Esme - Part Two

Over the next few days, Carlisle and Esme were rarely apart. It was the cache of newfound love; mostly, they just sat together, learning everything they could about each other. Carlisle taught Esme the fundamentals of being a vampire, while Esme taught Carlisle remodeling and interior decorating. They learned each other’s pasts, what makes the other tick, and what the other loves. When the talking did cease, they mostly just sat together, sometimes just bringing out cards or pen and paper, each merely content to be with the other.

It was during one of these times, sitting on the couch, Esme doodling on a notepad and humming quietly while Carlisle watched, that Edward returned. As he opened the door, his jaw set and his eyebrows pulled together, confirming what he had already picked up from their minds. Without a word, he brushed past them and took the stairs two at a time.

Carlisle sighed. “I should have seen this coming,” he said, moving Esme off his lap to stand. “I’ll go talk to him.”

She beat him to it. “Actually, would you mind if I did instead?” she asked. “I feel as though it’s sort of my responsibility.”

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. “Be my guest,” he said, gesturing to the stairs. “But remember, Edward--”

“--always know what I’m really thinking,” Esme interrupted, squeezing his hand. “Which is part of why I want to talk to him.”

A moment later, she was knocking on Edward’s bedroom door. “Edward,” she called softly. “I’d like to talk to you. May I come in?”

“Yes,” was the reply from inside.

Esme opened the door, poking her head inside before crossing the threshold. Edward’s room contained no bed, just as Carlisle and Esme’s, but it did have a comfortable-looking black leather couch. Instead of book lining the walls, he huge collection of music.

“Hey,” Esme said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “I just noticed you looked a little upset downstairs. Was there trouble finding a place?”

Edward snorted, placing a bookmark in the pages of his novel before snapping it shut. “Was there trouble!” he repeated in a cool tone. “What you really want to ask is if there’s anything wrong with me?”

Esme gave a small half-smile. “I thought I’d be polite,” she shrugged. “And I don’t want you to be unhappy with something we can fix.”

“Politeness. It’s all a façade,” Edward said, still scornful. He tapped himself on the  head. “No secrets, remember?”

Esme nodded. “I know. But it doesn’t work both ways, Edward. If there is a problem, I’d really like to sort it out by talking to you. No trouble intended.”

Edward snorted again. “That’s just it,” he said. “You have one of the truest, kindest, most sincere minds I’ve ever looked into. Really, Esme, have you ever had a malicious thought?” His question was rhetorical.

“It’s fine if you’d rather not talk to me,” she responded quietly, one hand on the doorknob. “I’ll leave you be.”

Edward sighed. “No, that would hurt your feelings,” he said. “What I said before wasn’t meant to be a bad thing; on the contrary, it was quite a compliment.” He held up his hand. “No need to thank me for the truth. Besides, I can see you’re part of Carlisle’s life now, and that makes you part of mine. Please, sit.” He patted the couch beside him.

Esme sat and folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes, now a dark amber in their progression to gold, were warm as she waited for him to continue.

He did. “I’m sure you’ve learned the essentials of what it is to be a vampire, correct?” He read her answers before she could speak and went on. “Well then, I’m sure you know that our bodies are frozen in time. We don’t age. Therefore, when a significant outside change comes, it’s often difficult to adjust to. When you stepped into Carlisle’s life recently, such a change came for both of you. You both have, excuse my frankness, fallen in love. Changing for love… it’s a rare and permanent thing, a thing that never fades, for humans and vampires alike. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Esme nodded, and Edward hesitated before resuming his speech. When he did speak again, the words came out quietly and like lightning. “This particular change for me, is going to be, well… difficult.”

“Oh,” Esme said, speaking at last as something fell into place. Unthinkingly, she reached out to touch his hand in a motherly gesture. Almost subconsciously as well, Edward pulled his hand back, as if he didn’t want that touch. As if he didn’t want to be close to her. Esme hid her slightly hurt feelings so he wouldn’t pluck them straight out of her mind by speaking again. “Edward, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about--”

He cut her off. “It’s not as if you could have done anything about it. It would have happened anyhow, if not this than something else. We’ve been docile for too long.”

“Is there anything Carlisle or I could do to make it easier for you?” she asked, at a loss for words.

Edward stood, shaking his head, back to the distant personality he had had before. “Not at the moment, thank you.”

Esme understood. “I’ll leave you be,” she said, also standing and walking to the door. “Thank you for telling me this. I know it can’t be easy.” With one last glance over her shoulder, Esme exited, once again closing the door softly behind her. She slowly made her way back downstairs, into Carlisle’s waiting arms.

