Leta Carnall. Or Lettie, as her friends had called her when she was alive. Her name was unusual, though he supposed at the time it was rather ordinary. Her ordinary name and appearance didn't seem to extend beyond that, however. Her movements were loud and flowing, perhaps a dancer in her previous life, and whenever Edward's eyes were on her, she didn't seem able to stop moving. Rising up and down on her toes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and waving her hands as she talked. She was more than a little enthusiastic during their handshaking lesson, easily hiding the embarrassment she felt for getting 'shaking hands' wrong by the sheer focus in her gaze.
There was a time, she remarked, that some teenagers snuck into the old house to throw a party and she was able to observe as more than a few of them waved at each other in greeting, but never had a word to put to the action. Edward had to admit that he found the connection rather amusing, barely able to conceal the sharp laugh that escaped him as a heavy cough. If she noticed, her smile didn't wave for a moment.
And now, as they walked down the long driveway towards town, Edward couldn't help his eyes drifting over to her every few moments, tapping his finger against the box in his arms. Well, 'walked' might be a bit of an overstatement. It took Lettie more than a few minutes to make her way down the stairs, sticking as close to Edward as he allowed as they took it one step at a time. Her face was full of disbelief the whole time, marveling at the smallest things, as if the bottom three steps of the attic staircase were something as special as the Mona Lisa. Though he found it a bit odd, he did not remark, instead interested in the monologue that was going through her head. Strange as she was, as the way she acted, her brain was rather amusing to listen in on, similar to how a baby reacts to new environments but with all the proper vocabulary to realize its significance. As soon as she had her moment at the bottom of the steps, her face turned towards her feet as they wiggled against the old marble, she was off, more than excited to run through the house. She didn't spare her surroundings a glance as she practically pulled Edward along behind her, speeding past the rather torn-up rooms to make it to the front door, the box full of things in his hands rattling as he easily kept up.
The look on her face as they stepped out into the open air would be burned into his memory forever.
Now though, they were slowly, very slowly, making their way down the winding driveway to hit the main road. Edward contemplated just driving into town, it would be much faster and wouldn't draw as much attention, but the first roar of an engine in the distance startled Lettie enough that he decided against it. That's how he found himself at a pace so slow a human would be annoyed, stopping every few feet so Lettie could drop low and admire a crawling caterpillar or stand on her toes as if that would get her close enough to examine the buzzing power cords overhead. More than once he watched as she played with the soft shadows in front of them, the early morning light just bright enough to see. He watched as she jumped just far enough away from him to drag her toes through the early morning dew, before returning to his side on the gravel pathway. If her feet hurt from the texture, she didn't remark either out loud or internally. It took a few tries for him to realize that even if she was deeply enraptured in something, she would hastily return to his side if he got too far away. He learned to stop when she did, waiting patiently for her to return to his side before they started walking again.
Surprisingly, even with the slow way they walked, he found he didn't mind the trek as much as he thought he would.
It was easy to walk from point A to point B as a vampire. Slow fatigue meant they could travel over quadruple the distance a regular human could before they began to feel tired, and without the need to sleep, they could just continue forever until they got to their destination. And, well, there wasn't much 'walking' really to be done if any of them had the real desire to get somewhere. If he so desired, he could make it to the Historical Society and back in less than 5 minutes, especially without the downtown crowd that was practically nonexistent with the early hour. This version of travel, the stopping and going, was slower than he was ever used to, let alone to his human facade standard, but there was something almost soothing about it, setting a calm in his body that rivaled his usual habit of "brooding" (Rosalie's words) in one place for many hours at a time.
Maybe I do enjoy moving around, he mused to himself, rivaling the near acceptance he had earlier in his life that one day he would find himself the type of vampire to remain perfectly still for years at a time in between feedings. Carlisle knew plenty of those types, talked about them sparingly over the years. Seamus was an old friend, buried beneath the dirt somewhere in Ireland, wishing to spend eternity feeling the thrum of the earth around him, watching nature take its course and catching the lone hiker here and there to feed on. Though they had never officially met, Edward felt a sort of kinship towards the man, knowing about that sick sort of fascination for watching the world pass you by, becoming one with the very lifeblood of everything on this planet. He's spent more than a few days out in the wilderness alone, blending into the surroundings so that animals normally too afraid to come close to him would let him catch a fleeting glance at their everyday activities. No one else but him, nature, and whatever higher being cursed the world to have creatures like him.
