Idyllic Days (Esme - Carlisle Fanfiction)

Chapter 42 -The Nursery-

Then there was a knock on the door. Carlisle sighed but went to open it. There stood Alice with one of her Cheshire cat grins. “We’d like to show you Carlie’s nursery,” she announced. I smiled at her and softly shifted Carlie’s position in my arms so that I could sit upright. “Okay, I’ll just refresh a bit,” I told her. “Do you need help?” she asked. “No, it is fine,” I told her. “Okay,” she smiled and closed the door behind her. I handed our daughter to her father and took a shower and got ready. It really felt good to clean up. “Okay, ready, “I announced to Carlisle who was walking up and down in the room to rock her. He handed her back to me and we left the room closely together to get to the others, Carlisle always next to me.

“Good morning,” Emmett boomed when he saw us. Carlie was startled and began to wail. I rocked her softly to calm her back down. “Sorry,” he said quieter and walked to our side to look at her. He cooed to her and smiled sweetly. She looked at him and kicked what seemed like to be happily. Rose was at his side a second later and smiled. “Do you want to hold her?” I asked her. “Yes,” she said happily. I handed her to Rose and watched her play with Carlie. Even Jasper cooed to her and stroked her little face. She was already loved by everyone! I cuddled to Carlisle and saw my family cooing and smiling at our little adorable daughter. “Are you ready to see the nursery?” Alice asked after some time. I nodded and Rose handed me Carlie back before we ascended the stairs to the second floor.

Right next to our bedroom was Carlie’s nursery. Alice was in front of us and opened the door. I gasped, it was exactly how I had imagined it to look and it was even more beautiful. The back wall was glass like the one of our bedroom. They were hung with light beige curtains, which were fixated with big beige satin bows. Right in the middle of the room was the crib. It was the one Carlisle and I saw in Venice. Over it hung a mobile with different animals. It was a white wrought iron bed that looked like the front was made of flower tendrils. It was even decorated with light beige bows on the front.

In the back on the left was an antique looking changing table also in white decorated with all the necessary utilities. Over it was a shelf with children’s books and stuffed animals. I looked through the collection and found books my Mom has read to me as a child and also some that looked very old and were in old English. Carlisle stood next to me:” These books I’ve loved as a child. We had many as my father loved reading,” he told me. Carlie fuzzed in my arms but looked content.

On the back corner of the right was a wardrobe fitting to the rest of the furniture. I opened it and it revealed lots and lots of clothes, mostly dresses for Carlie. I smiled; she would probably never wear one thing twice. The front was filled with a white armchair and a beautiful white cradle with a canopy.

Just then did I see the back wall. On the left side you could see the outlines of London abstractly drawn with only a tint of color on the Big Ben and on the right were the outlines of what seemed to be Ohio in my time accompanied by a drawing of the landscape where I had lived. Right in the middle the two lines meet and elegantly formed a small heartshape in the middle. More to the ceiling was written Carlie in an elegant handwriting. It was perfect! It was the exact mixture of mine and Carlisle’s time and we were both represented by the drawing that was just beautiful.

Even the furniture seemed to fit to our times, I highly doubt that these were not antiques, some looked very old, but I loved it. And considering Carlisle’s expression he liked it as well. “Thank you all. It is the perfect nursery,” Carlisle said and hugged everyone.

I nodded and smiled at them. They talked amongst each other and I was rocking Carlie. But she didn’t want to sleep; she was only fixated on my face and every time I looked at her she moved around wildly until she settled down.

Carlie's first day!

-All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer-