WIXLIB

over the expanse of green that went on for miles and miles, broken only by the squiggly lines ofroads, and by clear–cuts that looked like massive scars on the land. To the west beyond thetrees lay the vast, gray Pacific Ocean, mirroring the cloud cover above.Though Bella had gotten sick the first time she rode on my back returning from themeadow, it no longer bothered her. If she closed her eyes and I took care not to jostle her, shedid fine. She was surprisingly comfortable with heights too, as long as I held her securely whenwe reached the treetops. She knew I wouldn’t let her fall.I wasn’t too happy about Bella’s summer job. She was clerking three or four days a weekat the sporting goods store to build up her college fund. My annoyance wasn’t due only to howoften she saw Mike Newton at work—I hated missing the time with her. I told Bella I wanted topay her college tuition. Having her with me over the summer meant far more to me than themoney did. Besides, I had as much extra cash as she would need, as well as the means toacquire more.“No, Edward! I won’t accept your money. I can pay my own tuition.”“But why should you, Bella? The money doesn’t matter to me and if you weren’tworking, we could spend more time together.”That was the essence of an argument that recurred throughout the summer. I triedevery persuasion I could think of, but Bella would not be moved. She preferred to earn a paltrywage at a job she didn’t especially like than to accept money from me. Only Esme was happythat Bella had the job, because she got to see my face at home when Bella went to work. Ihadn’t been there as much as she would have liked in recent months.Bella and I had similar arguments about her truck. I wanted to buy her a car, somethingfaster, more reliable, quieter, more comfortable, and that got better gas mileage. I would havesettled for getting her a used car, but she would accept neither new or “pre–owned.” When Ipressed her to explain herself, she claimed that she was already getting more than she couldgive back by having me in her life and that when I gave her gifts, it threw us even more out ofbalance. It was a ludicrous belief. Bella was one–of–a–kind, the only being—human orvampire—who had ever made me feel the way she did. Loving her was everything to me. Icouldn’t give her enough gifts to equal the value she had brought to my cursed existence.Bella rejected my reasoning and flat–out refused any tangible gifts I offered her. It wasunderstandable in a way. Those who’d never had a lot of money often afforded it greatsignificance, while those of us who’d always had more than we needed didn’t. If our attitudescould be reversed, then we would have no disagreement.

As a tiny concession, Bella would accept gifts of entertainment. It was the rainiestsummer in the Olympic Peninsula’s recorded history, which meant that the Puget Sound regioneast of the Olympic Mountains lay beneath more cloud cover than was typical there during thesummer months.Gray Sundays became our “out–and–about” days of fun. While Charlie went fishing, wevisited some of the ubiquitous festivals and fairs in the area. We drove to see the tulip fields ofLa Conner while the flowers were in bloom, creating red, yellow, orange, and purple blanketsfor miles. We joined the enthusiastic crowd for the annual basset hound parade in Woodinville.I took Bella to the garlic festival in Chehalis just to prove my imperviousness and to see hertaste garlic ice cream. We rode the Ferris wheel at the Puyallup Fair with me holding Bellatightly around the waist the entire time, just in case. We held our hands over our ears whilewatching the hydroplane races from a lakeside park in Seattle and over our eyes for the nudebicyclist portion of the Solstice Parade in Fremont. (Entrants wore nothing but body paint andcycling shoes.)One afternoon, I took Bella to the Pink Door restaurant at Pike Place Market in Seattle.It’s an eclectic, warehouse–type space with fancy food, an artsy clientele, and aerialistsperforming feats of wonder and beauty while hanging from ropes and swaths of fabric attachedto the soaring ceiling.Though festivals were usually free, lunch was not, and Bella complained that there wereno prices on the menu. I encouraged her to relax and enjoy the food and ambience, but she wasuncomfortable and nothing I could say made any difference.“You have to eat,” I protested when she suggested that we leave.“McDonalds would be fine.”“Sure, but why go there when you can come to this extraordinary place and eat what Iunderstand is excellent food?”“You know why,” she chided, though she did eat some soup and bread.Bella did not want me to spend money on her. I hid or downplayed any cash that cameout of my pocket on these occasions, but Bella was vigilant and never failed to object. I thinkshe enjoyed the outings, though. I sure did. I loved to walk around with her and hold her handor her waist depending on the amount of support she required and it gave me great pleasure tosee her laugh and cut loose on occasion.We spent some blissful sunny afternoons in our meadow. While we never did anythingwe wouldn’t do at Charlie’s house, it was wonderful to have some real privacy. We touched and

