Charlie's singing voice burst into the kitchen, off-key and brazen. Neither Swan had the gift of song, yet that never stopped Charlie from singing any chance he got. Realizing Bella had been caught whistling yet again, she tucked her lips between her teeth. Charlie grinned at Bella's flushed cheeks, pleased with himself. It must be in the father-daughter contract for fathers to embarrass their daughters at every opportunity.
"How do you know that one?" he asked as he joined Bella at the counter. "I haven't heard it in ages. Almost didn't recognize it."
"Oh, just something I heard on the radio, I think." Bella knew it was the song Edward sang along to on the way to the market. She could still picture him, still hear his satin-smooth voice.
"You've been smiling all day," Charlie noted. "When you aren't whistling, that is."
The day had been bright and sunny, with more to come according to the weatherman. Bella finished laundry that afternoon, so her favorite pair of sweatpants were back in the rotation. A batch of hot chocolate melted in her new cezve—gifted to her by a beautiful, superpowered boy with sweet words and sweeter lips.
How could anyone do anything but smile?
"It's been a good weekend, I suppose."
"Does it have anything to do with the mysterious appearance of this?" he tapped the cezve with his pointer finger. "And this?" he gestured to the coffee grounds. "Or any of these?" he pointed back to the tea kettle and six copper cups.
Bella smiled fondly at the newest additions to the ever-present miscellaneous pile of junk. On the drive back to her truck, Edward begged Bella to take the Turkish antiques, claiming his family didn't drink caffeine. That fact took Bella several moments to digest before Edward could plead his case. When he did, he said if he brought any of it home, he would have to explain his mind-reading mishap to his parents and siblings and would prefer to save himself from the embarrassment.
"I told you I attended that antique fair."
"After you attended Sunrise Yoga on the Rise, despite your claim to never go back."
Charlie's voice rose in tone with each observation. He was quick. If Edward were there, he would hear the gears turning in her father's mind at a hundred miles a minute.
"You bought a month of classes for two people and decided you didn't like yoga. I needed to go—otherwise, it would have been a waste of money."
"So, you admit there was a guest with you. Otherwise, it would have been a waste of money."
Bella said nothing, taking her good, sweet time to scrape down the sides with her spatula.
"Was it a friend from school?"
"Yes."
Charlie's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Bella grimaced. She could hide behind little white lies and half-truths all she wanted, but in the end, her face gave everything away.
"Who is he?" Charlie pressed.
"How are your dates going?" she asked abruptly. "Did you meet up with that guy you matched with?"
Usually, Bella could avoid awkward conversations by switching the conversation to Charlie. She evaded the birds and the bees three times by asking about the shoes he wore. But, nothing was going to distract Charlie from this. The kitchen could be burning down around them, and Charlie's lips would still be pressed in the same hard line they were in now. He would still furrow his brow, quirk his head to the side and say, "Isabella Marie…"
"Dad," Bella leveled her voice, "it's still really early. I don't want to jinx anything..."
As she spoke, Bella reached back to grab one of the mugs hanging from hooks under the upper cabinet. A rookie mistake for anyone with balance issues. She stumbled back and caught herself on the counter by the tips of her fingers briefly. Her fingers bent back to an unnatural angle. The small snap rang in her ears like a bell in a tower. She released the counter and fell to the floor.
Used to Bella's accidents on a daily basis, Charlie continued the conversation like she wasn't sprawled on the ground. "As a dad, I obviously need to know that you're making safe decisions. But as a friend, I hoped things wouldn't change between us just because you went to college…"
"Oh my god!"
"…It hurts my feelings that there are now things you won't share with me."
Bella lifted my hand—the pain in her arm too great for something as silly as a broken finger. "I broke my hand!"
"Who's the boy?"
"Dad!" Bella wailed, tears in her eyes.
Charlie's eyes flashed to the middle finger which was already starting to swell.
"Right, right!" Dad-mode finally overtook best friend-mode. Charlie switched off the stove, then helped Bella stand. "All right, darling, get to the car!"
The rush to the emergency room was a familiar ritual. Charlie draped a coat across Bella's shoulders while she put on the special no-slip, lace-less shoes purchased solely for hospital visits. When they walked into the emergency room, the receptionist greeted them by name, and the few nurses bustling through offered a sympathetic smile in their direction. Bella filled out the paperwork in record time—it was basically muscle memory at that point.
Charlie and Bella prepared to hunker down when Nurse Sue called her name. She beckoned Bella with a curl of her pointer finger. "The new doctor is just about ready for you."
