JК
Twilight :: Meyer Stephenie
Страница: 198 из 265"Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways. I never could get over my mothering instincts — did Edward tell you I had lost a child?"
"No," I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was remembering.
"Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born, the poor tiny thing," she sighed.
"It broke my heart — that's why I jumped off the cliff, you know," she added matter-of-factly.
"Edward just said you f-fell," I stammered.
"Always the gentleman." She smiled. "Edward was the first of my new sons. I've always thought of him that way, even though he's older than I, in one way at least." She smiled at me warmly. "That's why I'm so happy that he's found you, dear." The endearment sounded very natural on her lips. "He's been the odd man out for far too long; it's hurt me to see him alone."
"You don't mind, then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm… all wrong for him?"
"No." She was thoughtful. "You're what he wants. It will work out, somehow," she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal of thunder began.
Esme stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Edward was far out in left field, Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.
Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably through the air. I waited for him to approach home plate, but then I realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there — farther from the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible. Jasper stood several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.
"All right," Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would hear, as far out as he was. "Batter up."
Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand flicked out and the ball smacked into Jasper's hand.
"Was that a strike?" I whispered to Esme.
"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.
Jasper hurled the ball back to Alice's waiting hand. She permitted herself a brief grin. And then her hand spun out again.
This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball.
"No," I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime she was remembering.
"Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born, the poor tiny thing," she sighed.
"It broke my heart — that's why I jumped off the cliff, you know," she added matter-of-factly.
"Edward just said you f-fell," I stammered.
"Always the gentleman." She smiled. "Edward was the first of my new sons. I've always thought of him that way, even though he's older than I, in one way at least." She smiled at me warmly. "That's why I'm so happy that he's found you, dear." The endearment sounded very natural on her lips. "He's been the odd man out for far too long; it's hurt me to see him alone."
"You don't mind, then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm… all wrong for him?"
"No." She was thoughtful. "You're what he wants. It will work out, somehow," she said, though her forehead creased with worry. Another peal of thunder began.
Esme stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Edward was far out in left field, Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.
Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably through the air. I waited for him to approach home plate, but then I realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there — farther from the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible. Jasper stood several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.
"All right," Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would hear, as far out as he was. "Batter up."
Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand flicked out and the ball smacked into Jasper's hand.
"Was that a strike?" I whispered to Esme.
"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.
Jasper hurled the ball back to Alice's waiting hand. She permitted herself a brief grin. And then her hand spun out again.
This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball.