Chapter 10 – Unexpected
I stared, unblinking, as Carlisle and I drove down the winding lane towards the house. How many weeks had it been since I had come out here to see if the house was there at all, trying to trigger my hallucinations? Five weeks, six weeks? It had been overgrown, deserted, an empty shell that had once contained so many memories.
Looking out the car window, I almost couldn't place what month it was now, what year. Six weeks ago, the lane had been nearly completely overgrown. But now the greenery surrounding the narrow drive had returned to its previous state of carefully tended madness – wild enough to obscure the way to the Cullen home from the passing motorist, but trimmed enough that no stray limb would scratch the car.
"Time passes so oddly for us, Bella," Carlisle said softly, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Human lives pass quickly, and yet they are nothing compared to plant life. To look at this place you would think we had been gone a century. How Esme can stand to garden is beyond me – sprout and bloom and wilt, all in the blink of an eye." He shook his head, following my gaze out the window and yet seeing something other than what I saw. "It looks like Emmett has done one pass, but I'll have to do another in the morning."
"I was here," I murmured, surprised by my own voice, "six weeks ago, maybe. It did look like you had been gone a century."
Carlisle shot me a curious look, but before he could voice the question, we rounded the last bend in the drive. I braced myself for the sea of ferns that I had waded through during my last lonely visit, but was greeted by a much different sight. The ferns were almost completely gone, mowed down, along with the grass, to only a few inches high. The other two cars were pulled up in front of the house, doors standing open, their contents ready to be unloaded.
On the far side of the yard, Emmett was pushing a tank-like lawnmower across the few remaining ferns, unnecessarily shirtless in the waning March sunlight. When Carlisle pulled his sedan in beside the other cars, I caught a glimpse of Rosalie sitting on the porch, a stack of boxes forgotten at her side as she watched Emmett with undisguised appreciation. She looked up at us as we got out of the car, shooting me a quick smirk before turning back to Emmett. Carlisle raised an eyebrow, his expression amused, but didn't comment.
Esme came bustling out of the open front door, her hair wrapped up in a kerchief and a smudge of dust running almost comically along her left cheekbone. She darted over to us and greeted Carlisle with a quick peck, then turned to me and enveloped me in a warm hug.
"Welcome home, Bella," she whispered into my hair, squeezing me tighter.
I felt my stomach plummet, and I clung to Esme for a moment, waiting for the world to right itself. This wasn't my home, this was his home. I had been so focused on ensuring that the Cullens could return to Forks – could, in fact, go on as though I had never existed – that I hadn't even stopped to think what they would expect of me once the treaty was secured. Even when Carlisle had referred to 'home' during our drive here, I hadn't truly processed what he meant.
Esme released me with one last squeeze and turned back to the waiting cars, calling for Rosalie as she went.
"Oh, sorry," I heard Rose answer, the sound of her voice echoey and distant. "I got distracted. It just never gets old, you know?"
But what were my options? Return to Denali and try to fit myself into Tanya's exotic lifestyle? Roam the wilderness alone and hope that my shield was enough to keep me from one day cracking and killing a human?
I took a few tentative steps up onto the porch. Six weeks ago I hadn't even been able to get that far, I had been so scared of what I would see in the vacated house. That same fear surged through me now, twisting into some sort of sick fascination. I peeked through the open doorway into the house, as though the state the Cullens had left their home in five and a half months earlier could somehow predict how my life would unfold now.
The furniture was where I remembered it, uncovered and inviting, though I could see a pile of sheets behind one of the couches. The paintings that lined the walls were covered, but still in their places, like they had simply been waiting for their owners to inevitably return.
I inched closer, then froze in the doorway, unable to take another step further.
The last time I had been in this room was the night of my disastrous birthday party. In the nearly six months since then, my life had turned into a warped negative of what it had been.
With that last step, Edward's piano slid into my field of view, still sitting on its raised platform like nothing had ever happened. The last time I had seen it, Esme had been mopping my blood off the floor at its feet. Now it lay open, recently freed from its covering. And, because the universe had turned completely on its head, where I had once seen Edward sit so often, Jasper now stood, a look of intense concentration on his face.
Six months ago, he had been across the room at the foot of the stairs while I stood near the piano, opening my doomed birthday presents. Now he leaned over the giant instrument as though unaware that this was the exact spot where my life had ended.