"Must be a slow night."
Charlie did not appear to hear his daughter. His eyes were bright with wonder as he looked at the double doors, like they led to the promised land rather than the examination room. "The new doctor!" he whispered too loud and too close to Bella's ear. "That could be Doctor Cullen!"
"Do you need to remind you that he is a married man?"
"No," Charlie grinned with a wink, "but you may have to remind him."
Bella didn't have the chance to roll her eyes before
"You hurt your hand this time?" Sue asked.
"Yup. I've never broken my left hand before."
"Maybe someone will finally get Bingo," she teased. The Bingo sheet of Bella's accidents was a running joke between the nurses.
The standard tests and protocols were completed with minimal wait, which was the best Bella could ask for. The worst part about any emergency room visit was always the waiting. After about two hours, Sue bustled in one, final time to announce, "The new doctor will see you now."
Standing to her left, Charlie sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. Bella turned in the direction of the door, and felt her jaw slacken. Charlie had not exaggerated. Doctor Cullen was young, blonde, and more handsome than any celebrity. Something about the gentleness in his gaze and kindness in the set of his perfect mouth had Bella's heart pounding. Bella swallowed, glad that Sue had been the one to administer her heart rate test.
"Isabella Swan?"
Bella and Charlie nodded in wooden synchronization.
"How's the hand?"
The answer came out as a croak, "Hurts."
"I bet. Sue suspects you broke the growth plate. Now, let's see what we have here…"
Through the thin, plastic gloves, Dr. Cullen's hands were freezing. Reflexively, she pulled her hand from the chill. A second after, she returned her hand to where it was, apologizing under her breath.
"Doctor's hands," he smiled, "always chilly."
Bella forced a smile. The strongest sensation of DeJa'Vu swept through her, bringing goosebumps to her flesh faster than the cold.
Before Bella could place the sensation, Dr. Cullen had completed his assessment and started explaining the next steps to her star-struck father. Neither of them caught everything that had been said and suddenly, supplies for the cast were delivered into the room. It wasn't Bella's first broken finger, but it was her first broken growth plate, so she was shocked and embarrassed when she saw how far up her arm the cast would have to go. Up to her elbow.
As Doctor Cullen began the casting process, he started with some light, easy questions: where Bella went to school, her major, how long they'd been in Forks. When the conversation lulled, he moved on to Bella's extensive medical record, as most doctors did.
"I see you were in here just a few months ago with a broken rib."
"I thought I could change a lightbulb by standing on a pile of books instead of a chair," she explained. "Landed on the bookcase."
"And in the spring? Your elbow?"
"I fell over while tying my shoelace."
He chuckled, politely. There was something in his half-smile that pulled Edward to mind. Then, Edward was all she could see. She knew she was obsessed, but she didn't think her obsession went so far as to imagine his perfect face on another. But there he was. Or, very close to him. Same golden eyes. Same pale skin. Same slender nose, perfectly proportioned to his face. Same breathtaking, heart-wrenching, soul-consuming smile.
"Do you know Edward Masen?"
Recognition flashed in the doctor's eyes for a fraction of a second, but the rest of his face remained in that same, serene smile. "I don't believe I do. Did he pass through the ER recently?"
"No," Bella squeaked.
The doctor did not fill the silence with pleasantries after the question. When he was complete, he reached for the folder with care instructions, but found it was empty. He excused himself from the room and promised he'd be right back.
The moment the swinging doors stilled, Charlie leaned in and asked, "Who was that you asked about?"
Bella kept her voice as level as possible, "A kid from my school."
Charlie pursed his lips. "Why do you think Dr. Cullen lied about not knowing who he is?"
Bella's eyebrows rose, shocked that Charlie picked up on that, too. Though, she supposed she got her perception from somewhere. "I don't know."
"Weird," Charlie muttered. He crossed his arms against his chest and angled his body between Bella and the swinging door, like he thought he needed to protect his daughter from the lying doctor.
Bella's head throbbed. Not from the pain in her hand. Charlie spoke the question running through her mind: why would Dr. Cullen lie? Edward said he was adopted. Perhaps Dr. Cullen was a blood relative. He was too young to be Edward's father, but he could be an uncle or something. Bella might have uncovered some great mystery about Edward's family tree.
Father and daughter jumped when the doors swung open again, though they both expected Dr. Cullen's immediate return. He waved the instructions in the air, proudly.
