroom to Rosalie. Edward has gone out, probably hunting, and Esme and Carlisle still haven't returned, so without anyone to talk to I pick up my whittling and go and sit on the porch. The chess set is coming along nicely, so I sharpen my blade and get to work. My thoughts drift back to Rosalie, and I find myself absently carving a rose rather than the rook I had intended.
The noise of the car bumping down the driveway makes me look up, and I watch as Esme parks in the barn. She emerges carrying her basket and comes and sits down beside me with a sigh.
"I've just been meeting with the hospital charitable auxiliary. It's been decided to work on establishing a soup kitchen – it's sorely needed, unfortunately." Esme frowns. "I wish we could do more. I wanted to increase our monetary contribution, but given that the hospital pays Carlisle's salary it does raise some questions when he apparently has thousands of dollars at his disposal to donate to their charitable arm! However the soup kitchen does open up the possibility of providing aid more directly."
"If we butcher even a fraction of what we kill, that would probably help," I say. "It's a pity we can't raise animals – milk and eggs would go a long way."
"I thought the same thing about the deer; taking in an occasional carcass wouldn't be suspicious and you know how to do the butchering. I've also been considering our land though. We've allowed it to stay forested for our own ends, but perhaps we could clear and cultivate part of it…"
"Grow some crops?" I think about the acres of forest surrounding us. "If we cleared the southern slope between the house yard and the road you could plants beans and corn pretty early, they'd grow fine here and be just what you need. I could do it – just might have to work at night so that no one sees me ripping up trees with my bare hands or dragging a plough through the sod like a knife through butter."
"That would be wonderful; I knew I could count on you," Esme says.
"Well, I've had plenty of experience in the garden, and vampire strength's going to make it a whole lot easier," I say. "We never had it so bad that we needed the soup kitchen, but I know what it's like to go to bed without quite enough to eat. I don't know where we'd have been without all the fruits and vegetables we were able to grow."
"I'd love to plant an orchard," Esme says a little wistfully. "But it's such a long-term project; we'd never be able to stay in one place long enough to see it grow and enjoy it."
"Might be worth doing anyway, if we're turning half the property into farmland." I frown. "How often do you move house anyway?" Edward and Rosalie have both talked about the transitory nature of our existence, but I've never really thought about it in terms of an actual calendar.
"It depends. If things go badly, such as someone seeing something out of the ordinary from any of us, or if we've caused too many unexplained disappearances or unusual deaths, we'll move on fairly quickly. If all goes well, we think probably six years is about as long as we can stretch it before people start noticing that we don't change or age. We've experimented with things like wearing glasses and dressing more conservatively, but there's only so much you can do."
"It's kind of weird, when you think about it," I say slowly. "We've all got forever to live, but at the same time our lives are so temporary. We can't build something that endures and just keep it…we're going to move on and have to do it all over again, and again, and again. There's no lasting legacy, is there?"
"Not for us, not in the way you mean," Esme says. "I renovate and restore the houses we move into, and then I have to let them go when we move on – even if we keep them and lease them out, I know we can't return for so long it will all be different. Carlisle builds his reputation at every hospital he works at, and then has to start back at the beginning when he takes up a different job. Edward keeps his high school and college diplomas, but he can't build a life on his achievements and he will keep on repeating the same educational experiences. But I like to think that what we do does makes a difference. Carlisle saves lives, and the ripple effects of that must be enormous. We'll grow a crop of beans and corn and feed the hungry, and the land you cultivate here may well feed a generation once we've moved on and someone else takes it up." She laughs. "And now that I've said all that, I feel honour bound to plant an orchard here too! We may not see the fruits, but someone else will and that's a good thing."
"Sounds good to me. We can fence off a field behind the barn to keep the wildlife out, and plant some apple trees by the end of winter. Whoever is here after we leave will appreciate it."
Esme smiles reminiscently. "When I was a girl my favourite place to be was sitting in an apple tree in our orchard and reading. It's one of the clearest and happiest memories I have of my human life." She laughs. "I suppose the apple orchard was also responsible for me meeting Carlisle for the first time. I broke my leg falling from a tree, and he was the doctor who treated me at the hospital."
"When you were human? Is that when he changed you?"
"Oh no, that came much later. I was only sixteen when I broke my leg and I thought he was wonderful, but Carlisle behaved impeccably. He set my leg and we spent time talking together while I was in hospital, but once I was healed I returned home and didn't see him again. He always stayed in the back of my mind though, just this ideal of how a man could be…and then ten years later I woke up after the transformation and saw his beautiful face."
"I'm learning all about the history today," I say. "Edward's murder rebellion, and now here's you keeping a flame burning for Dr Carlisle for years. Too bad I've got nothing so interesting, just a regular kind of growing up and then a stupid run in with a bear that I should have known well enough to avoid!" I grin and offer her the carved wooden rose.
"Oh Eleanor, that's beautifully done." Esme admires it. "I ought to paint it, it's so realistic. It would make a lovely brooch."
"Well it's not a part of the chess set, so do whatever you like with it." I start sorting through my raw pieces of timber, looking for the right one.
"Well, since you gave me a flower…" Esme reaches into her basket and brings out a bunch of long-stemmed red roses tied with satin ribbons.
"Uh…thank you?" The roses are beautiful, but considering the last three gifts Esme has brought me from town have been a new pair of overalls, a whetstone for sharpening my knives, and six pairs of plain white underpants, I'm not exactly sure why she's gone with something as feminine and extravagant as this bouquet. I don't even have a dressing table to put them on like Rosalie does.
I guess it shows in my face, because Esme laughs and squeezes my arm. "You're welcome to keep them, but I really bought them because I thought you might like to give them to Rosalie. She loves flowers, and it felt like the kind of romantic gesture you'd make if you were able to go into town yourself. Or have I got ahead of myself?" She frowns worriedly. "I know you haven't said anything yet, but we heard you upstairs…and of course it didn't come out of the blue! I've seen the way you look at her, and from the moment Rosalie brought you home it was clear that there was something going on. But if you'd rather I just put the roses back in my basket and pretend I never said anything I can do that too!"
I breathe in the sweet scent of the roses and laugh. "Not at all. They're beautiful, and exactly what I would have picked out for her." I smile at her bashfully. "So you're all right with it? With Rosalie and I…?"
"Oh my dear girl, if you're happy and Rosalie's happy, I am absolutely thrilled with it and I know Carlisle feels the same." Esme says emphatically. "Love is love after all."
"I do love her," I say, hugging the flowers to myself. "I'm going to do whatever I can to make her happy. And I'm glad that you're okay with it, because I wouldn't want to make you or Carlisle upset or uncomfortable but I don't think I can pretend away how I feel anymore."
"You don't have to pretend anything here at home with the family," Esme says. "As if it matters, given the whole vampire situation! But at the same time, even if we were human…I think the world needs more love, in whatever form it comes. If you and Rosalie love each other and make each other happy, and find strength and solace in being together, then that's what's important."
