Edward once said that if he could be human for Bella, than he would do anything. But what if her was human when they met... in 1917. Would that completely change the relationship that we know and crave for, or will their love burn as strong as ever??
This is a story that I have been thinking about for awhile. I really hope that you all like it.
2. The meeting
Rating 3.2/5 Word Count 894 Review this Chapter
We walked down the street in silence, my mother and I. The market was busy, and the shops were full as we made our way, careful not to slip on the cobblestones.
Mother unlocked the shop door, and the golden bell rang sweetly as we crossed the threshold. Mother set right to work pulling out a bold of yellow fabric. Handing me a dress of mint green silk and a needle and thread, she sent me to work embroidering orchids and vines on the bodice and skirt of the gown.
My fingers flew across the fabric as my neat stitches formed a cascade of leaves and petals. My eyes to the window, and my mind wandered. Because of my distraction, the thimble fell off my finger, and the needle jabbed into the soft flesh of my index finger.
I yanked my hand away, hissing under my breath as the pain sharpened. Blood leaked out of the tiny hole. Darting to the sink I grimaced as the cold water rushed over all the previous holes. Everyday… every single day… I thought to my self, as I remembered yesterday’s incident.
At least I hadn’t gotten any blood on the gown. Very gently I wrapped my finger in a tiny slip of cloth, and replaced the thimble and set back to work.
I was almost completely finished with the bodice when I heard the bell in the front room ring.
A women’s voice reached my ears soft as velvet. “Hello, my dear Mrs. Swan, how have the stitches been?”
My mother answered. “The stitches came out beautifully; in fact I have my talented daughter working on the embroidery now, Madam Mason. Shall I call for her to show you?”
There was a pause, and then my mother voice reached my reached my ears again. “Isabella, darling, please come and show Madam Elizabeth Mason, your work.”
I rose from my bench, and made my way swiftly out of the room, dress in hand. However I was stopped in my tracks when I saw who had accompanied Madam Mason to the shop.
The attractive and eligible Edward Mason stood at her side, and I almost dropped the gown. He was too perfect for human speech.
His vibrant green eyes pierced mine, and I could feel the rush of blood reach my cheeks as my eyes darted to the ground. I heard Madam Mason laugh lightly and –once I glanced up—found her green eyes searching my face. She smiled lightly, her eyes warm as she appraised me.
“My husband is out of town, so my son dutifully agreed to escort me around town while I attended to my personal errands, so you see Miss Swan.” She gestured with her hands.
“Isabella… please.” I mumbled, embarrassed to be call Miss Swan.
“Oh… well then, by all means, if I am to call you Isabella, then you must call me Elizabeth.” I stood shocked for a moment, that someone as highly ranked socially, would ask me to refer to them as by first name only, especially on the first meet. It was appalling.
My eyes widened and a new flush reddened my still pink cheeks when I found Edward Mason’s gaze still firmly attached to my face. I gave a jerky nod at Madam Mason’s request and made my way over to the display table so quickly that I almost tripped. I laid out the dress for her approval.
She made her way over the table and stood for a few moments only examining. Then, finally, after about 5 minutes, her long slender fingers ran over the seams and one of the vines that I had sewn.
“This is absolutely perfect.” Her voice caught in awe, and excitement, and a feeling if contentment washed over me. I couldn’t help but feel pride at the work that my mother and I had done together.
“The bodice is done, as you can see, Madam Mason.” Her eyes darted to me face, a light smile crinkling the soft skin her eyes, as she realized that I hadn’t called her Elizabeth. “And all that I have left to do is a pattern running up the skirt.” I finished.
I noticed that her eyes stayed on my face, a look of admiration and indecision in her eyes. Finally they cleared and she smiled brightly at me.
“Isabella… How would you like to have dinner with Edward and I tonight? Since my husband is out of town there is a space open at our table, and I am sure that Edward as well as myself would enjoy you company.”
I stood speechless for more than a few moments. This was inconceivable. The Mason family was one of the most highly regarded and prestigious families in all of Chicago. And me only a seamstress’s daughter! It made no sense to my now racing mind and heart.
"She would love to.” My mother voice rang out from behind me, almost unrecognizable with excitement and anticipation.
“Very well, then.” Said Madam Mason come to the front entrance this evening at around 5:00 pm. There will be someone there waiting to escort you to the dining room from there.”
“Thank you.” I whispered although I don’t think that she heard me, for she had slipped out of the shop, Edward on her heels, his eyes still glued to my face.