As I watched, he reached toward the keyboard and played a note, frowning when it came out a bit sour. The hole in my chest cried out at the sound and I gripped the doorframe for support, remembering at the last moment to grip gently, so as not to leave finger marks on Esme's pristine molding.
Jasper's eyes shot up to my face as I wavered there in the doorway, and half a second later a delicate calm reached me. I was beginning to be able to discern different tones in the emotions Jasper created, and the melody he wove now seemed to recognize that things had been bad before, while firmly asserting that things were better now, and would be better in the future.
But how could everything be alright, now or ever? I stared at the piano's glossy black surface, my mind unwillingly replaying every fuzzy memory I had of the instrument, and felt sudden kinship with the elegant giant. He had once appeared to love both of us, expressed devotion in word and action. And yet here we were, abandoned and forgotten, both hopelessly out of tune.
"Coming through," Rosalie said from behind me, her voice cutting into my thoughts.
I had only managed to turn my head slightly, still transfixed by the piano, when she spoke again:
"In or out, Bella, pick one."
That was the question, wasn't it? Did I want in on the life the Cullens were offering me? A life surrounded by people who loved me, but a life where I would be bombarded by reminders of Edward every minute of every day for the rest of eternity. Could I honestly reject this, reject them, regardless of my other options? When it came right down to it, where did I want to be? In or out?
I felt my body move before I had made the conscious decision. My shoulders leaned forward and my foot lifted off the ground, and I scooted into the house and out of Rosalie's way. She brushed past me, four book boxes stacked precariously in her arms, and disappeared up the stairs. Carlisle entered a moment later carrying suitcases.
"There you are," Jasper said, looking up again and setting down a wrench-like tool I didn't recognize, as though he hadn't been aware of my presence for the past minute or more. "We were starting to get worried."
"Some of us were stuck taking the long way around," Carlisle reminded him with a smile, smoothly concealing our brief stop to talk. "The Mercedes isn't really equipped for off-roading."
"Right, sorry," Jasper said, grimacing. "I suppose I'm still on edge from the block on Alice's visions. Everything went well, then?"
"As well as could be expected," Carlisle sighed. "We've re-established the treaty with one new term on each side, and with Bella covered as a Cullen."
"Good," Jasper nodded, turning back to the piano. "As it should be." He picked up the wrench tool again and carefully adjusted one of the piano's pins. "What are the new terms? Alice and I were too far away to hear."
"We've agreed to advise them of any prolonged absences from the area, and they've agreed to keep us up to date on changes in pack structure – it seems leadership has passed to Sam Uley, rather than to Billy or Jacob Black. Did Alice's vision change at all?"
Jasper shook his head, trying out the note again. "She saw when you decided to start the car, but nothing before that. I think the theory that it's the wolves is a fairly solid one."
Carlisle nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps after more interactions we will be able to nail it down further," he mused.
Jasper laughed, a short, clipped sound. "I know it's only scientific curiosity, but I for one hope our interactions with the wolves are few and far between."
Carlisle acknowledged the other man's point with a rueful smile and a little nod, then turned to follow Esme as she flitted up the stairs.
I registered this conversation as barely more than background noise as I stood rooted to the spot I had stepped to in clearing the doorway for Rosalie. I couldn't stop staring at the piano, at Jasper's pale, scarred hands against the keys. The life I had imagined as a vampire – the fantasies I had created, set in this very house – couldn't be further from reality. In the last five and a half months my path had veered in ways I still couldn't completely comprehend, leading me to this looking-glass version of everything I had wanted.
Jasper glanced up at me again; I knew he couldn't help but be completely aware of everything I was feeling, but for once he didn't push my emotions.
"Never let an out of tune piano sit, Bella," he told me solemnly as he turned back to his work, though I couldn't tell if it was mock-seriousness. "It will only get worse."
I nodded dumbly, images of the life I had wished for and the life I had received clashing in my head. Clenching my teeth, I pushed everything back behind the wall. I would find my footing here, somehow. I had to.
"Alright Rose, I'm done!" Alice yelled from somewhere on the third floor, shattering the quiet of the house and making me jump slightly.
"Inside voices, please," Esme said quietly as she passed by the stairs, boxes stacked in her arms.
