A/N: I don't own this. We all know who does. What I do own is a pair of flip flops that I got for half price at Target. They're awesome flip flops, too. I know 'cause I bought almost the exact same pair two years ago and they've lasted two years. I wear them every day. My toes would get cold if I ever moved someplace where there was snow. I need flip flops... :)
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It was just after six when I got off work. I'd asked to stay later, practically begging Rose's dad, but he kept talking about frostbite and workman's comp, and that he couldn't afford to lose me if I had to get any fingers amputated because I'd scooped too many ice cream cones. I think he just wanted me gone before the Forks Women's Book Club let out of their afternoon meeting. Every Mary Jane, Mary Francis, Mary Louise, and Mary Jo in town would be parading by the front windows of the ice cream shop, and I knew all too well how worked up that got Mr. Hale. All those short skirts, tight tops, and hair-do's high enough to meet Jesus would no doubt mean Rose would be crashing at my house tonight.
My old red truck was noisy and could be heard from blocks away. I didn't care – at least I had something to drive and I didn't have to walk all over town. My dad had promised me a newer car if I enrolled in the community college in Port Angeles, but my mom didn't see the need. Why would I want to take college classes if I was just going to get married, have a bunch of babies, and clean my house for the rest of my life?
My mom wasn't all bad. She was a little off her rocker, but honestly, living in Forks did that to people. Not to mention the chemicals and fragrances that had most likely soaked into her skin from all of her Mary Kay products. I said she was obsessed. She called it enthusiastic appreciation. Whatever, same thing.
I pulled my truck in the dirt next to the driveway and shut it off, making sure to roll up the windows so it would stay dry inside. There weren't many clouds out, but that could change in a matter of minutes. My mother's Smokey Platinum Chevy Malibu sat inside the open garage. I knew the exact color and model of the car because I'd heard her talk about it every day for almost two years straight. She was finally high enough in sales that she qualified for her first Mary Kay car, and she didn't intend to stop there. She had plans, goals, dreams. They included at least one Pink Cadillac before she died.
"Mary Bella!" I heard my mom yell from the side of the house. I cringed. My name was not Mary Bella, but for some reason my mother could never seem to remember that. Her forgetfulness got especially bad when new shipments of Mary Kay products came in.
"Yeah?" I replied, pausing before hurrying toward the house.
"Honey, come here and help me. I've got all these boxes to sort through. I need to get them inside before the rain starts."
Glancing back up at the sky I counted about a dozen small, airy, cottony clouds. Nothing close to rain. Yeah, she was crazy.
"Mary Bella, what did you do to your hair?" she nearly screeched when she saw me.
"Nothing."
"Is that red in it?" she asked.
"No, Mom, it's pink. Remember? I ordered that new pink hair dye. It finally came in yesterday."
"Why didn't I see it? Was there anything else? Baby, you know I'll lose credits if I start missing items on orders," she chastised me. "I can't afford to lose points, especially not if I'm going to qualify for the Silver Toyota Camry next year."
She didn't give one shit about the fact that I'd lightened my hair to nearly blonde a month earlier. She'd even shown me the pink hair dye when it first showed up in her catalog a few weeks earlier. All she cared about was earning points and leveling up in car status. The Camry was next on the list, then the Equinox, and finally the Pearlized Pink Cadillac. That was better than an Olympic Gold Medal in Forks society. It was even better than having your own reality show. And it was for sure better than knowing who's husband recently divorced Tanya two blocks over was sleeping with this week.
"Well, whatever. Help me carry these in," she said. I knew what was coming next. "It's the least you could do after I was in labor with you for three days. I had to push for five hours, Mary Bella." I mimicked her as I followed her toward the kitchen door. I heard this exact rant every time she needed my help with anything. "If you would have just come sooner I could have signed you birth certificate myself. But no... stubborn just like your father." She continued to ramble about my birth and my personality traits that she found less than appealing. I knew she was just in the Mary Kay Haze she always experienced when new shipments came in, so I tuned her out.
The fact of the matter was she wanted to name me Mary Bella. My father wanted Isabella Marie, after my two grandmothers. I took forever being born, she got tired and fell asleep, my dad filled out the birth certificate application and submitted it. Two months later my official birth certificate came in the mail. Isabella Marie Swan. If she hadn't needed him to chase my one-year-old brother Jasper around the house and keep him from streaking naked through the neighborhood, she probably would have kicked my father out. My dad argued that Marie was close to Mary, but it was no help. My mother felt like a failure – a daughter born in Forks without the name Mary. It was scandalous. It was ridiculous.
Just then her phone rang, playing some annoying folksy song from the late 60's. Probably something she would have heard at Woodstock, if she'd been old enough to go to Woodstock. Or if she was okay with mud and camping.
"Mary Ann Swan, Mary Kay consultant. How can I help you?" she happily chirped into the pink crystal bedazzled phone.
Her name wasn't Mary Ann. It was Renee Angela. At least she half way had the Ann part right. I tuned her out again when she started to squeal about the latest blush and eye-shadow lines. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone slowly rush past the kitchen window. It could only be one person.
Stepping out the back door, I leaned against the wall and shook my head at the sight before me.
"Really?" I said after a few minutes. "She's gonna know."
