"That's all?" he finally asked.
I blinked. "Isn't that enough?"
"It's not that you were . . . more eager for immortality itself than for just me?"
And then, though I'd predicted that he would laugh, I was suddenly the one having hysterics.
"Edward!" I gasped out between the paroxysms of giggles. "And here . . . I always . . . thought that . . . you were . . . so much . . . smarter than me!"
He took me in his arms, and I could feel that he was laughing with me.
"Edward," I said, managing to speak more clearly with a little effort, "there's no point to forever without you. I wouldn't want one day without you."
"Well, that's a relief," he said.
"Still . . . it doesn't change anything."
"It's nice to understand, though. And I do understand your perspective, Bella, truly I do. But I'd like it very much if you'd try to consider mine."
I'd sobered up by then, so I nodded and struggled to keep the frown off my face.
His liquid gold eyes turned hypnotic as they held mine.
"You see, Bella, I was always that boy. In my world, I was already a man. I wasn't looking for love - no, I was far too eager to be a soldier for that; I thought of nothing but the idealized glory of the war that they were selling prospective draftees then - but if I had found . . ." He paused, cocking his head to the side. "I was going to say if I had found someone, but that won't do. If I had found you, there isn't a doubt in my mind how I would have proceeded. I was that boy, who would have - as soon as I discovered that you were what I was looking for - gotten down on one knee and endeavored to secure your hand. I would have wanted you for eternity, even when the word didn't have quite the same connotations."
He smiled his crooked smile at me.
I stared at him with my eyes frozen wide.
"Breathe, Bella," he reminded me, smiling.
I breathed.
"Can you see my side, Bella, even a little bit?"
And for one second, I could. I saw myself in a long skirt and a high-necked lace blouse with my hair piled up on my head. I saw Edward looking dashing in a light suit with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, sitting beside me on a porch swing.
I shook my head and swallowed. I was just having Anne of Green Gables flashbacks.
"The thing is, Edward," I said in a shaky voice, avoiding the question, "in my mind, marriage and eternity are not mutually exclusive or mutually inclusive concepts. And since we're living in my world for the moment, maybe we should go with the times, if you know what I mean."
"But on the other hand," he countered, "you will soon be leaving time behind you altogether. So why should the transitory customs of one local culture affect the decision so much?"
I pursed my lips. "When in Rome?"
He laughed at me. "You don't have to say yes or no today, Bella. It's good to understand both sides, though, don't you think?"
"So your condition . . . ?"
"Is still in effect. I do see your point, Bella, but if you want me to change you myself. . . ."
"Dum, dum, dah-dum," I hummed under my breath. I was going for the wedding march, but it sort of sounded like a dirge.
Time continued to move too fast.
That night flew by dreamlessly, and then it was morning and graduation was staring me in the face. I had a pile of studying to do for my finals that I knew I wouldn't get halfway through in the few days I had left.
When I came down for breakfast, Charlie was already gone. He'd left the paper on the table, and that reminded me that I had some shopping to do. I hoped the ad for the concert was still running; I needed the phone number to get the stupid tickets. It didn't seem like much of a gift now that all the surprise was gone. Of course, trying to surprise Alice wasn't the brightest plan to begin with.
I meant to flip right back to the entertainment section, but the thick black headline caught my attention. I felt a thrill of fear as I leaned closer to read the front-page story.
SEATTLE TERRORIZED BY SLAYINGS
It's been less than a decade since the city of Seattle was the hunting ground for the most prolific serial killer in U.S. history. Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer, was convicted of the murders of 48 women.
And now a beleaguered Seattle must face the possibility that it could be harboring an even more horrifying monster at this very moment.
The police are not calling the recent rash of homicides and disappearances the work of a serial killer. Not yet, at least. They are reluctant to believe so much carnage could be the work of one individual. This killer - if, in fact, it is one person - would then be responsible for 39 linked homicides and disappearances within the last three months alone. In comparison, Ridgway's 48- count murder spree was scattered over a 21-year period. If these deaths can be linked to one man, then this is the most violent rampage of serial murder in American history.
The police are leaning instead toward the theory that gang activity is involved. This theory is supported by the sheer number of victims, and by the fact that there seems to be no pattern in the choice of victims.
From Jack the Ripper to Ted Bundy, the targets of serial killings are usually connected by similarities in age, gender, race, or a combination of the three. The victims of this crime wave range in age from 15-year-old honor student Amanda Reed, to 67-year-old retired postman Omar Jenks. The linked deaths include a nearly even 18 women and 21 men. The victims are racially diverse: Caucasians, African Americans, Hispanics and Asians.
The selection appears random. The motive seems to be killing for no other reason than to kill.
So why even consider the idea of a serial killer?