"Now, based on the size of your record, I'm sure you're an expert on cast maintenance," he said as he handed the document to Charlie, "but it is protocol."
"We'll add it to the scrapbook," Charlie grinned.
Carlisle regarded him strangely like he wasn't sure whether to take Charlie's comment as a joke or not. He must not have, because after he discharged Bella, he wished Charlie luck on the scrapbook.
Charlie and Bella stared at each other for an extra beat, alone in the emergency room.
"Lovely face," Charlie looked at the door then back at Bella. "Strange man."
oOo
Edward stretched his hand out into the sunbeam. Rays of light and color burst back into the dark room as he fluttered his fingers. Out of habit, he stuck to the shadows on sunny days. He tried to avoid any reminder of his vampiric nature, and his skin in the sunlight was the least subtle reminder of them all. A literal beacon for what he was.
A twenty-sided dice hit Edward square on the cheek. The plastic made the same sound when it hit his face as it did when it clattered to the concrete floor.
"It's your turn," Emmett said. His tone suggested it hadn't been the first time he tried to catch Edward's attention.
"Sorry," he muttered as he returned his full attention to the elaborate, cooperative board game stretched out on the table. Those were the only types of games Emmett and Edward could play together, because of his gift. It became a ritual for them to set up a long, tedious game every time the sun kept them from school.
They were losing. Badly. And it was Edward's fault.
He raked his fingers through his hair. "How did we perpetuate darkness?"
"We don't have to play," Emmett said.
"No, no. Let's keep going. We wanted to give ourselves a challenge, no?"
Only after a few turns, Edward's mind drifted back to the sunlight, streaming into the basement from a single window far above his head. He wished to see how Bella looked in the sunlight. He saw hints at the fair. Dangerous moments where the sun would break through the cloudy barrier and illuminate the strands of Bella's thick, mahogany hair, bringing out the shades of red and gold.
"Jesus Christ, Eddie!" Emmett exclaimed, throwing his cards on the table.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just… ugh. Did the sun have to shine today?"
Alice skipped gracefully down the steps, solely to spectate the catastrophic loss she saw in a vision moments ago. "The answer isn't going to change whether you ask Bella on a date today or Friday."
"Are you serious?" Emmett frowned. "We're losing to this level two boss because you're distracted by a girl?"
Edward felt for his brother. Emmett never let his wife interfere with their time together, yet Edward could not return the favor. But Edward had bigger problems than his brother's irritation.
"Friday?" Edward picked out the word with alarm. "The sun will be out until Friday?"
Alice shrugged. "That's what the weatherman said. Esme already had Carlisle write us up some Doctor's notes."
"Maybe I could just go to the library," Edward speculated aloud. "Sit in a sunless corner. Hope that she shows up…" She surprised him once in the library. He had returned to that same spot every day since, hoping to find her again, to no avail. He planned to suggest they meet every afternoon to complete their assignments, until the sun reared its ugly head. Edward scowled in its direction as if could sense his indignation.
Alice scrunched her face, willing a vision to come to her along with Edward's decision. Emmett's thoughts ran rampant with scenarios of a furious Rosalie if Edward did something so reckless. He was already on her bad side—or her worse side, as he was never on her good side.
"Fine," Edward conceded, the silent scolding of his siblings just as effective as any verbal.
Carlisle's Mercedes pulled up to the house. Sunny days never affected him, for he always worked the night shift at the hospital. It was another display of his never-ending kindness, taking the dreaded spot despite his credentials so a human wouldn't need to. In his mind, he recited the long list of names from an early book in the Christian Bible. It was his standard exercise whenever he wanted to hide something from Edward. The trick only occurred at Christmastime. Sometimes around his birthday. Never on a seemingly random Monday morning. Carlisle never had anything to hide.
Edward's brow furrowed. Simultaneously, Alice had a vision of Edward in Carlisle's study, his hands in his hair, a panicked expression twisting his face. He rose, murmured an apology to Emmett, and raced to Carlisle's study. Alice whispered her vision to Emmett. Then, they followed.
Edward waited for Carlisle at the door to his study. Esme poured her heart and soul into the space. It was the most eclectic room of the house, stuffed with antiques from all the years of Carlise's life. An ancient rug, a globe that needed to stay in shadows behind a glass barrier, a feinting couch. Each held a special memory in Carlisle's long life. There was a separate library in another one of their houses, but his current study always housed Carlisle's favorites and books that came in handy in his medical practice. The opposite wall was just as cluttered with paintings, each depicting a moment in Carlisle's life. Some were realistic interpretations of actual events, some based on years, some were modern interpretations, swirling with vivid colors. The largest was an oil painting of Carlisle and Esme on their wedding day. The smallest was a polaroid of Esme smiling—the first picture they ever took.
