The Twilight Saga Collection

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The Twilight Saga Collection Page 134

by Stephenie Meyer


  “Alice got to me.”

  “Is it really time already?” Renée said to herself, sounding almost as nervous as I felt. “This has all gone so fast. I feel dizzy.”

  That made two of us.

  “Give me a hug before I go down,” Renée insisted. “Carefully now, don’t tear anything.”

  My mother squeezed me gently around the waist, then wheeled for the door, only to complete the spin and face me again.

  “Oh goodness, I almost forgot! Charlie, where’s the box?”

  My dad rummaged in his pockets for a minute and then produced a small white box, which he handed to Renée. Renée lifted the lid and held it out to me.

  “Something blue,” she said.

  “Something old, too. They were your Grandma Swan’s,” Charlie added. “We had a jeweler replace the paste stones with sapphires.”

  Inside the box were two heavy silver hair combs. Dark blue sapphires were clustered into intricate floral shapes atop the teeth.

  My throat got all thick. “Mom, Dad… you shouldn’t have.”

  “Alice wouldn’t let us do anything else,” Renée said. “Every time we tried, she all but ripped our throats out.”

  A hysterical giggle burst through my lips.

  Alice stepped up and quickly slid both combs into my hair under the edge of the thick braids. “That’s something old and something blue,” Alice mused, taking a few steps back to admire me. “And your dress is new… so here—”

  She flicked something at me. I held my hands out automatically, and the filmy white garter landed in my palms.

  “That’s mine and I want it back,” Alice told me.

  I blushed.

  “There,” Alice said with satisfaction. “A little color—that’s all you needed. You are officially perfect.” With a little self-congratulatory smile, she turned to my parents. “Renée, you need to get downstairs.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Renée blew me a kiss and hurried out the door.

  “Charlie, would you grab the flowers, please?”

  While Charlie was out of the room, Alice hooked the garter out of my hands and then ducked under my skirt. I gasped and tottered as her cold hand caught my ankle; she yanked the garter into place.

  She was back on her feet before Charlie returned with the two frothy white bouquets. The scent of roses and orange blossom and freesia enveloped me in a soft mist.

  Rosalie—the best musician in the family next to Edward—began playing the piano downstairs. Pachelbel’s Canon. I began hyperventilating.

  “Easy, Bells,” Charlie said. He turned to Alice nervously. “She looks a little sick. Do you think she’s going to make it?”

  His voice sounded far away. I couldn’t feel my legs.

  “She’d better.”

  Alice stood right in front of me, on her tiptoes to better stare me in the eye, and gripped my wrists in her hard hands.

  “Focus, Bella. Edward is waiting for you down there.”

  I took a deep breath, willing myself into composure.

  The music slowly morphed into a new song. Charlie nudged me. “Bells, we’re up to bat.”

  “Bella?” Alice asked, still holding my gaze.

  “Yes,” I squeaked. “Edward. Okay.” I let her pull me from the room, with Charlie tagging along at my elbow.

  The music was louder in the hall. It floated up the stairs along with the fragrance of a million flowers. I concentrated on the idea of Edward waiting below to get my feet to shuffle forward.

  The music was familiar, Wagner’s traditional march surrounded by a flood of embellishments.

  “It’s my turn,” Alice chimed. “Count to five and follow me.” She began a slow, graceful dance down the staircase. I should have realized that having Alice as my only bridesmaid was a mistake. I would look that much more uncoordinated coming behind her.

  A sudden fanfare trilled through the soaring music. I recognized my cue.

  “Don’t let me fall, Dad,” I whispered. Charlie pulled my hand through his arm and then grasped it tightly.

  One step at a time, I told myself as we began to descend to the slow tempo of the march. I didn’t lift my eyes until my feet were safely on the flat ground, though I could hear the murmurs and rustling of the audience as I came into view. Blood flooded my cheeks at the sound; of course I could be counted on to be the blushing bride.