The box in his hands swayed slightly from side to side with their slow pace.
Had he taken up Seamus's lifestyle, he mused, he never would have gotten to this point in his life. No doubt he would still love Carlisle and Esme with all the devotion in his undead heart, but would he ever have met Rosalie and Emmett, Alice and Jasper? Would Rosalie have died that night in the alley without Carlisle, who no doubt would have still been in Auburn hadn't it been for Edward's lapse in control? Would Emmett have died alone and frightened in the woods somewhere, leaving his family to slowly starve? Would Alice and Jasper have stayed in their nomadic ways? Would the Volturi have finally gotten their wish for them to join their ranks?
Would leaving his family all those years ago lead him to this moment, walking side by side with a creature so strange and otherworldly he felt like the normal one for the first time in many years?
Lettie wasn't very talkative as they walked, too engrossed in the colorful everything around her, which gave him plenty of time to think through the strange events of the last couple of hours, his eyes watching her face more than the road in front of them. Who would have guessed that a simple summer promise to his Mother would lead to this? A creature who can pass through bodies, who can only be seen by him, whose existence is beyond the laws of logic and reason, and yet moves and experiences life, as far as he can tell, as real as a human.
They finally reached the end of the drive, gravel turning to smooth asphalt, just as the morning eclipsed the sunrise. Lettie bounced up and down on the new material, catching Edward's eye with bright fascination, before joining his stride with a small skip of her own. In the distance, he could see the edge of town, a couple of old craftsman-style houses behind nature-ruled fences, buildings closer to the main road the closer they were to downtown. Just over the crest of the hill, he could see a flag hanging limply, the morning breeze not strong enough yet to catch the fabric.
Lettie stopped abruptly once more, grazing his hand lightly with her own as she tried to gain his attention. It had happened a few times on their walk, using the wave of her hand to gain his attention, as if he wasn't observing her with every part of his senses, but this was the first time her hand touched his since their handshake lesson. She was pointing at a bright red cardinal, a mother perched atop her eggs, who was staring right back at them, no doubt entering its fight or flight mode with the way its feathers began to ruffle. Lettie let out a small laugh at the movement, though she made sure to keep her distance, lest she scare it away from its home.
Edward wiggled his fingers against his grip on the box, tapping a short pattern as he remembered the feeling he got when they first touched. Though his first impression of her had been that of a ghost, stupid as he sounded now, it was hard to believe that after experiencing her touch. If anything, he half expected her hand to pass straight through his and they would simply have to mime shaking hands for the benefit of teaching her the new way to greet people. Her hands were unsurprisingly unlike anything he had ever felt (after he got over the shock of actually being able to feel her), nearly the same feeling as running your hand over soft velvet, but most surprisingly, they were a perfect temperature match to his own. For a moment, just a moment, Edward imagined it was what touching a human must have felt like if he didn't have to run his hands under hot water first, if he himself was a human again. He nearly jerked his hand out of hers in surprise. She was doing that a lot to him, he mused. Surprising him when he thought he had her figured out.
From simply their short lesson, Edward could tell she was a dream student. She was unafraid of asking questions, like how she didn't fully understand the need for the up and down motion, and didn't hesitate to say so out loud. When it took him a moment to formulate an explanation, she looked to the floor in embarrassment, apology tumbling from her mouth. He easily took note of the way her skin remained the same shade, despite the obvious signs it should have flushed bright red if she was human, before waving off her apology, explaining with only a few clarifications before they tried again. After the third try, she greeted him normally, finally revealing her name.
"You may call me Lettie, if you like," she added shyly.
"Would you like me to call you Lettie?" Edward responded, dropping their hands. He felt her hesitance from their dropped contact, a reminder of just how long she must have been up there without someone to talk to, let alone touch without passing right through them. Her hesitation physically did not stop the confusion from passing over his face at his question, matching the thoughts running through her head. "I mean, would that be your preferred name, or would you prefer if I called you Leta until we got to know each other better."
