A/N: This fic. was written PRIOR to Breaking Dawn. You may ask yourself…What is the author psychic? To that the answer is no, but I am very, very good. Jk. So anything in the fourth book MAY be disregarded, though I'll try to make it seem cannon. Someone asked me if this was the first Rachel/Paul fic. and to that my answer is I don't know. But that is pretty cool, huh? Anyway thanks to everyone. I hope you enjoy this story.
I couldn't believe I was right back where I started. I'd wanted to get away from this town. I worked my ass off my entire high school career to get a scholarship to a college in California and now I'm back in La Push.
I tried to remember any fond memories in this town and…I came up with none. Not once had I ever really truly felt connected here. The deep rooted feelings my father felt did not pass on to Rebecca and I. Hence, she was in Hawaii with her dreamy husband.
This little stunt Jacob pulled was something that I would not expect from him. From Rebecca? Yes. Poor Jacob really must have been torn up about this Bella. Apparently I knew her, but my memory of her was kind of vague. Well, Jacob normally wasn't so impulsive… was he? No, that wasn't my Jacob that I knew. He was a happy smiling kid who loved life. Why did he run away? Dad's explanation didn't seem to cover all the questions I asked him. In fact, most of the reasons my Dad stated was that 'he was a teenage boy'.
I waved the cab off and walked up to open the creaking front door.
"Daddy?" I yelled into the small house. I walked into the all-too-familiar kitchen. My fingers immediately found the tile counters. So many memories, I thought I'd locked them away for good when I packed up and left here more than two years ago.
I didn't realize just how long two years really was. Back then I was frantically cleaning the house and planning a much too soon wedding and now I was here to take care of another family member. If I didn't step up to the plate, then no one would.
I stopped in the small hallway leading to my father's room to look at our last full family photo hanging on the wall. My father was still standing at the time, though just barely, holding a young Jacob down long enough to take the photo. My mother stood beside him with her hand on Rebecca's shoulder and I was sitting right in between my siblings. Neither parents were touching me, but that didn't matter because I knew they loved me. I was the good child, the dependable child.
I sigh. I missed my mother. She was taken from us too soon. She was needed desperately.
"Dad?" I open the door and see him sitting up trying to get himself into his wheelchair. "Oh Dad, let me help you. Don't push yourself!" I scrambled over to him to move the chair closer, but he waved me away. When he'd finally gotten safely into the chair, after I was almost sure he would fall, he turned to me huffing and puffing.
"I've been doing it by myself for years, Rachel. I don't need help now." My father told me this good-naturedly, but I was still a bit miffed at this reaction. He'd called me home to help and now I couldn't? Which one was it? He couldn't have it both ways?
"Listen, I'll go make you some dinner. Are you hungry?"
"Don't worry, there's nothing in the pantry to cook anyway. I'll call out for a pizza." My father rolled past me to grab the cordless phone and he dialed the number by heart. I was shocked. He told me he'd been eating healthy and everything!
"Dad!" I whispered loudly as he waited for someone on the other end of the line to pick up and take his order. "How many times have you ordered out?"
He just shrugged his shoulders. "Ah yes, Nick? Yep, it's me Billy Black. Yep, the usual. Sure, sure, whenever you have a spare moment, oh and add some cheese sticks. Thanks Nick." My father clicked the phone off and then looked towards me. I noticed his face had aged years.
I'm not talking about it looked older because I'd been gone; he looked sick and haggard; he truly looked like he might not make whatever lay ahead for the Black family.
"You told me you'd been eating lots of starches and vegetables." I scolded him like a bad kid. I folded my arms over my chest and stared down at my annoyed looking father.
"Don't start that crap now, Rach. You know how much your mother nagged me all the time."
"I know, but she was right." I broke and bent down to my father's face level. "Just try for me. This is the last supper for you. Tomorrow, you're going to be eating like you should."
"Yes, Ma'am." My father chuckled hoarsely. "I've missed you, kid." He wrapped his frail arms around my waist. I leaned into his familiar embrace over his lap. How many times had I run head-long into his arms as he flung me around so easily? Not anymore, I couldn't even remember the last time he'd been able to pick me up. This illness had really taken a toll not just on him, but all of us.
The memories kept pouring into my head. Different things triggering different emotions in me, like his old tobacco smell. I remembered how he would chew it constantly annoying the hell out of my mother. He'd finally quit, but I was almost positive he snuck a little every now and then because he always had that smell. It was forever imprinted on his clothes.
I picked myself up and put my hands on my hips to take a good look around for the first time. "My God, this place is filthy!" I exclaim with wide eyes and look at my Dad. Well, at least he had the grace to look sheepish.
"It's been a rough two years."
"I know. I can hear the poor floors screaming for a good scrub down."
"Rachel," My father admonished.
"Shh! Listen… can you hear?" I leaned close with my hand cupped over my ears. "Waaash me…" I said in a high pitched voice.