My father... Charlie Swan, Forks Sheriff, stood against the wall a few feet from me, greedily scarfing down the apple turnovers in his hands. His guilty eyes flicked up to meet mine as he paused, mid-chew.
"Hey, Bells," he mumbled around his mouth full of apple filling and pastry.
"I see you stopped off at Mary Sue's again, huh?"
My father was in love with another woman. Well, he was in love with her baking, anyway. Mary Sue Clearwater. She was happily married to my father's best friend, Harry, but since his doctor made him swear off sweets, my father had become addicted. And that's exactly what he was – an addict looking for his fix.
"I wasn't going to. I swear. I was gonna come straight home and wait for your mother to cook dinner. But then my window was rolled down as I drove past her house, and the scent just filled the squad car. I couldn't stop myself," he said, hanging his head in shame. "I'm weak, Bella. I can't help it. Don't tell your mother, please."
I sighed, noticing the buttons on his shirt. They were barely holding together. They were straining under the pressure his too big belly was putting on them. His pants were going to have to be let out again, too. I wasn't sure police uniforms came in a larger size than what my dad already had. It's not every day that you encounter a three-hundred-pound police office.
"Don't worry. She got a shipment in. She'll probably be consumed for a day or two."
He smiled, then shoved more turnover into his waiting mouth.
"Mary Bella!" my mother called from inside the house.
"Wipe the crumbs off outside, BEFORE you come in the house!" I told my dad, then turned and walked back into the house.
"Yeah?"
"Oh honey, come see what I got!"
My mother sat at the dining table with about 40 tubes of lipstick before her. "Look at this one. Ugh, have you ever seen anything so beautiful? And this one... Oh, it's exquisite. And this one? Kill me now, it's so gorgeous."
Every tube held pink lipstick. All the same shades of pink.
"Mom, they all look the same to me. They're just pink," I told her.
Her annoyed huff ensured me that I only had to endure her for a few more minutes. "Sweetheart, this tube is clearly Petal Pink. Now you look at Passion Pink, and then at Prayerful Pink and tell me you can't see the difference."
I looked. They looked the same. No difference, at all.
"Sorry, Mom. They all look like pink. That's it."
"How are you ever going to take over my empire someday if you can't even tell the difference between lipstick shades? Now I'm going to have to force Mike to give me his mom's spot at the store after you two are married."
My mother, "Mary Ann" Swan and Mary Ellen Newton has been friendly rivals for years when it came to Mary Kay. That all changed when Mary Ellen's husband built her a small Mary Kay kiosk inside his store. Now she had customers coming to her, plus she still did catalog sales. My mother wanted that kiosk and she knew if I was married to Mike, the two of us could talk him into kicking his mom to the curb. It sounded like a bad idea to me, but after insisting that's how mother-in-law relationships worked, I backed off. It wasn't like I was going to actually MARRY Mike, anyway.
Ugh, boring.
After convincing my mom I was a lot cause, I hurried toward my bedroom, anxious to get into some sweats and make some goodies before Rose showed up. And I knew she would. She always did. The groans and giggles that flowed through the wall and into my bedroom made me cringe. Apparently my brother Jasper and his girlfriend, Mary Jane Brandon, were home. And happy, by the sounds of it.
Her name wasn't really Mary Jane. It was Mary Alice, but her daddy was the biggest pot producer in the state, so we all called her Mary Jane. She loved it which was good, because it fit her. Plus when she smoked it, she got really mellow. Her hyper little self was almost normal when she got to flying pretty high. An easy-going spit-fire. That's what Mary Jane was.
Knowing I couldn't listen to Jasper yelling for her to "ride him like Stonewall Jackson rode against the Yankees," then her yelling at the top of her lungs "The South has risen again!" I grabbed my clothes and made a mad dash for the downstairs bathroom. I wasn't staying in the house to listen to that. I needed to get laid. And soon. But I wasn't gonna marry Mike just for that.
Pulling out my phone, I called the one number I knew could help me.
"Hello?" I heard Rose yell.
"Hey, it's me."
"Oh shit, Bella. I went by the store on my way home tonight, and my parents were there... My Eyes, Bella! I won't ever get that picture out of my head. I'm coming over right now! Don't they know what they've done to me?"
I laughed. "Hurry up. Mike's supposed to show up at eight, but it you're here then I'll make up something good to tell him so he can't stay long."
"Why make up somethin'? Just tell him we met two hot guys from the carnival and we're going to see them. Let Mike deal with that."
The carnival. I'd almost forgotten. Then I thought about the cute guys from the ice cream shop. If they were half as cute in the glow of carnival lights as they were in the shop that morning, I was screwed. But maybe if I got lucky enough I could get actually screwed. It had happened before, though it had been four years. Letting out a sigh I thought about Tony for a second or two. How sweet and funny and cute he'd been. How he'd fumbled around in the dark and made a complete fool of himself when he admitted he didn't know what he was doing. How that fact made me like him even more. How he mumbled about poems and country music. How I cried the next day when I realized he was gone. How after that I gave in to the fact that I was never getting out of Forks and Mike was probably the best I'd ever do.
I told Rose to hurry, that I'd make popcorn and we could go down to the rodeo grounds and watch all the hot, sweaty muscly men set up the rides and games.
That sounded like a lot more fun than most Thursday nights in Forks, Washington.
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