  As soon as my feet were past the treacherous stairs, I was looking for him. For a brief second, I was distracted by the profusion of white blossoms that hung in garlands from everything in the room that wasn’t alive, dripping with long lines of white gossamer ribbons. But I tore my eyes from the bowery canopy and searched across the rows of satin-draped chairs—blushing more deeply as I took in the crowd of faces all focused on me—until I found him at last, standing before an arch overflowing with more flowers, more gossamer.

  I was barely conscious that Carlisle stood by his side, and Angela’s father behind them both. I didn’t see my mother where she must have been sitting in the front row, or my new family, or any of the guests—they would have to wait till later.

  All I really saw was Edward’s face; it filled my vision and overwhelmed my mind. His eyes were a buttery, burning gold; his perfect face was almost severe with the depth of his emotion. And then, as he met my awed gaze, he broke into a breathtaking smile of exultation.

  Suddenly, it was only the pressure of Charlie’s hand on mine that kept me from sprinting headlong down the aisle.

  The march was too slow as I struggled to pace my steps to its rhythm. Mercifully, the aisle was very short. And then, at last, at last, I was there. Edward held out his hand. Charlie took my hand and, in a symbol as old as the world, placed it in Edward’s. I touched the cool miracle of his skin, and I was home.

  Our vows were the simple, traditional words that had been spoken a million times, though never by a couple quite like us. We’d asked Mr. Weber to make only one small change. He obligingly traded the line “till death do us part” for the more appropriate “as long as we both shall live.”

  In that moment, as the minister said his part, my world, which had been upside down for so long now, seemed to settle into its proper position. I saw just how silly I’d been for fearing this—as if it were an unwanted birthday gift or an embarrassing exhibition, like the prom. I looked into Edward’s shining, triumphant eyes and knew that I was winning, too. Because nothing else mattered but that I could stay with him.

  I didn’t realize I was crying until it was time to say the binding words.

  “I do,” I managed to choke out in a nearly unintelligible whisper, blinking my eyes clear so I could see his face.

  When it was his turn to speak, the words rang clear and victorious.

  “I do,” he vowed.

  Mr. Weber declared us husband and wife, and then Edward’s hands reached up to cradle my face, carefully, as if it were as delicate as the white petals swaying above our heads. I tried to comprehend, through the film of tears blinding me, the surreal fact that this amazing person was mine. His golden eyes looked as if they would have tears, too, if such a thing were not impossible. He bent his head toward mine, and I stretched up on the tips of my toes, throwing my arms—bouquet and all—around his neck.

  He kissed me tenderly, adoringly; I forgot the crowd, the place, the time, the reason… only remembering that he loved me, that he wanted me, that I was his.

  He began the kiss, and he had to end it; I clung to him, ignoring the titters and the throat-clearing in the audience. Finally, his hands restrained my face and he pulled back—too soon—to look at me. On the surface his sudden smile was amused, almost a smirk. But underneath his momentary entertainment at my public exhibition was a deep joy that echoed my own.

  The crowd erupted into applause, and he turned our bodies to face our friends and family. I couldn’t look away from his face to see them.

  My mother’s arms were the first to find me, her tear-streaked face the first thing I saw when I finally tore
my eyes unwillingly from Edward. And then I was handed through the crowd, passed from embrace to embrace, only vaguely aware of who held me, my attention centered on Edward’s hand clutched tightly in my own. I did recognize the difference between the soft, warm hugs of my human friends and the gentle, cool embraces of my new family.

  One scorching hug stood out from all the others—Seth Clearwater had braved the throng of vampires to stand in for my lost werewolf friend.

  4. GESTURE

  The wedding flowed into the reception party smoothly—proof of Alice’s flawless planning. It was just twilight over the river; the ceremony had lasted exactly the right amount of time, allowing the sun to set behind the trees. The lights in the trees glimmered as Edward led me through the glass back doors, making the white flowers glow. There were another ten thousand flowers out here, serving as a fragrant, airy tent over the dance floor set up on the grass under two of the ancient cedars.