Bella would adore this room. Curious questions would fly from her pretty lips faster than Edward could answer them. Edward's wistful smile faded when Carlisle appeared at the top of the stairs, his eyes grave and his mouth pressed into a hard line. Despite his troubled expression, he still took the time to sit behind his grand, mahogany desk and gestured for Edward to join him in one of the chairs. "Isabella Swan was emitted into the ER this evening."
"What?" Edward flew out of his seat. "Where? Why? What happened!?"
Carlisle raised both hands, "She's home. She's safe. She broke a growth plate." He pointed to the spot on his hand. "She'll be in a cast for six weeks, but otherwise will be fine."
"Oh, thank god," Edward muttered, collapsing back into the seat. The antique wood groaned in protest.
Carlisle leaned forward onto his elbow, creating a temple with his fingers. Dread churned in Edward's stomach. If someone hurt her on purpose, Edward could not promise he would remain in the house…
"While I was applying her cast, she asked if I knew you."
"Why would she ask that? I'm a Masen. You're a Cullen."
In all the years of their charade, no one had asked that question. The Cullens were very careful to separate themselves in the public eye, sticking to small groups no larger than three. With their separate last names, no one would suspect they were related more than they would two humans with the same skin and eye color. They hid their obvious similarities from the world: their enhanced abilities, their diet, their alien, stone-like skin. They played human long enough that hiding their strength and speed was more natural than using it. There were plenty of lies to explain their diet and they were careful never to use the same one as another member of the family. And obviously, no one would ever get close enough to touch two of them. One cool, hard hand rarely stood out.
Edward's hands gripped the ends of his hair.
He held Bella's hand. It was through gloves but so was Carlisle's cool, hard touch at the hospital. If there was one person who would piece together two minor details that most others would ignore, it was Bella.
"Son…" Carlisle started. At the concern in their father's voice, Alice and Emmett stepped in from where they shamelessly eavesdropped in the hall. Emmett sat in the chair beside Edward while Alice hopped up onto Carlisle's desk and folded her legs under her.
"I held her hand. At the market."
"That shouldn't be an issue. It was cold outside yesterday. It was cold in the hospital."
Alice frowned, "Piece that together with the color of your eyes…"
"Still, gold eyes and cold skin?" Emmett shook his head. "Neither of those things scream vampire. Especially to a human."
It was true. In common vampire lore, vampire eyes were either black, red, or unaffected by the nature of the beast. The golden eyes that came with their animal-based diet were rare—rare enough that even other vampires did not know such a thing existed.
However, the more time Edward spent with Bella, the more details she would pick up on. He could lie about a restricted diet or severe allergies, but eventually she would notice that he did not eat at all. There were countless excuses he could contrive that would explain his cold hands, but eventually she would realize they never warmed, no matter how long they held hers.
"Besides," Emmett leaned back in his chair, "why are you trying to hide it? If you want to be with her, she's going to have to learn the truth eventually."
The study seemed to shrink as the elephant entered the room. If Edward continued to peruse Bella—and he wanted to continue. More than anything, he wanted to pursue Bella—the conversation would switch from how to keep the truth from Bella to how they would reveal the truth to Bella.
"It would be better for her to hear it from you." There was no vision to support Alice's claim. Only her understanding of human nature.
"Are you going to tell her, Edward?" Carlisle asked, gently.
Edward opened his mouth, only to close it again.
As clearly as if she stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders, Edward heard Esme's voice. "Let her choose, Edward."
"Whatever my relationship I have with Bella will be her choice. It would be prudent for her to have all the facts before she makes her decision."
"You all seem so confident that this girl will simply accept Edward for what he is."
Edward flinched as Rosalie rode into the room upon her high horse. The two hadn't spoken since the fight in the practice room. In a movement so smooth it could have been rehearsed; Emmett shifted his leg so Rosalie could perch on his knee.
Her golden eyes were wide and innocent as she addressed Carlisle. "I imagine she has some sense of self-preservation, even if she is…" Rosalie skipped over the thought. "There is a very, real chance that she'll hate Edward upon learning the truth. That she will want nothing to do with him."
"I know," the words grated against his skin.
Rosalie continued, "There's also the chance that she will sell us out. Tell everyone who will listen about the monster that lurks among them."