“I heard,” he said before she could speak.

“I wish there was something we could do for him.”

Carlisle rested his chin on top of her head as she leaned back on his shoulder. “Sometimes it’s just best to let them be, Mom,” he said. He folded his hands on her abdomen and kissed the left side of her neck. Those were his two special places; where he had bitten her, and where her lost child had resided. The two most significant things in her life, one because of the other. Esme sighed and closed her eyes.

A sudden chilly draft of air came drifting down the stairs. “Is there a window open?” Esme asked without opening her eyes. She felt Carlisle stiffen and sit up straighter as he answered.

“No…” Without warning, he stood and dashed up the stairs. Esme followed at a slower pace, wondering what could have roused such a strong and sudden reaction from his typical doctor’s composure.

“Carlisle, what--” She broke off at his expression.

He was standing in Edward’s room, his usually calm expression twisted in pain and confusion, holding a small piece of paper in his hand. Esme moved swiftly to his side, ducking under his arm and wrapping hers around his waist as he swayed slightly, then became more immobile than a statue. Taking the paper from him, she read it.

Carlisle and Esme,
I’m terribly sorry it has come to this so quickly, so soon after I’ve come home. I also regret that I don’t have more to say, but I need some time to myself. Maybe I’ll go find Tanya and her sisters, maybe not. I haven’t quite decided as of yet. Don’t come looking for me, please. I mean no harm to myself or others, which just makes leaving all the more challenging. This is just something I need to do. Don’t think it’s you fault, either, it was my decision. I’ll do my best to write - see below for your new address - but I can’t make any promises. You know I’ll miss you both.
Edward.

Esme’s eyes grew wider the farther down the page they traveled. When she had finished reading the note, she looked up at Carlisle. His face was still contorted with a mix of emotions; emotions that Esme recognized all too well.

“He’ll be back,” she said, tucking Edward’s note in her pocket and wrapping her other arm tightly around Carlisle. He still didn’t move, not to enfold her in his arms in return, nor to speak. She took him by the hand and tugged gently in the direction of the door. As if glued to the wooden floorboards, Carlisle still didn’t budge.

“Carlisle, please, come sit,” Esme said, to no avail. “You’re frightening me.” And indeed, he was, more so than if he were in a furious rage.

At last, he obliged. Slowly even by human standards, he allowed Esme to lead him out of Edward’s room and into theirs. Esme sat him down on the cream-colored couch, pulling up a chair so she faced him.

Taking his hands, she said, “Carlisle, breathe. That’s it. Stay with me now, okay? Edward is very responsible. He will come home soon. He knows what this must be doing to us.”

At last, Carlisle’s eyes focused. He met Esme’s gaze, and she noticed they were very dark, meaning it had been a while since he had hunted. As a vampire continued to grow more thirsty in between hunting trips, their eyes slowly faded from gold or red to pitch black.

Carlisle’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he could muster the resolve to speak. “Us?” he croaked roughly.

Esme allowed her guard to slip, bared her own sorrow. “Of course,” she said sadly. “You love him like a son; it doesn’t take much for me to do the same.”

“But you hardly know him.”

“That’s not important,” she replied.

For a split second, gratitude shone through on Carlisle’s face, but it was quickly replaced by distress once again. The ache seemed slightly eased now though. “Misery does love company,” he said, drawing Esme into his arms. He pressed his forehead to hers and let out a shuddering sigh.

Even in her grief, Esme was intoxicated by the fragrance of his breath. Attracted to even the smell, she thought bitterly. Silently, she also registered that the pain of loosing her human son had come full circle. The change had healed it to an extent, and she had found comfort in Carlisle. Of course, there would always be a small part of her that mourned him, along with the fact that she could no longer bear children, as her body didn’t change. But she had found something more. Now, she was the one comforting Carlisle; somehow, she felt stronger for it.

* * *

But despite her reassurances, Edward didn’t come home. It had been nine months since Carlisle and Esme had found his note. They had taken his advice and moved from Wisconsin to Washington state; the rainiest state in the continental U.S.. Cloud cover was necessary if vampires wished to venture out in the daytime, Carlisle explained. When Esme had asked why, he had laughed for the first time in weeks.

“There’s no turning to stone or burning to death,” he said. “The easiest way to explain is through visual aid.” At that, he took Esme by the hand and lead her outside into the bright sunlight, covering her eyes.

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “Go ahead and open your eyes.”

She did, and was momentarily blinded by what she saw. Carlisle’s skin was sparkling, literally sparkling, as though he was covered in millions of tiny, invisible diamonds. Esme’s jaw dropped at the dazzling image, and she stepped forward, reaching out to touch his face. As she did, Esme gasped, noticing her own skin was casting rainbows too.