  Things slowed down, relaxed as the mellow August evening surrounded us. The little crowd spread out under the soft shine of the twinkle lights, and we were greeted again by the friends we’d just embraced. There was time to talk now, to laugh.

  “Congrats, guys,” Seth Clearwater told us, ducking his head under the edge of a flower garland. His mother, Sue, was tight by his side, eyeing the guests with wary intensity. Her face was thin and fierce, an expression that was accented by her short, severe hairstyle; it was as short as her daughter Leah’s—I wondered if she’d cut it the same way in a show of solidarity. Billy Black, on Seth’s other side, was not as tense as Sue.

  When I looked at Jacob’s father, I always felt like I was seeing two people rather than just one. There was the old man in the wheelchair with the lined face and the white smile that everyone else saw. And then there was the direct descendant of a long line of powerful, magical chieftains, cloaked in the authority he’d been born with. Though the magic had—in the absence of a catalyst—skipped his generation, Billy was still a part of the power and the legend. It flowed straight through him. It flowed to his son, the heir to the magic, who had turned his back on it. That left Sam Uley to act as the chief of legends and magic now. . . .

  Billy seemed oddly at ease considering the company and the event—his black eyes sparkled like he’d just gotten some good news. I was impressed by his composure. This wedding must have seemed a very bad thing, the worst thing that could happen to his best friend’s daughter, in Billy’s eyes.

  I knew it wasn’t easy for him to restrain his feelings, considering the challenge this event foreshadowed to the ancient treaty between the Cullens and the Quileutes—the treaty that prohibited the Cullens from ever creating another vampire. The wolves knew a breach was coming, but the Cullens had no idea how they would react. Before the alliance, it would have meant an immediate attack. A war. But now that they knew each other better, would there be forgiveness instead?

  As if in response to that thought, Seth leaned toward Edward, arms extended. Edward returned the hug with his free arm.

  I saw Sue shudder delicately.

  “It’s good to see things work out for you, man,” Seth said. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you, Seth. That means a lot to me.” Edward pulled away from Seth and looked at Sue and Billy. “Thank you, as well. For letting Seth come. For supporting Bella today.”

  “You’re welcome,” Billy said in his deep, gravelly voice, and I was surprised at the optimism in his tone. Perhaps a stronger truce was on the horizon.

  A bit of a line was forming, so Seth waved goodbye and wheeled Billy toward the food. Sue kept one hand on each of them.

  Angela and Ben were the next to claim us, followed by Angela’s parents and then Mike and Jessica—who were, to my surprise, holding hands. I hadn’t heard that they were together again. That was nice.

  Behind my human friends were my new cousins-in-law, the Denali vampire clan. I realized I was holding my breath as the vampire in front—Tanya, I assumed from the strawberry tint in her blond curls—reached out to embrace Edward. Next to her, three other vampires with golden eyes stared at me with open curiosity. One woman had long, pale blond hair, straight as corn silk. The other woman and the man beside her were both black-haired, with a hint of an olive tone to their chalky complexions.

  And they were all four so beautiful that it made my stomach hurt.

  Tanya was still holding Edward.

  “Ah, Edward,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”

  Edward chuckled and deftly maneuvered out of the hug, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder and stepping back, as if to get a better look at her. “It’s been too long, Tanya. You look well.”

  “So do you.”

  “Let me introduce you to my wife.” It was the first time Edward had said that word since it was officially true; he seemed like he would explode with satisfaction saying it now. The Denalis all laughed lightly in response. “Tanya, this is my Bella.”

  Tanya was every bit as lovely as my worst nightmares had predicted. She eyed me with a look that was much more speculative than it was resigned, and then reached out to take my hand.

  “Welcome to the family, Bella.” She smiled, a little rueful. “We consider ourselves Carlisle’s extended family, and I am sorry about the, er, recent incident when we did not behave as such. We should have met you sooner. Can you forgive us?”

  “Of course,” I said breathlessly. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “The Cullens are all evened up in numbers now. Perhaps it will be our turn next, eh, Kate?” She grinned at the blonde.