"It has been a very long time since someone has addressed me by my given name." She finally admitted, though not without thinking through the sentence multiple times in her head. "I apologize that I would not be able to tell you my preference, for I haven't had that option presented to me before. If you were a friend, I was known as Lettie. If you were my better, I was Leta." She paused only for a moment. "There was another Leta Carnall already when I debuted and she had already many an ally amongst the other families. I was…an outcast until I was welcomed as Lettie. 'Miss Lettie Carnall' I was called, with respect to the first Miss Leta Carnall. I was not allowed to be simply Miss Carnall by the other young women, as Miss Leta was far above my social circle." She stopped herself abruptly. You're frightening him, Lettie! Calm yourself. Edward had a vague memory of the social structure of his childhood, though most of his knowledge came from the odd history classes over the years.
"Well, Lettie, it's nice to meet you. I'm Edward Cullen." He gave her a soft smile, trying without saying to reassure her. She turned his smile with that same blinding one from before.
Now that cheek-pinching smile was cooled to a small upturn of her lips, twitching here and there as she took in the new stretch of road in front of them. Her whirlwind thoughts were an entertaining soundtrack with the current lack of music, bouncing here and there with the different distractions around her. It was easy to tell when something was familiar to her, like the old-fashioned bus stop that had her mind recalling more than a few images of the past, versus the broken-down pickup on the side of the road that had them stopping for more than a few minutes.
It was an old one, rust having claimed most of the truck bed and roof. It must have been sitting out there for a few seasons, if the half-sunken hubcaps were anything to go by, and a few different plants were starting to grow up and out of the engine. Lettie approached with hesitation at first, making a circle of the vehicle before stopping at the driver's door. She looked straight out of a photography student's portfolio, the juxtaposition of her regal gown versus the wild and destructive power of nature. He watched with amazement as she easily passed through the door of the truck instead of pulling it open (with the amount of rust and green growing from it, he doubted it wouldn't have taken more than a gentle tug to fall off its hinges), sitting in the middle of the long bench, barely noticing as her leg passed through the gear shift as she moved. She didn't speak a word as she inspected everything, from the shattered rearview mirror to the glove box that was missing its door, but her mind was making connections left and right to try and figure out what the purpose of each aspect was.
"Do you like it?" Edward winced a little as she jumped, her thoughts being ripped from the intricate path of connections to return to the present. Her smile was reassuring enough that he knew she wasn't upset at his interruption.
"Oh, very much so." She ran her hand over the dashboard, fingers too far away to feel the bumpy texture. "My mind cannot fathom what sound such a creation would make. I saw no connection for a stead to lead it."
"We call it a truck, generally." Edward supplied, setting the box down on the ground so he could pull the door open. He was right; it let out a mighty groan, and the hinges moved for the first time in who knows how long, the crumbling pieces of whatever locking mechanism it had scattering into the grass below. Lettie allowed him a little space, wiggling her body to bounce towards the passenger door, giving him enough space to swing in right beside her and position his hands naturally at the wheel and gear shift.
"A truck?"
"Yeah. It must have been sometime around the 1930s or 40s when they got popular if I'm remembering correctly." He wiggled the wheel back and forth for her to see. "Did you ever ride in a car? One that wasn't pulled by a horse?"
"Oh!" Lettie's eyes widened, her mind conjuring the image of herself and a few other ladies standing beside the road as a very vintage-looking bus drove past them. The dirt it kicked up was enough for them to wave their fans to keep it away from their faces, though it certainly didn't stop it from dirtying their intricate dresses. "Although I cannot remember if I ever laid in one, I do recall Miss Eliza Blancheman telling me it was very much like sitting in a carriage. Less…," she swayed back and forth as she explained, "side to side movement, and more an up and down. She recalled her lady's maid losing a handle of her purse and they lost her madam's precious adornment." She giggled lightly to herself. "Oh, how furious her mother was. Not allowed out of the house until she had finished her lacing, and she was never allowed in a motor car again."
"That sounds about right. Seems mothers still use the same type of punishment," Edward joked.
"They do?"
"Maybe not as harsh," he replied, running his hand over the wheel like he would when he was driving. "Esme, my Mother, was furious when my brother and I accidentally ruined one of her walls." More like completely blew threw it and, seeing that it was a load-bearing wall, collapsed the room above them. Edward tilted his face towards her, meeting her eager eyes. "We were grounded immediately. Punished by having to repair the wall and having our cars taken away. My sister had to drive us to school for the rest of the school year."