held one another on the sweet–smelling grass and shared gentle kisses. We talked of love andlife and nothing in particular. We talked for talking’s sake.In spite of my doubts—in spite of everything—I found myself relaxing and enjoying thisprecious time with Bella. Sometimes I was able to put aside thoughts of right and wrong forentire days or even several days at a time.There were other days, though, when guilt got the better of me and I felt duty–bound topoint out to Bella that she shouldn’t be so comfortable with me and my kind, that I wasdangerous and unhealthy for her. At times, I would fall into a mood of remorse and self–reproach for letting Bella get so close when I knew I would have to leave her eventually.Sometimes, I considered setting a date to break things off before doing so became impossible,but I quickly realized that that day had already come and gone. I simply could not make myselfdo it.Once in a while, reality broke into my idyll, reminding me of the sad meaning ofmortality. After Bella was freed from her walking cast, her sense of balance was more out–of–whack than ever. Although her legs had never been well–coordinated and her feet alwaysseemed to trip her up, her newly healed leg was even more awkward than usual. Much toBella’s embarrassment, I asked Carlisle to take a look at it one evening when we were at myhouse.“What for?” Bella demanded.“You know how it’s been giving you trouble since you got the cast off and I thought hemight be able to feel whether the bones have healed properly,” I explained.“I’m sure they have, Edward, I just can’t operate them all that well. That’s normal forme.”“Have you ever considered that maybe it’s not normal?” I pressed.“No, not really.”“Come into the kitchen. It’ll only take a moment,” Carlisle directed, interrupting ourargument before it could get started. I appreciated his intervention. Nobody defied Carlislewhen he used his “doctor knows best” voice and like everyone, he had noticed Bella’sawkwardness on more than one occasion.“I’m sure it’s fine,” Bella maintained, but she followed my father obediently and satdown in the chair he pulled out for her.

Carlisle did a series of operations, palpating her thighs and calves, knees and ankles, andthen asking her to press her leg against his hand in different directions, both sitting down andstanding up. I held her upright when she tried to balance on one leg.“That’s straight,” Carlisle murmured to himself. “Those are fine. Hmm. Try this, Bella.Put your foot in my hand and press down as hard as you can,” he directed, crouching down tothe floor and offering his hand palm up. I held Bella around the waist as she raised her left legand placed her foot in his hand. I couldn’t detect any movement on the part of either of themas Bella pushed downward. “Now the other foot.” She did as he asked and, of course, couldn’tbudge his hand with that foot either. Carlisle stood up.“Your bones, ligaments, and tendons seem normal. Sometimes a break can stretchligaments that then need time to tighten up, but yours feel fine. Try this,” he said, holding hispalms facing Bella. “Press your palms against mine as hard as you can.” She did, and again,neither of them showed any motion as she strained. “Good. Now press my palms downward.”Again, Bella complied. Carlisle led her through a few more of these exercises, lifting her armsfrom her sides against pressure from his hand, squeezing his wrists as hard as she could, andfinally, he asked her to do the sobriety test given by troopers on the highway. She tried to walka straight line by putting heel to toe, but this maneuver was impossible for her. I followedalong, ready to catch her on each step as she lost her balance.“I’m just uncoordinated,” she explained as Carlisle asked her to look at him, hold herarms at shoulder level and touch her nose with each index finger in succession. She pokedherself in the eye once and stuck her finger in her nostril the second time.“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had been drinking,” Carlisle said, smiling.“Okay, that’s enough humiliation for one day, don’t you think?” Bella complained withmild irritation. Carlisle didn’t respond, just asked more questions as he touched her skull gentlywith his fingers, moving her hair about and throwing her lovely scent into the air.“Have you had a recent growth spurt or change in body weight?”“Not that I know of.”“Migraines or excessive tiredness?”“No.”“Are you doing unusual stretching exercises, like yoga or gymnastics?”“Good gosh, no!”

