Twilight - Stephenie Meyer [106]
“Please, call me Carlisle.”
“Carlisle.” I grinned at him, my sudden confidence surprising me. I could feel Edward’s relief at my side.
Esme smiled and stepped forward as well, reaching for my hand. Her cold, stone grasp was just as I expected.
“It’s very nice to know you,” she said sincerely.
“Thank you. I’m glad to meet you, too.” And I was. It was like meeting a fairy tale — Snow White, in the flesh.
“Where are Alice and Jasper?” Edward asked, but no one answered, as they had just appeared at the top of the wide staircase.
“Hey, Edward!” Alice called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of black hair and white skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of me. Carlisle and Esme shot warning glances at her, but I liked it. It was natural — for her, anyway.
“Hi, Bella!” Alice said, and she bounced forward to kiss my cheek. If Carlisle and Esme had looked cautious before, they now looked staggered. There was shock in my eyes, too, but I was also very pleased that she seemed to approve of me so entirely. I was startled to feel Edward stiffen at my side. I glanced at his face, but his expression was unreadable.
“You do smell nice, I never noticed before,” she commented, to my extreme embarrassment.
No one else seemed to know quite what to say, and then Jasper was there — tall and leonine. A feeling of ease spread through me, and I was suddenly comfortable despite where I was. Edward stared at Jasper, raising one eyebrow, and I remembered what Jasper could do.
“Hello, Bella,” Jasper said. He kept his distance, not offering to shake my hand. But it was impossible to feel awkward near him.
“Hello, Jasper.” I smiled at him shyly, and then at the others. “It’s nice to meet you all — you have a very beautiful home,” I added conventionally.
“Thank you,” Esme said. “We’re so glad that you came.” She spoke with feeling, and I realized that she thought I was brave.
I also realized that Rosalie and Emmett were nowhere to be seen, and I remembered Edward’s too-innocent denial when I’d asked him if the others didn’t like me.
Carlisle’s expression distracted me from this train of thought; he was gazing meaningfully at Edward with an intense expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward nod once.
I looked away, trying to be polite. My eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. I suddenly remembered my childhood fantasy that, should I ever win a lottery, I would buy a grand piano for my mother. She wasn’t really good — she only played for herself on our secondhand upright — but I loved to watch her play. She was happy, absorbed — she seemed like a new, mysterious being to me then, someone outside the “mom” persona I took for granted. She’d put me through lessons, of course, but like most kids, I whined until she let me quit.
Esme noticed my preoccupation.
“Do you play?” she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.
I shook my head. “Not at all. But it’s so beautiful. Is it yours?”
“No,” she laughed. “Edward didn’t tell you he was musical?”
“No.” I glared at his suddenly innocent expression with narrowed eyes. “I should have known, I guess.”
Esme raised her delicate eyebrows in confusion.
“Edward can do everything, right?” I explained.
Jasper snickered and Esme gave Edward a reproving look.
“I hope you haven’t been showing off — it’s rude,” she scolded.
“Just a bit,” he laughed freely. Her face softened at the sound, and they shared a brief look that I didn’t understand, though Esme’s face seemed almost smug.
“He’s been too modest, actually,” I corrected.
“Well, play for her,” Esme encouraged.
“You just said showing off was rude,” he objected.
“There are exceptions to every rule,” she replied.
“I’d like to hear you play,” I volunteered.
“It’s settled then.” Esme pushed him toward the piano. He pulled me along, sitting me on the bench beside him.
He gave me a long, exasperated look before he turned to the keys.
And then his fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory, and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it