"Sorry Mom!" Alice shouted back. Esme just smiled and shook her head.
"Come on, that means you, too," Rosalie said, coming up behind me, the suitcase Alice had packed for me clutched in one hand. I nodded, my eyes wide.
"Is Alice mad at you?" I asked as we zipped up the stairs.
Rose shrugged. "I made her clear out our sewing room for you, and she disagrees with my reasoning."
"Oh, yes," Alice chimed in sarcastically as we reached the third floor and turned down the hallway towards her – and away from Edward's room, I noted thankfully. "Let's put Bella in the smallest bedroom with the smallest window. I don't know why I would have a problem with that."
I heard Rosalie grind her teeth together. "Some things are more important than window size," she said, gesturing me towards the open door next to Alice.
"You mean besides you always getting your way?" Alice asked with mock surprise, crossing her arms over her chest as I slipped past her into the room. "I hadn't realized!"
"She needs her own space," Rose hissed at her.
"She had her own space," Alice hissed back. I winced, wondering if they had forgotten I could understand them now.
"You know what I mean!" Rosalie shot back.
"It's what he would want."
"Screw him, I'm more concerned with what's best for Bella!"
"So am I!"
"It's great," I said quickly, turning back to face them. "Thank you so much." Alice looked like she was about to suggest an alternative, while Rosalie looked like the cat who caught the canary – I had to get away from them. Grabbing my suitcase from Rose I started backing into the room. "I'm just going to change and hang up my clothes. Thank you both, again."
"There are wooden hangers in the closet!" Alice called as I closed the door on them.
I sighed and slumped against the door, finally getting to really look at the room in question. It was smaller than many of the other rooms in the house, but still easily as large as my bedroom at Charlie's. The one small window Alice had mentioned was a cozy-looking window seat with a view of the front yard and the forest beyond it. There was a walk-in closet, a large armoire, a bookshelf, and a full-length mirror. Against the same wall as the window sat a delicate antique desk, which, from the looks of the dust patterns on its top, I guessed had recently been home to a sewing machine, and in the corner just to my left was what appeared to be an authentic Victorian fainting couch. I rolled my eyes at the irony, and made my way over to the closet, pulling my suitcase along behind me.
–o–
After nearly half an hour of hiding in my new room, I decided it was probably safe to face Alice and Rosalie again. I opened the door cautiously and stuck my head out into the hall, half afraid that one or the other of them would be silently waiting to pounce on me. Thankfully the hallway was clear, and I crept soundlessly down the stairs, listening for the others. Outside, the sun was setting behind the trees, but no one had bothered to turn on any lights.
The house was strangely quiet as I reached the first floor, though small noises here and there alerted me to the locations of the various Cullens. From the second floor landing I caught the steady scratch of a pen against paper from the direction of Carlisle's study, and in the living room Jasper sat on one of the newly uncovered sofas, reading the same small book he had been reading in Denali, utterly silent and still in the darkened room except for the occasional page turn. Light, quick footsteps sounded from the kitchen, and I headed in that direction, feeling an unusual sense of uneasiness in the dark, quiet house.
From the kitchen doorway I caught sight of Esme, who appeared to be cleaning every surface in the room simultaneously, as the last few rays of sunlight leaked through the glass wall at the back of the house.
"Hello sweetheart," she said, smiling up at me as she scrubbed one of the granite countertops. "Were you able to settle into your room alright?"
"Yes, thank you," I said, overwhelmed, not for the first time, by the easy way Esme accepted me into her life. "Can I help with anything here?" I asked. "Any of the cars still need unpacking?"
"Oh, don't worry about it, dear," she replied, kissing my cheek as she zipped past me on her way to the sink. "We're all done unpacking. We didn't take that much with us, after all."
I nodded, unable to find my voice. They hadn't taken much with them, because Forks had never meant much to them in the first place – one house among dozens they must own, a few years here, a few years there, human lives pass so quickly…
Esme was watching me as she rinsed out her scrub brush. "We had hoped to be able to return soon, is what I meant to say," she added softly.
Had they tried to convince Edward to change his mind, then? Did he think I would get over him that quickly? I couldn't make any sense of it, and I couldn't bring myself to ask.