Carlisle smiled. “My guess is that your proprioceptors are not working as well as theymight. That would explain why balancing is difficult for you. Or you could have an inner eardefect. It would be worthwhile to come to the hospital and get an MRI.”“This is your fault, Edward,” Bella accused. “Carlisle wouldn’t have thought about it ifyou hadn’t insisted he examine me. No, I can’t go to the hospital. It would worry Charlie.Besides, there’s nothing wrong with me except maybe bad genetics. I appreciate your concern,Carlisle, but I’m fine. Come on, Edward. I need to get home.” Bella took my hand and startedpulling me behind her. I looked back at Carlisle.I’m not convinced, my father said silently. She should have a full work–up as aprecaution. I nodded in acknowledgement. Carlisle was implying that there could be somethingamiss in her brain, an injury, perhaps, or possibly a lesion or tumor. It would take time topersuade her. Maybe when she had her next accident or injury, Carlisle could work in the test.Don’t worry, Edward. If something aggressive were in there, then she would bedeteriorating and, more likely than not, I would feel the heat from it.“Thank you,” I said as we left the room. If Carlisle thought she had a pressing problem,he would have insisted that she come in for testing immediately. I also knew that Carlisle wouldkeep an eye on her, which was reassuring.“I’m not going to the hospital,” Bella asserted when we were in the car on the way backto her house, “so just forget it. I’ve always been a klutz. If you wanted a cheerleader, I’m sureyou could have gotten five or six.”I chuckled.“Don’t you dare!” she added.“Never fear, my darling. I promise you are the only human I will ever want.” I lifted herhand from the seat and brought it to my lips.“No vampires either,” she clarified.“No vampires either,” I agreed.

2. Frailty“No, Bella,” I whispered, reaching for her wrists and extracting her hands as they begancreeping up the inside of my sweater.“Why not? I want to touch your skin.”“Here,” I said, pushing my sleeves above my elbows.“Not the same.”“No, it isn’t. It’s much less dangerous,” I replied.“I trust you,” she whispered, trying to free her wrists.“You shouldn’t. I don’t.”“But—”“Shhh Roll over and go to sleep,” I said, removing myself from beneath the covers andresettling on top of them, leaving Bella more decidedly separated from the front of my body.Sometimes she drove me crazy in a good way, of course.“Don’t leave. I’ll be good,” she promised, turning herself to face away from me, but thenscooting backward so that her backside touched my front, the covers between us. I put onehand on her back, moved slightly away, and wrapped the other arm around her waist.“Goodnight, Bella,” I said firmly.“Oh, all right,” she sighed. “Good night.”I began humming softly and my mind started to wander. Why do lullabies work? Iwondered. It must be the gentle, repetitive rhythm, like a heartbeat. I wish I still had aheartbeat. One thing I liked about being with Bella at night was listening to, and feeling herheart beat against my chest. It was the closest thing to having my own that I would ever get. Itwas also a lure for drinking sure but I no longer let myself think that way. Reacting to thetemptation of her scent is what got me into so much trouble that first day when Bella walkedinto biology class and sat down in the chair beside me.Thump, a–thump, a–thump, a–thump I had replayed the memory so many times thatit no longer had the overwhelming impact it had had those first few weeks when I was trying toovercome my shocking visceral attraction to Bella. I had held my breath so much during biology