"Bella cares for me as I care for her," Edward said, the memory of her kiss in the forefront of his mind. "Even if she discovers the truth and doesn't…" want me, he couldn't quite say out loud. "She wouldn't do anything to hurt me. To hurt us."
"How can you be so certain?"
"Because Bella is good," his dead heart clenched at the severity of the understatement. She was more than good. She was… everything. "She's kind and thoughtful and selfless. She will listen to what I have to say and act in earnest."
Rosalie immediately scoffed, but Carlisle considered Edward. He was a practical man—a thoughtful man. Even before Rosalie's interruption, he considered each possible threat that could emerge with Edward's decision and examined it from all angles.
The safety of the family was always his first priority. The happiness of the family was an extremely close second.
He drummed his fingers on the desk in a short, sharp rhythm—the mark that a decision had been made. "Allow Jasper to assess the situation. If he senses fear or suspicion from this girl, you will back off. If she cares for you like you say she does, he will sense that, too. We will take this slowly. Day-by-day. You will do nothing without discussion."
Edward nodded.
Carlisle leaned back in his desk chair and addressed the rest of his vampire children. "This will remain between Edward and me. The two of us will decide how to proceed with each development." It was the kindest way to tell a group of people to butt out.
"Alice, where's Jasper?"
"He and Esme are painting." Jasper and Esme occasionally spent their sunny days in a secluded location with a large canvas and a tin of watercolors.
He nodded. "Leave them to it. I'll tell Jasper his role when they return."
Without Carlisle's direct command, Edward and his siblings sensed the dismissal. Rosalie left with a sweet smile aimed in their father's direction, pulling Emmett behind her. Chagrin brewed in her thoughts dark and deep as a storm, but she could not act upon them without activity defying Carlisle's wishes—something she would never do. Alice reminded Carlise about their afternoon plans to watch their favorite hospital show before she, too, bounded out of the room.
"Edward," Carlisle called out in his mind. At a slow, human pace, Carlisle rose from his seat and walked around his desk. He sat in the chair Emmett had occupied moments earlier.
"You spent so much of your immortal life alone. I worry that I am the reason you seclude yourself in the furthest corners. That my thoughts cast you off."
"It wasn't your fault, Carlisle."
It was Edward. It had always been Edward. He understood he was better company in short bursts. Someone could hide their darkest thoughts for a week at Christmas or a summer vacation, but to expect them to be on their guard at all times was unfair.
"Esme isn't the only one relieved that you might have finally found your person. I want your relationship with Isabella Swan to succeed. But you must understand my caution."
"I do. I plan to ask Isabella on a date this Friday. Jasper can listen in and feel what she feels."
"That will be an excellent start." Carlisle nodded. "If you need me to speak to her father, let me know. We will figure out a charade one way or another."
Edward grinned. "I don't think that will be an issue. Modern girls no longer need their father's blessing."
His brow furrowed for a moment, then lifted. Edward laughed as his father placed himself back in the current era.
"I don't believe we'll acquire any goats with her hand, either."
"Ha, ha."
The two shared a genuine laugh. Then, after a lull, Edward asked, "How is she?"
"As I said, she'll be in a cast for six weeks. Nothing series."
Edward rephrased the question, to get the answer he wanted, "How was she?"
"Very lovely. Polite. Kind. Rather… um…" Bella's thick medical record popped into his head, "…clumsy."
Edward chuckled, unable to swoop in to defend her. There was no denying it. Edward told Carlisle of all the times Bella's feet slid out from under her, hindering her from maintaining a proper yoga stance for longer than three seconds. The antiques he caught and steadied behind her back, leading her to believe she didn't leave mass destruction in her wake. The routes he slyly guided her along while their hands were intertwined, keeping her from challenging terrain.
"Is it odd that I find it charming?"
Carlisle's smile warmed and grew. He placed a tender hand on my shoulder. "You will find that when you love a girl, everything about her will be charming. Esme could grow horns and I would say she were more exquisite for them."
The word love stood out, sparkling like Edward's skin in the sun. He knew of love. He felt it for his family. He experienced it through countless thoughts of friends and strangers alike. Tied to Bella, the word took on an entirely new meaning.
Okay, okay. This is the Carlisle vibe I wanted. Kind, attentive, yet in control. It never seemed like he had control over the coven in the saga, despite being the leader. Idk why, but it always put a bad taste in my mouth. Sorry about the bad first impression we got a few chapters ago.