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He retired to his study and, closing the door behind himself, sat down in the familiar leather chair. Below he could hear them welcoming her back as their mother, asking questions about her island, wondering if he enjoyed it as much as they suspected he would. He thought of the two weeks as a flurry of love-making and reading and chess and swimming and debates of philosophy. There was a sizeable pile of correspondence waiting and he knew he should begin in earnest, yet he felt boneless, relaxed, panic-free. It was as alien to him as any of the panic that gripped him regularly. He let it wash over him and, leaning back in the chair, closed his eyes to listen to his family below.

He was enjoying their questions, but in his shyness, had felt it necessary to ground himself in his study for 10 minutes before re-entering their frenetic conversations. As quick-witted as they all were, their jumping discussions left him feeling overwhelmed at times. He had been so used to silence for two weeks that the sudden noise was too intense.

A knock on the door though, followed by Edward's entrance, broke that gathering of spirit. He smiled at the boy, delighted to see him nonetheless.

"She loved it," he simply stated, "But more than that, so did you Carlisle. You're different. You are freer."

Carlisle considered his observation, "I cannot argue. You know my mind better than me. Yes, I have to admit though, it felt very good."

"You didn't want to come home, did you?"

Edward was not worried as he asked this, and he had heard it anyway, so Carlisle's momentary guilt was extinguished as he looked at his son's curiously happy face.

"I know what it is," his son perched on the edge of the desk, "For the first time you were alone with her, truly. I realised it when you left – the reason you were so worried. I understand you were alone when I left, all those years ago, but your third party after that was anguish. There was no time for your marriage because you were both so consumed by my absence. She was never fully there with you, nor you with her. And the other vacations have always had a pretext; family holiday, museum trip, something like that. Even your honeymoon you were anxious, both of you, to get home to me. So for this first time ever you were actually alone. But it wasn't about the lack of conversation or things being strange, was it? It was about you. I don't understand that."

He nodded, reluctant to divulge anything as to the nature of the fear. It was embarrassing and personal, so he kept his thoughts deliberately vague. He tried to close the doors of his mind, as he had practised, and it worked well as he saw Edward's face darken a little.

"Oh," Edward nodded, "I can see you don't want me to know. I'm not desperate to know honestly. I just wish I had saw it before. We could have cleared out, given you some..."

He trailed off as Carlisle help up his hand, "Let me stop you there Edward. Our family is our life. My panics, worries, idiosyncrasies are my own. At times I need - as you so calmly observe – to relax. I relaxed, I believe, for the first time in all my existence. I felt," he smiled at the irony, "Oddly human."

His son nodded, rewarding him with a wide smile, "And you weren't going to buy it!"

"Well I am man enough to acknowledge the foolishness of the whole reluctance," he stood up and clapped his arm around Edward's neck, "Shall we go down and engage your siblings in a bit of verbal sparring. I have so missed the sound of bickering."

"Do you know Esme actually thinks it's called Isle Esme," Edward shared conspiratorially.

He simply shrugged, "It is. I liked your name, so I had it changed. It was expensive but..."

"She's worth it?" Edward finished for him, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

He watched Edward as he watched the woman he had taken to his heart as his mother. He understood entirely why; she was a brilliant mother.

She smiled at him then her eyes alighted on Carlisle. He thought of shattered marble and golden sand and golden eyes. His mind recalled the tinkling of her laugh and her giggles of joy as the waves jumped over her calves.

He thanked God for her every day. He thanked God she made him human; with all his weaknesses and strengths.

"Oh yes, yes she is."

His son laughed loudly, the noise mingling with the rest of the shouts of joy and the questions and the booming noise of Emmett tapping his foot to the wireless.

Golden sand and waves. A washing line and white laundry.

He had once thought, lying in the cellar as poison burned his veins, that he would never know love. How glorious it was, he thought, to have been proven wrong time and time again.