Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Returning to Chicago

Summary:
Following their Honeymoon, Edward and Bella return to Chicago to live in his family's home. Yet Edward and Bella aren't the only ones residing in 254 Cherry Lane--Elizabeth Masen's resides in the home and is not just welcoming Edward home, but a mysterious girl who seems to have captured her sons heart. Sequel to 1918, pre-Breaking Dawn. Now Complete. only adult for profanity when appropriate, and used sparingly.


Notes:
Following their Honeymoon, Edward and Bella move into his former home in Chicago where their are more than vampires wandering the halls, Told from the Point of View of Elizabeth Masen, with Bella in Italics. Chapter Nine, Walking Two Worlds, now updated!


2. Hippies in the Study

Rating 3.6/5   Word Count 1877   Review this Chapter

“Edward, how many rooms does this house have?” I asked as we reached the end of one hallway. When we had pulled up in the taxi cab, the house seemed as though it would be rather small. Just a victorian style townhouse, surrounded by those of it’s own kind. A hundred years old with strong trees stood as the witnesses of a century’s social development. I was under the impression when Edward talked about this house that it was small and quaint. An hour and half after the fact I had learned that the Masen Family Manor was anything but small or quaint. It was massive.

“Grandmonther wanted a large house,” Edward shrugged simply. “Only the best for her only son—and her desired grandchildren,” he smiled casually as we reached another hallway. “You’ve seen the kitchen , dinning room, the reception room, the downstairs library—“

“And the guest room, your father’s study, your study, your old bedroom, what else is there?” I asked impaciently. We stopped infront of two French doors, white lace curtains covering the window panes from the other side. “Mother’s study.”


I followed them as they entered the room. Bless that son of mine, everything was just as it had been nine decades. I examined the girl’s expression as she looked at the wall full of books, family portraits and china knick-knacks. Her hand traced the outline of my day bed, before she sat down on it, looking casually at the foot of it at my first edition copy of Sense and Sensibility. It had been the book Eddie gave to me following our engagement-- Another smile crosses my face as I realize Edward placed the bookmark just were I had all those years ago—

“Chapter 48—When Edward returns,” she mused quietly to herself, picking it up and touching the spine carefully, as though she feared touching it would lead to it turning into dust. Pehaps I could grow to like this girl. After all, she knows the classics, and it appears that we never will argue, as I am the dead and she possibly the undead...maybe this marriage won't be that horrific.

"Was this was her room?” she asked Edward, who had joined her now on the day bed, a little too close then I would have liked.“Every room had mother’s touch to it. Flower arrangements in the reception room, apron designs in the kitchen—even the picture frames were to her liking, but this one most defiantly was her own,” he pauses looking at a bookshelf full of my effects.“ When ever she and Father went on travels she would come home with a trunk of new items to display, most of them books, photographs, paintings— when I was old enough to accompany them father and I apparently would make bets on how much mother’d bring home for Edna, Sherrie and the house."

"You know, Esme, she always has been doating, ever caring and motherly, but Carlisle always speaks in almost a revernece about my mother. As though she was a saint only to be mentioned in the most respect--I wish I just knew more about her... other than her hatred for corsets and collective spoons..."

“Not your everyday Victorian mother was she?” the girl asks again, leaning on Edward’s shoulder as he once again takes her hand. “No, no she wasn’t," he laughs.

My head suddenly tilts, Of course I wasn't the everyday Victorian Mother--good heavens, Edward was just born when Victoria died; the thoughts of what my proper lable in society was driven away as I watched the two move closer and closer...Maybe investing in those prewett collecive spoons would have been a good idea, I'd have something shiney to focus my attention on rather then the two speaking in hushed tones.

I feel suddenly as though I am a stranger intruding on a tender moment as I watch my son lift his wife’s hand and kiss it tenderly. I move to sit down on the piano stool so that I might have a better glance at this girl who’s being rocked by my little boy, and as I do I notice a flash on her hand that I’d recongnize any where.

I look at my own left hand, and see the memory of it still there.

My wedding ring.

The dainty band that Eddie had placed on my finger a century ago. The feather light gold that was wrapped around and nestling the shimmering diamonds that sparkled with even the faintest amount of light. I had never taken it off. Except for the occasional trips to the Lake, it had always rested on my hand, from the moment the Priest had blessed the rings until the present moment, I had always worn that ring; and now it was placed on Edward's bride's finger.

“So this is home?” the girl asked, lifting her head off Edward’s shoulder. I watched as he cupped her face in his hands. “Yes sweetheart, this is home.”

I stood not even a foot away, watching as he lifted her face towards him slowly and then began to kiss her lips sincerely at first and then it came to a point at which I know it was a good thing Grandmother Masen was long since dead; my eyes set on my diamond, glittering on her hand as it raced through and knoted in his hair.