Carlisle smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It makes us even more visually attractive to our intended prey,” he explained. “Like a carnivorous plant. Unfortunately when you’re trying to blend in with them, it’s purely unhelpful.”

Esme pushed back the sleeve of his shirt, inspecting his arm to see if that glittered too. “I feel like a child with a shiny new toy,” she said with awe.

After that day, things did start to get better. Both Carlisle and Esme began to laugh more often, and smiling became easier. Esme found a seventeenth-century mansion she set about beginning to restore while Carlisle worked at a nearby hospital. Life in general grew more enjoyable.

Until the letter came.

It had been a long day for both Carlisle and Esme; they were tired and in need of a hunting trip. As they waited for it to get dark, Esme picked an envelope up off the table - just a prop, meals never took place in the house - and went to sit next to Carlisle, who was reading on the couch.

“Evening,” she said, planting a kiss on his marble cheek. “How did your day go?”

Carlisle marked his place and looked up at her. “It wasn’t the best I’ve ever had,” he admitted. “Though it has improved since I got home.” Grinning, he kissed her again and pulled her into his arms before nodding to the envelope. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Esme replied. “It’s addressed to both of us, so I waited until you came home to open it. No return address.”

Carlisle nodded. “Go ahead then.” Esme obliged, tearing it open and pulling the letter out with a flourish. They read it together in silence.

It didn’t say much; just that he was fine, in between places to stay, that he missed them both. It was the simple six characters of his signature that sent waves of sorrow through the room. After that, Carlisle’s hours at the hospital increased, and Esme spent more time with her blueprints and paneling samples. It was as though the brief period of happiness had never occurred. And this time, Esme wasn’t sure how to recover. The depression continued on for weeks, and the only thing that changed was the amount of time Carlisle and Esme spent apart.

It was on a rare night the two of them spent in each other’s company that their emotions were whipped about again. The strained conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door; Esme turned to Carlisle.

“You’d better answer,” she said in an exhausted voice. “It’s been too long since I hunted, and we don’t want any accidents.”

Carlisle nodded, standing and putting on a tranquil mask before opening the door. Two things clicked into place as Esme gathered up her things and stood as well, intent on going upstairs. The first was that Carlisle hadn’t said anything after opening the door, and it had been a good ten seconds past the time for appropriate greetings. The second was that they both would have smelled any human from a ways off. Instead of departing up the stairs then, Esme ventured to the entryway to see who it could possibly be. The moment she saw, she ran to him as fast as she could and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Though she was at least five or six inches shorter than him, Edward still let out an “Oomph!” as Esme hit him. After the initial surprise, however, he tentatively hugged her in return.

A moment later, Esme stepped back, reaching up to plant her hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look down at her. “Don’t you ever do that to us again,” she nearly growled.

Edward still didn’t met her eyes. “Yes, Mom,” he said, somewhat ashamed. Esme pecked him on the cheek and stood back, looking expectantly toward Carlisle.

But neither he nor Edward moved. It was even a minute before Carlisle spoke.

“Are you here to stay?” he asked. His tone was stiff, but Esme knew that it was not because he was upset with Edward; he was upset with himself, though she was unsure of why. Still, she moved to his side and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

Edward was silent for just a second before answering. “Yes.” His tone was pained, and Esme saw the reason for both his and Carlisle’s being upset the moment he raised his gaze.

Edward’s eyes gleamed ruby red.

Esme managed to control herself enough so that her own reaction was to stiffen slightly. Though Edward’s eye color was that of the monster that each “vegetarian” vampire suppressed, the emotion within them couldn’t have been more opposed. His eyes reflected anguish, shamefulness, and above all, remorse. Edward was allowing his usually carefully concealed emotions to surface, which made the message they displayed even more momentous. Though Esme did feel repulsion for what she knew he’d done, her maternal instinct overpowered it. She loved him anyway.

“Edward, Edward, Edward,” she sighed shaking her head. “Did you really think we wouldn’t take you back regardless?”

Edward’s tortured gaze focused on Esme. “No,” he croaked. “That’s part of the problem. The fact that you’re just going to take me back as though nothing has changed, as if I never caused you all that sorrow, the strife in your relationship. I was reading your thoughts from a ways away before I came in view of the house. I’m horrified with myself.”

Carlisle took a deep breath, reaching forward as if to touch Edward’s arm, but dropping his hand as though thinking better of it. “It’s not easy to come to terms with,” he said gravely. “But what you have to remember is that you’re not a bad… for want of a better word, person. You made the wrong choice. We forgive you for that. Take your time. When you’re ready to talk, talk. We’ll be here to listen. You can only grow from the experience.”