"Your family sounds lovely." Edward laughed at that.
"Lovely? More like never-ending chaos."
"Lovely and lively, then. Was that who I encountered at my family's residence?"
"Most of them, in any case. My brothers, Jasper and Emmett. Esme and Alice were the two women. Alice was the one with short hair."
"Oh, yes!" Lettie clapped her hands together eagerly. "I very much liked her hair."
"Really?" Edward raised a brow at that. Weren't women of her time, for what he could gather, very traditional with their long hair? Lettie's hair was curled and hanging in such a way that Edward could tell that she must have had it in some complicated hairstyle recently.
"She is not the first of her kind I have seen. There was a young lady who came close enough that I was able to see her hair." Edward could see Lettie's recollection of the girl, probably around their age, with bright pink choppy hair spikes sticking out in all directions. He was a little surprised that her hair was what Lettie remembered most, as the rest of her appearance, platform shoes and metal loops hanging from every article of clothing, should have been a much bigger shock. "Oh, it was absolutely magnificent! I've never seen anything like it before. Miss Alice and she would be friends, I imagine."
"Because they both have short hair?" Edward scoffed. "I don't think so."
"Why ever not?"
"Short hair doesn't mean much beyond a style choice."
"And yet, both seem to take great care in their appearance and defy the words of those around them. Is there not kinship to be found there?"
Edward mused for a moment, before replying, "You make a fair point. But the way that they express themselves is vastly different. Alice isn't into the metal and rebellious fashion of that woman. She's more into modern fashion." Although, now that he thought about it more, the two styles did have a lot of overlap. Monochrome, layers, statement shoes…
"Have you met the same young lady?" Edward snapped his gaze back to her, suspicious confusion evident in both her face and thoughts.
"Uh, no," Edward cleared his throat awkwardly. "Probably not." As quickly as possible, not even trying to hide his obvious attempt at changing the subject, he used the little knowledge of cars Rosalie taught him over the years to explain how it worked to Lettie.
Why was he hesitating to reveal the truth? It wasn't like she hadn't seen his family move at impossible speeds, hadn't heard Jasper practically explain in not so many words that he was an empath, hadn't heard them making more noise with fewer tools than any normal human would. In the hundreds of thoughts she'd had in the hour or so they'd been together, the possibility of them being something other hadn't crossed her mind once He couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was because she herself was something other.
The image that Alice showed him swam behind his eyes. If he was going to show Lettie his true self, with evidence that allowed no room for second-guessing, then there must be something she was going to say that caused him to reveal himself. Or, as unimaginable as it is, he was willingly going to reveal his family's secret before she said anything about herself. Is that what was making him hesitate? There was a vulnerability in revealing what he was that he'd never done before. His family was somewhat good at being discrete, to a certain extent, and there hadn't been an incident yet in which they had to reveal their true nature to anyone outside the vampire community. Explaining their vegetarianism, however, gave him a close idea. The disgust, the endless shouting of defying their basic instincts, the accusations of not being real vampires. Even if Lettie is something otherworldly, something he had never encountered or heard of before, there's no telling how she would react to having a name for the creature he is. Did she know anything about his kind? Did she grow up with stories or would she be completely naive to the dangers? Would she pull that same disgusted face he's seen on countless blood-drinking vampires, the face that made him feel othered in a world where he was supposed to belong?
Lettie's face had lost all traces of that suspicion from before, relaxed in a small furrow of her brow as she tried to understand the countless technical terms coming out of his mouth. He allowed her to sit behind the wheel, leaning casually against the frame of the truck while he showed her the basics of driving the old thing. Her face broke out into a smile as she bounced up and down on the seat, the old springs having a grand time being used again, doing the best to mimic the way he was turning the wheel the way he showed her, but really only being able to slide her hands back as forth as they phased through the T-shaped metal frame. It was the same smile as before, the one that had all the excitement of discovering something new, of something experiencing something amazing.
Would that smile disappear when he revealed the truth to her?
Only time would tell, he thought miserably, as it always does.