Esme started toward us. Emmett followed after a long look at Rosalie's backside; Rosalie had risen gracefully and strode off toward the field without a glance in our direction. My stomach quivered uneasily in response.
"Was that you we heard, Fredward?" Esme asked as she approached.
"It sounded like a bear choking," Emmett clarified.
I smiled hesitantly at Esme. "That was him."
"Bella was being unintentionally funny," Fredward explained, quickly settling the score.
Alice left her position and was running—or dancing—toward us. She curtsied to a fluid stop at out feet. "It's tiiiiiiiime," she sang.
As soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond us and lightning crashed westward toward town.
"Eerie, isn't it?" Emmett said with easy familiarity, winking at me.
"Totally," I said noncommittally. Was he flirting? In front of my Fredward?
"Let's go." Alice reached for Emmett's hand and they danced toward the field, Alice prancing like a gazelle. Emmett was nearly as graceful and just as fast— yet he could never be compared to a gazelle. He was just too brawny. He was just too big.
"Are you ready for some airplanes?" Fredward asked, his eyes eager, bright.
I tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic. "Let 'er rip!"
He snickered and, after mussing my hair, bounded off after the other two. His dance was more aggressive, a cheetah rather than a gazelle, and he quickly overtook them. "Beep beep!" He cried. The grace and power took my breath away.
"Shall we go down?" Esme asked in her soft, melodic

368

Chapter 17

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