  “Keep the dream alive,” Kate said with a roll of her golden eyes. She took my hand from Tanya’s and squeezed it gently. “Welcome, Bella.”

  The dark-haired woman put her hand on top of Kate’s. “I’m Carmen, this is Eleazar. We’re all so very pleased to finally meet you.”

  “M-me, too,” I stuttered.

  Tanya glanced at the people waiting behind her—Charlie’s deputy, Mark, and his wife. Their eyes were huge as they took in the Denali clan.

  “We’ll get to know each other later. We’ll have eons of time for that!” Tanya laughed as she and her family moved on.

  All the standard traditions were kept. I was blinded by flashbulbs as we held the knife over a spectacular cake—too grand, I thought, for our relatively intimate group of friends and family. We took turns shoving cake in each other’s faces; Edward manfully swallowed his portion as I watched in disbelief. I threw my bouquet with atypical skill, right into Angela’s surprised hands. Emmett and Jasper howled with laughter at my blush while Edward removed my borrowed garter—which I’d shimmied down nearly to my ankle—very carefully with his teeth. With a quick wink at me, he shot it straight into Mike Newton’s face.

  And when the music started, Edward pulled me into his arms for the customary first dance; I went willingly, despite my fear of dancing—especially dancing in front of an audience—just happy to have him holding me. He did all the work, and I twirled effortlessly under the glow of a canopy of lights and the bright flashes from the cameras.

  “Enjoying the party, Mrs. Cullen?” he whispered in my ear.

  I laughed. “That will take a while to get used to.”

  “We have a while,” he reminded me, his voice exultant, and he leaned down to kiss me while we danced. Cameras clicked feverishly.

  The music changed, and Charlie tapped on Edward’s shoulder.

  It wasn’t nearly as easy to dance with Charlie. He was no better at it than I was, so we moved safely from side to side in a tiny square formation. Edward and Esme spun around us like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

  “I’m going to miss you at home, Bella. I’m already lonely.”

  I spoke through a tight throat, trying to make a joke of it. “I feel just horrible, leaving you to cook for yourself—it’s practically criminal negligence. You could arrest me.”

  He grinned. “I suppose I’ll survive the food. Just call me whenever you can.”

  �
��I promise.”

  It seemed like I danced with everyone. It was good to see all my old friends, but I really wanted to be with Edward more than anything else. I was happy when he finally cut in, just half a minute after a new dance started.

  “Still not that fond of Mike, eh?” I commented as Edward whirled me away from him.

  “Not when I have to listen to his thoughts. He’s lucky I didn’t kick him out. Or worse.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Have you had a chance to look at yourself?”

  “Um. No, I guess not. Why?”

  “Then I suppose you don’t realize how utterly, heart-breakingly beautiful you are tonight. I’m not surprised Mike’s having difficulty with improper thoughts about a married woman. I am disappointed that Alice didn’t make sure you were forced to look in a mirror.”

  “You are very biased, you know.”

  He sighed and then paused and turned me around to face the house. The wall of glass reflected the party back like a long mirror. Edward pointed to the couple in the mirror directly across from us.

  “Biased, am I?”

  I caught just a glimpse of Edward’s reflection—a perfect duplicate of his perfect face—with a dark-haired beauty at his side. Her skin was cream and roses, her eyes were huge with excitement and framed with thick lashes. The narrow sheath of the shimmering white dress flared out subtly at the train almost like an inverted calla lily, cut so skillfully that her body looked elegant and graceful—while it was motionless, at least.

  Before I could blink and make the beauty turn back into me, Edward suddenly stiffened and turned automatically in the other direction, as if someone had called his name.

  “Oh!” he said. His brow furrowed for an instant and then smoothed out just as quickly.

  Suddenly, he was smiling a brilliant smile.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A surprise wedding gift.”

  “Huh?”

  He didn’t answer; he just started dancing again, spinning me the opposite way we’d been headed before, away from the lights and then into the deep swath of night that ringed the luminous dance floor.

 

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