"I think Alice said something about getting books together to help you with your GED," Esme continued, her voice brighter. "Why don't you two take over the dining room for now – I've already dusted and vacuumed in there, so I won't bother you at all. We've got to get you ready for college in the fall!"
The fading light did nothing to dim the sparkle in her eye, and I smiled in spite of myself. "Thank you, Esme," I whispered, then turned back for the living room and the dining room that lay just beyond it.
As I settled into one of the chairs that were pulled up to the large antique table, images of my dreamed-of life as a Cullen flitted through my mind against my will. My fantasies had been better lit, I noted ruefully, as I shoved everything back behind the wall of white noise in my head, before the depression could set in. It was becoming easier to shove things away, to close them off behind that wall – behind what had to be, I realized, a part of my mental shield.
Eleazar had said that I simply needed to find the psychic muscle used to control the shield and work to strengthen it. The memory shield seemed to be growing stronger just by using it, and in the sudden silence in my mind I found myself wondering about other parts of my shield. Would working one area of the shield help with other areas? I had learned to move only two parts of my shield so far, but maybe strengthening those would help me control the rest of it…
I shot a quick glance towards Jasper, still reading in the living room, and then wrestled my emotion shield into place, snapping it shut near my collar bone. Immediately I released it, then pulled it back down. It felt like stretching a rubber band, or pulling a knit hat down over my face. Push it up and my emotions could get through to Jasper. Pull it down and he couldn't feel them. On, off, on, off. I could almost feel the imaginary muscle working, becoming stronger. On, off, on, off. Could I learn to do this with other parts of my shield? Could I learn to open my whole mind up…?
On, off, on, off, on…
"Bella," Jasper called from the living room, not looking up from his book. "Stop doing that. It's freakish."
"Sorry," I replied sheepishly, and let the shield snap back open.
Alice flounced into the room then, a dozen or so books stacked precariously in her arms. "Okay," she said, dropping the books onto the table rather unceremoniously. "History first, Calculus later. For the GED you'll need to be able to answer questions about American history, so we'll start there." She fished out a pad of paper and a pen from under the pile of books and pulled up a chair next to me. "Your memory is so much better now, so this won't be studying so much as reading everything once," she said as she started outlining topics in her round, flowing script. "We'll start with pre-Columbus, then his arrival. Jamestown, early settlers, Salem witch trials…" She trailed off, quickly writing each topic on its own line, with names and page numbers of the books I should read for each. In a matter of seconds she had outlined several centuries of American history.
She paused for a moment, looking over her list. "That brings us to the Civil War. The test will probably be fairly basic, but Carlisle has a fantastic book on Abraham Lincoln that you really should read."
From across the room, Jasper muttered something under his breath that sounded a great deal like, "Damn Yanks."
"Something you want to add, sweetheart?" Alice asked without looking up, her voice dangerously innocent.
"No ma'am," he drawled, turning resolutely back to his book.
–o–
Alice and I spent the next half hour locating all the books I would need for my studies; most were in the pile she had created on the dining room table, but a couple had to be hunted for on the several dozen bookshelves that hid in nearly every corner of the large house. Esme found us while we were raiding Carlisle's library and let me know that she had dusted and vacuumed my room, and I convinced Alice to let me move the study session up there. Soon after, I was situated at the antique desk in my room, Alice's outline in front of me, stacks of books at my elbow, and the rain pattering softly against the window pane. It almost felt like home.
–o–
I was so wrapped up in Alice's lesson plan that I jumped slightly when Jasper slapped a small book down on top of my pile of papers. I hadn't heard him come in.
"What's this?" I asked, picking up the thin paperback gingerly. It wasn't the same book he had been reading earlier, I noted curiously.
"Morse Code manual," he replied, leaning against the desk. "Your light switch act earlier got me to thinking. How quickly can you turn your shield on and off?"
"I've been getting faster," I shrugged, flipping through the pages of the book carefully – everything had to be handled delicately now, but this book seemed especially fragile. To prove my point, I flickered my shield on and off as quickly as I could; it fluttered like humming bird wings.
Jasper nodded, projecting his approval onto me. "If you can do that at a consistent speed and in a pattern, we could have an interesting way to communicate. Here," he leaned over my shoulder and quickly turned to a page near the beginning of the book, "try this." He tapped his finger on the table, following the pattern of lines and dots printed in the book's faded ink.