class last winter and spring that it became a habit for a long time. I’d automatically stopbreathing when I’d see her between classes or find her after school. The reflex seemed to begone now.After our pivotal day in the meadow together and then my first night in her room, Istayed as close to her as I could. I feared that the tolerance I’d built up over those hours wouldvanish when we separated and that when I saw her again, my impulses might get the better ofme. Now, though, after all those days and nights in the hospital with Bella, being away from herfor a few hours, or even overnight if I needed to hunt, caused no serious backsliding.It had been hard work, though, fighting the instinct to go for her throat. It was stillthere, too, the only change being that I now expected that first punch of desire when I saw heranew and could brace for it. The fire in my throat had never lessened either. It was as painful asever each time I inhaled sizzling burning. Resistance was also more complicated by the factthat I struggled both against my lust for Bella’s blood and the memory of drinking it. When thememory resurfaced, desire overtook me and the shame followed in lockstep. I had loved it somuch.One evening, a week after we returned from Phoenix, I rose from my seat beside Bellaon Charlie’s couch and prepared to leave at the prescribed time, 10:00 p.m. I pulled Bella uptoo and held her arm as she thumped along beside me in her walking cast. She followed meoutside to wish me goodnight—for Charlie’s sake mainly, since I planned to be back in aboutninety minutes.When I wrapped both arms around her waist and prepared to give her a goodnight kiss,she gestured for me to bend down so that she could whisper in my ear.“Maybe you shouldn’t stay over tonight,” she breathed.“Why not?” I asked in surprise, preparing to be offended. She had never not wanted mebefore.“Because it’s my time ,” she whispered.“What’s that supposed to mean?” Did she want to be alone? Did she need time toherself? It hadn’t occurred to me that she might, because all I wanted was to be with her everysecond. Changeable human that she was, maybe she was getting tired of me. I froze as Iconsidered that thought, knowing it would be for the best, but also bracing myself for immensepain.“You know .”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” I returned stiffly.“ of the month,” she finally finished, her face flooding with color. “It usually starts inthe night.”“Oh.” I looked down at our feet, embarrassed by my thick skull, but alsorelieved disgracefully so.Of course I knew about the human female’s menstrual cycle. Hadn’t I seen that drawingof an upside–down “pear” a million times in freshman health class? The class was always taughtby some gone–to–flab, athletic has–been in the boys’ locker room during physical educationhour. Though it was part of his contract to spend a few days each semester talking aboutpuberty and the differences between girls and boys, the coach–cum–teacher never seemedcomfortable with it and the sessions usually degenerated into snickers and offensive jokesabout girls.I’d gotten an even bigger dose of the topic in medical school. I could, of course, nameevery part of the female reproductive system, including a few parts that lots of womenprobably didn’t know about themselves. (Bartholin’s glands, anyone?) And yet, it hadn’tcrossed my mind that my human girlfriend bled several days each month.“How long does it go on?” I finally asked, raising my eyes to Bella’s face.“Four days, give or take,” she said softly, the color in her cheeks deepening seductively.Four days! It might as well be four–ever! “I don’t think I could stay away that long,” Ifretted. “At least I wouldn’t want to.”I considered quickly. Statistically, on any given day, roughly fifteen percent of the girls inhigh school were having their periods and it had never bothered me. Of course, I could pick outthe individuals easily enough, but something about menstrual blood it wasn’t the same asblood from an artery. The scent was “dead,” as if whatever was in arterial blood that attractedand sustained us was no longer present. I’d have to ask Carlisle about that. Frankly, I wassurprised that the topic had never come up between us in a hundred years or so. I guess ithadn’t been relevant to my life before. In any case, it was undeniable that I was no more likelyto bite a menstruating woman than anybody else. Therefore, I concluded that it wouldn’t be aproblem for me, though maybe it would be if it was Bella’s blood.“What are you kids whispering about out there?” Charlie yelled. “It’s past your curfew,Bella. Say goodnight and get in the house!”

“Coming, Dad,” Bella called. To me, she whispered, “I don’t want you to stay awayeither. Come back if you can if you want to, I mean.”“I do,” I said, taking her beautiful, warm face between my hands and pressing mymarble lips against her soft, full ones touching, moving, touching again. Mmmm Herbreathing accelerated and her heart galloped in the way I adored. She wove her fingers throughmy hair and began to press her body into mine in a dangerously exciting way. Reluctantly, Imoved my hands from her face to her waist and pushed her back gently. Then I ended the kissby pulling my lips away. My breath was coming faster too.“You’d better go inside,” I murmured, turning her around to face the door. Bella pushedit open and thudded in, clinging to the doorframe for balance.Turning her head toward me, she mouthed, “Come back.” I smiled and walked to mycar.I came back, of course. I couldn’t stay away; it was impossible. She attracted me like abug to a flame. Flying too close to the fire it was a good analogy for what I was doing. Bellamight think I’m a celestial being, but I’m far from it. Call me Icarus.She did start her period that night and I was relieved to discover that it didn’t make theburn any worse—how could it?—or drive me wildly out of control. Her scent was morelavender and less freesia, that was all. The change was subtle, but definitely a change. After onemonth with her, I would have smelled her scent at every sta

May 23, 2013 · Find the pictures and more at the Twilight: The Missing Pieces website: //palassiter.wordpress.com PA Lassiter . 5/23/2013 N.B. This fan fiction is based on characters created by Stephenie Meyer in her Twilight Sage. Some of the chapter titles and a