Esme recognized this speech; it was nearly the same one he had given her in the middle of the woods all those months ago. She nodded in agreement with Carlisle, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder, but he shrugged away from her touch, gaze back on the floor. The door behind him as still open, clouds concealing the stars.

“Why don’t you at least come all the way inside,” she said. “You can go upstairs if you like, you don’t have to stay with us. We brought your things from the old house.”

Edward didn’t lift his gaze as he shuffled into the living room. Esme closed the door and followed Carlisle behind him. Edward sat in one of the many chairs surrounding the fireplace, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. Esme sat on the arm of his chair, rubbing his shoulders soothingly. Carlisle remained standing.

To Esme’s relief, Edward didn’t pull away from her touch as he began to speak. “I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us,” he said in a strained voice. “I knew you would be upset, but I thought that would pass quickly with time. But then I heard what you were thinking - or rather, not thinking - as I left, and realized it had been a mistake.”

“Why didn’t you turn straight around?” Esme asked, momentarily pausing her repetitive strokes. “We would have welcomed you back.”

“That… was out of… selfishness,” Edward answered, still in the broken, terse tone. “I hadn’t even been back an hour and I was finding it difficult to be there. There’s really nothing you could have done,” he said before either of the others could speak. “It wasn’t a coherent thought in either of your minds. I doubt you even know it’s there. It’s just… the way you two love each other… not in a sexual aspect… it’s not easy to be around. For me. It would be a problem with anyone else, but… I can’t exactly turn off my ability. Does that make any sense at all?”

Esme was immediately reminded of the conversation she and Edward had had the night he left. She suppressed a shudder, partly from the perfect recall of that night, partly because she knew his words were true. Edward nodded at her remembrance.

“Like I said, I doubt either of you are even conscious that you’re thinking it,” he repeated. “Even now. It’s become a second nature, I can sense that.” He looked from Esme to Carlisle and back again, temporarily sidetracked. “You really are like two halves of a whole; one’s not complete without the other.”

Esme met Carlisle’s gaze, looking deeper into his presently-dark eyes, but not in a sentimental way. It was like they were having a conversation, but nobody spoke. Edward didn’t miss the exchange.

“Exactly,” he said. “Do you see now, why it might be hard for me?”

“We’ve always known that,” Esme said quietly. “Subconsciously, at least. But this is bigger than all of us, Edward.”

“Something I’ll have to learn to live with,” Edward replied solemnly determined. “And I will. If I didn’t think I was able, I wouldn’t have come back.”

Carlisle spoke at last. “Thank you,” he said, nearly inaudible. Edward in Esme sighed in unison; he was back to normal. “Please, continue.”

Edward obliged. “The reason I didn’t turn back; now you know. There’s not much to tell after that. I couldn’t stay in one place for more  than a week, so I wandered.” He hung his head. “ And I’m ashamed to say I mostly brooded. No matter what I did, I wasn’t happy. Somewhere in my head I always knew why, but I wouldn’t allow myself to admit it. Eventually, I knew I had to come back and come to terms with you, or I’d never be content with myself. So here I am,” he finished rather lamely.

“Avoidance of the subject, Edward,” Esme said, a stern note in her voice. “We’re not upset with you, but we’d like to know why.”

Edward sighed again. “Ah. Yes. The eyes. Well, the first time, it was an accident.”

Carlisle didn’t miss the intended plural. “The first time?” he echoed, spoiling his poker face with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not proud of it,” Edward said to his knees. “A young girl being terrorized by a full-grown man in an alleyway at night.” He looked up, eyes pleading. “I couldn’t just leave her there. But his blood was spilled in the process and I… I… couldn’t resist.

“After that, resisting in general was nearly impossible. So, I stuck to the criminals and low-life’s, picking from their thoughts whether they were good or not. Never anyone innocent, I told myself, and I’m almost proud to say I stuck to that. The only thing I managed to accomplish during those months. Still, the pleasure of drinking their blood couldn’t outweigh the wordless terror in their thoughts as I… attacked them.

“It was then the realization hit me, and I decided to come back. I know, before you say anything, in order to keep up a permanent residence it’s an animal-only diet. Not only do I respect that; that’s what I want.”

For the first time in a long time, both Carlisle and Esme smiled; real, true smiles that involved much more than turning up the corners of their mouths. Carlisle clapped Edward on the shoulder. “Took the words right out of my mouth, son.”

“Welcome home,” Esme said, kissing his forehead.