"I get the picture. Jake and I just haven't found the time." My father told me honestly and at the mention of Jake's name we both froze. I could tell the wound of his departure was still fresh and he didn't want to talk about it. Well good, I didn't want to hear about it. I wouldn't get any details anyway.
What he did was stupid and irresponsible. Did he even think about how anyone else would suffer without him? Did he pause for one moment and wonder how much his actions had an impact on everyone around him? No, and for that he was definitely going to get an earful. I would never have pinpointed Jacob as the rogue teenage type, but I guess puberty does that to some people.
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It took me a good two days to clean everything. That's really saying a lot because it wasn't like the house was that big. The kitchen was definitely by far the cleanest room and it didn't win by much. The living room was bearable to clean, as was my father's room, but when I got to the bathrooms I had to plug my nose and squint my eyes so I didn't see everything. I didn't want to. There was mold in between the grains of the tiles, there were foreign marks along the walls and tubs that I didn't want to know how they got there, toothpaste was smeared everywhere, products were strewn along the floor half open, and the toilets were just plain disgusting. This is what happens when two men are forced to live together.
Jacob's room wasn't all that bad, but when I started digging I found, well things I didn't want to. I should have expected certain objects, because he is a boy, but I didn't want to picture
my poor innocent sixteen year old brother, in a fourteen year old body because that's the way I remembered him, as a dirty minded teenager.
I ended up just leaving everything there and walking out. When he got home, whenever that was, he could clean it up himself. As punishment.
I managed to do a bit of grocery shopping with seeing as little of my past as possible. It was inevitable though that I would meet up with a few people. I actually saw one of my old friends from my class at the store, he was the manager. It was kind of awkward because it felt like we didn't have anything in common anymore, just the past.
That wasn't a whole lot of foundation to begin with either. Honestly, the only reason I was friends with half the people I was friends with was because of convenience. We'd just been together for so long, thrown together because our parents happened to choose the same small town to live in.
We were friends because of proximity and when that ended because I moved away, so did our friendships. There was probably only one person I truly missed and that was Rebecca. She wasn't even here though, so that's not saying much to anyone's credit.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate La Push. It would always be my home, the place where I grew up, but it wasn't the place I wanted to live. I didn't want to get stuck in this small town. That was my goal in life, but sometimes that doesn't always work out. I decided to transfer in my junior year of college to help out my Dad. Circumstances just change, as do priorities. I was Rachel Black, the responsible college girl who had a part time job and big shoes to fill as the mother of my family. That was who I was and I couldn't escape that no matter how hard I tried or wished or planned or hoped.
This was my life and maybe I could be ok with that.
"This place looks new!" My Dad commented as he wheeled into the living room. I'd rearranged the furniture and everything to try to give him more space to maneuver his wheel chair.
"I try," I told him a little worn out, but he simply beamed at me. That little praise was enough for the hell I had to go through to get everything in order.
We sat down for dinner that night and I'd cooked Dad a stir fry with all the new green vegetables I'd bought for the house. He didn't look too pleased; in fact he didn't eat much of anything. He sort of just pushed it around and he thought I wouldn't notice.
"So what's been, uh, going on around here?" I tried to start up a good conversation. Dad normally loved to be a chatty Kathy. He adored gossip going around the tribe and he loved being the one to fix dilemmas. So I guess you understand my concern when he simply ignored my question. "Dad?"
"Rachel, it's been a real mess around here." He finally managed to strangle out after a long pause. I looked at him in confusion. How much could happen in La Push?
"What's been happening?"
"It's just a mess." Oh, like that explained a lot. I didn't want to push him though so I nodded in understanding.
"Well, I'm sure everything will turn out ok in the end." I stated wisely and ducked my head to continue eating. The table was achingly quiet between my father and I. We weren't really the talkers in the family that was reserved for Jacob and Rebecca.
"Listen, do you think that you could take me over somewhere. I need to talk to Sam Uley, you remember him?" My father said all of the sudden.
"Oh yeah, he graduated with me, right? When do you need to go, now?" My father nodded and wheeled his chair out from under the table. Oh wow, he really meant like now.My cooking wasn't that bad.
"Dad, we need to clean up the kitchen first and you need to finish eating." I demanded. He looked thoroughly put out and I saw a little resemblance to Jacob in that face. It was the face he'd make to my mom when he knew he'd been bad.
"Aw lighten up."
"We'll go when we're done with all the chores."
"Are you the kid or am I?" Dad chuckled and I just rolled my eyes at him. I earned a huge grin from him. He really was just a big kid. He'd always been that's why he needed my mother around.
We cleaned up, I grabbed the keys to our new car (I found out we didn't have the truck anymore), and we were off to Sam Uley's house. It turns out a lot can happen in two years and I that shouldn't open my big stupid mouth ever again.