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“No, Carlisle. In total we have redistributed way more to the abortion cause than we have redistributed to the indigenous cause,” I heard Alice’s voice from Carlisle office. “It’s time to prioritize indiginous people.”
“I agree, but the current situation within the abortion debate is very critical,” Carlisle answered. “The organizations working with it need more money right now.”
I looked at Edward. He was reading Love Your Enemy? from 1981, out of curiosity of what had brought me to the conclusion to start identifying with political lesbianism last summer. He looked very concentrated, quickly flipping through the worn pages. There were only 68 of them and he would be done soon.
“Edward,” I said. “What are Carlisle and Alice doing?”
“They’re doing their monthly Robin Hood thing,” he said, but didn’t take his eyes off the text. “This is such an interesting discussion, I can’t believe I missed this part of the internal WLM debate. It never came up at the lectures Alice and I went to.”
“What do you mean ‘Robin Hood’?” I asked.
“I like the opposing side’s take on this,” he said. “But I’m assuming there must be some convincing argument for political lesbianism later on since you decided to practice it.”
“Honestly, I was just tired of the boys at my high school that were making fun of me,” I mumbled.
I left the room and walked across the wide corridor. Esme had told me that the wooden floor had been in a very bad condition and was difficult to restore. Rosalie’s sharp heels and the remaining children’s recklessness hadn’t made it easier to keep in a good condition, she claimed.
“I’m so happy you’re here now,” she had told me. “You’re by far the sanest addition that this family has seen.”
I opened the door to the office slightly, peaking into the room. Carlisle sat in the chair behind his desk and Alice stood hovered over his laptop. They were politely arguing over what cause was more deserving of a redistribution. Both of their faces were lit up by the blue computer screen. The tint of color made the paleness of their skin look even more unnatural. I looked down on my own white hands.
“Bella!” Alice said and a smile washed away the very serious look on her face. “Come on in!”
I felt shy when I slipped into the office. Carlisle had a hesitant look on his face, but smiled at me when I entered the room.
I had only been in Carlisle’s office twice before. The dark, gloomy room was the complete opposite to the rest of the light and open house. The windows were covered with heavy drapes and all the furniture were made out of dark wood. On one of the walls hung a big painting, and I recognized Carlisle in the image, wearing historical clothing and standing next to three pale men. The ghost of a 17th century Carlisle made himself known throughout the room.
“I don’t want to intrude, but Edward wouldn’t tell me what you are doing,” I said. “I overheard you and it sounded interesting.”
“What do you think is more important, Bella,” Alice asked. “Abortion rights or indigenous people’s rights?”
“Alice,” Carlisle sighed. “You can’t put it like that. That is absolutely not at all what we are discussing.”
“Why are you discussing abortion and the right’s of indigenous people?” I asked.
“Alice is great at buying and selling stock,” Carlisle explained. “We don’t need all that money. A lot of people get very rich off the stock market without contributing to society or the welfare of other people. We’re making sure that the wealth is redistributed by donating to where it’s needed, be it organizations, political campaigns or individuals. We have a few foundations we’ve been working through for many years now.”
“So you’re taking from the rich and giving to the poor?” I asked.
“Precisely,” Alice said. “After all, it’s my responsibility to use my ability to do some good.”
“They’re communists.”
I turned around. Rosalie stood leaned with one shoulder against the door frame, with a bored look on her face. She looked so elegant with blond locks hanging around her face and a silky lavender robe falling gracefully around the curves of her body. I had always thought she looked like she had been taken directly out of an old Hollywood film, and today was no exception. She rolled her eyes at me when I met her gaze. She hadn’t really come around to like me very much yet. Alice refused to answer when I asked if that would ever change.
“It’s more of a classical social democratic approach, really,” Carlisle said. “An extra taxation of the rich.”
“It’s stealing,” Rosalie said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I don’t mind,” Alice said. “They deserve it.”
“Communist,” Rosalie whispered under her breath, knowing full well all of us were able to hear her.
Alice smiled at her with a playful look on her face. “I really don’t mind, Rosalie,” she said.
Rosalie’s stern face lightened slightly. She bit down on her full lower lip in an attempt of holding back the beginning of a smile.
“If there’s a certain cause you would like to give to this month, we can do that,” Carlisle said.
Rosalie’s eyes fell to the floor. She was quiet for a few seconds before she spoke.
“Sexual abuse,” she said before she left the doorway and disappeared.
“Right, go ahead and forget all about indigenous people,” Alice said. “The people whose land you stole!”
Carlisle sighed and looked up at her.
“Alice, you know how important this is to Rosalie.” He paused for a second before he continued. “We can do both, there’s enough money. You’re right, we have been very active when it comes to organizations working for sexual and reproductive health. They can wait another month.”
Alice hugged his shoulders and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks dad.”
Fast footsteps against the floor of the corridor came in our direction. This time it was Edward who showed up in the doorway, waving my copy of Love Your Enemy? in his hand.
“Alice, you’ve got to read this!” he said, sounding all worked up with excitement. Then, he stopped, falling silent for a second and furrowed his eyebrows. “Just promise you won’t leave me after you’re done reading it.”