“Lizzie,” a voice called from the doors. I looked over to see my husband staring at the two engaged in what appears to be a contest on who can eat the other person's lips first, and then myself. I walked over to my husband, forever young in his eternal state, his own 1918 dress suit was as proper as everything was in the house. The only different thing was his expression, his dark hazel eyes deep with question.

As I reached his side by the doorframe, he hastily whispered, “Lizzie, did Edward sell the house to those Hippies?”

“What are you doing here Eddie, you don’t usually come down?” I smile, ignoring the question. “ I thought you’d like the company—but these Hippies—“I couldn’t help but chuckle. The last time my Eddie had come for his death-day visit, it was the 1960s.

“Eddie dear, those Hippies would be your son, and our daughter-in-law,” I started, trying to think of the kindest way to portray my feelings for the new union, turning my glance back to my husband and away from the two, who had stopped embracing and were now talking something about boundries that must be kept, just for a while longer.

Eddie turned so quickly that his golden rimmer glasses nearly flew off his face. “Our daughter-in-law? Edward married—” he looked at the girl and then at Edward.

“I thought he was a vampire—“I gave a nod, knowing slightly were this was going. While I was able to somewhat grasp what had happened to Edward in those early days, Eddie hadn’t. The thought that your son is a vampire is very hard to sell to parents, especially parents who grew up reading Bram Stoaker’s tales. The fear of your only son being cursed to eternal damnation, or being staked through his chest by a Van Helsening is a rather harsh pill to swallow.For that reason, Eddie tries and deny that Edward is a vampire—he’s ‘just stuck’ is how he phrased it to his mother when she asked about Edward. A side effect of the flu that killed us all, he’s just stuck.

I wait for Eddie’s next little statement knowing that he is about to make a series of statements that are going to leave me with a flaring temper.

“And she’s married to him—“

“Judging by my wedding ring on her special finger, I sure hope that they’re married,” I say with a crooked smile. “After all, we always wanted Edward to find that special someone. We should be happy. Aren't you excited now he didn't marry that Chipman girl you had wanted him too...”

“You’re wedding ring?” Eddie snaps, ignoring my last remark, “How did she get that?”

“Well, I’m sure Carlise gave Edward our effects before we were buried. Truth be told I’m not that upset about it anymore. It was such a pretty ring and it’d be a shame to bury it in the ground with a dead woman. Isn’t it better that it can see the sunshine of another romance?” I try, using poetic language in hopes of making him crack a smile, be the Darcy that had loved me all those years and throughout the decades.Eddie’s face was back on the two of them, examining the girl’s face.

“She seems normal but how could that be? Is she a vampire too?”

Irritably I answer, “Well Edward Masen, I don’t know. Believe it or not, I haven’t had the opportunity to sit down and welcome the girl to the family seeing as we are both dead. You know how that goes. You know the rules, the dead can only walk with the living for three days marking the anniversery of their deaths. We can see them but they can't see us," I look back at the two, she's now holding his hand as he whispers in her ear probably a good thing they can't see us, Edward would die of embaressment...” “Well, in a way Edward’s dead so techaniclly, he should be able to—“


“He is not dead Eddie!” I snap, looking at Edward who is now playing a peice on the piano that’s unfamilar to me, but very familiar to the girl. “If he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to play the piano, or hold her close—“

“Right, right,” Eddie answers, knowing he has now crossed the line. “Do we know her? Or her family I guess, any of her ancestors from the old crowd?” “

Not from what I know—I don’t even think I’ve heard him say her name...” I sigh, trying to remember their conversations. She’s been called dearest, darling, love, and sweetheart, the same love titles that have been used throughout the ages from Romeo to Casanova to Darcy to Cherry Drive itself , but Edward yets to say her name.

I feel as thought that is the last peice thats blocking me from the puzzle of her idenity, “She looks slightly familiar, doesn’t she?” I ask, staring at her dark brown hair and her almond colored eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve seen her before, but that would make sense seeing how we are dead—“

“Shut up Eddie, if you’re going to be the grim reaper to news, you might as well just go back now,” I complain, hitting his shoulder with my hand lightly.

A smile finally cracks his angelic face, “And leave you to spending the next three days trying to unlock all these secrets, parish the thought.”

“You know how I get in a foul mood when I have to dig through secrets,”I start, leaning my head on his shoulder, our attention no longer focused on the two at the piano bench, trying to unlock the mystery that is my new daughter-in-law.

Eddie unleashes a wicked smile, “Oh I know, but you have a tendency to be rather cute when your angry, how could I miss that?”