I copied the pattern as best I could, imitating the staccato of the dots and the long holds of the lines as I turned my shield on and off.
"Good," he said, his approval intensifying. "Faster if you can, and watch the breaks between words."
I nodded absently, my too-broad mind already jumping to a new topic. "Is this first edition?" I asked, holding the book up and looking closer at the faded ink.
He shrugged, nonplussed. "True Morse Code hasn't changed. Why buy a new book?"
When my eye caught on the date in the front of the book, I very carefully closed it and set it on the desk. 1868. Jasper had handed me a book printed in 1868.
His eyebrows drew together, and he reached over and flipped the book open to a new phrase. "Try this one," he said, pointing at it.
With my hands securely in my lap, I studied the series of lines and dots on the page, and then flickered my shield at him, replicating the pattern.
"Better," he said, nodding once. "Read through this and practice a bit and you should be able to send me entire sentences without even really thinking about it."
He closed the book and held it out to me. I stared at it apprehensively for a moment, then looked up at him. "You really don't have any other books on Morse Code?" I asked.
"What's wrong with this one?" he demanded, his eyebrows drawing together again.
"You mean besides the fact that it was published before nearly everyone I know was born? You can't give that to me, I'll break it!"
His forehead smoothed and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Somehow I think this book will survive better than Alice's Vogue did," he said, still holding it out to me.
Sighing, I took it from him as gently as I could and opened again to the front of the tiny book. "Why does it say 'American Morse Code'?" I asked, reading the title page. "I thought Morse Code was international."
"It is now," Jasper replied, leaning against the edge of the desk again. "This is the original version. The Europeans apparently felt the need to tweak a few things, so we started calling ours American Morse Code and theirs International."
"Isn't the International standard… better, though?"
He snorted. "Only if you want to talk to the French."
"Oh, right, speaking of which," I said, my mind shifting gears again without my permission. "Alice told me that until I decide to learn a 'civilized' language, I'm supposed to talk to you about help with the foreign language portion of the GED."
Jasper rolled his eyes. "Don't tell her I told you, but she's been fluent in Spanish since the 1950s. She just likes the French field trips better." He straightened and started for the door. "I have some books in Spanish that you can borrow, and I think Emmett still has his textbook from Forks High School. I'll bring them by in a bit. Until then, skip the History lesson and focus on Morse Code."
He nodded at me in the way that always made me think he should have a cowboy hat to tip while he called me 'ma'am', then slipped out the door and pulled it closed behind him.
–o–
I studiously kept my door closed all night, almost afraid of what I would find in the dark house, though I couldn't say which I feared more – the ghosts or the married couples. Around dawn I gathered up my study materials and moved to the coffee table in the living room, settling against the couch to read another chapter of Emmett's surprisingly worn copy of Así Se Dice! Esme was out back, humming to herself as she planted rose bushes beneath the large glass wall. Alice and Jasper drifted into the living room about twenty minutes later and quietly claimed seats nearby, Alice reading from another fashion magazine while Jasper continued in the antique book he had been reading in Denali.
It was nearing nine o'clock when Alice made a disgusted noise and threw her magazine down onto the coffee table.
"What is it?" Jasper asked, his voice worried.
She shook her head and looked at me. "We're going to have visitors later today," she said, sounding annoyed. "One or more of the wolves are coming here. The whole day just disappeared!" She stood and started pacing, grumbling to herself.
"Do you know who's going to come by? Or why?" I asked, my forehead crinkling.
"I can't see anything!" she snapped. She sighed, stopped pacing, and squared her shoulders. Her face was smooth and blank for a moment, then she smiled. "We're going to go shopping in Seattle," she announced, holding her hand out to Jasper. "Try to have them out of here by sunset, okay Bella?"
–o–
Half an hour later, Carlisle, Emmett, and I waited on the porch, listening to the faint, far away sound of a car coming down the drive towards the house. We hadn't expected the wolves to drive, but this had to be the visitor Alice had seen – or rather, the cause of her lack of vision that implied that the wolves would be somehow involved in our day.
Emmett cocked his head to the side as the sound of the car grew slightly louder. "Whoever it is, they're driving your truck, Bella."
I looked up at him sharply. "Are you sure?"
He grinned. "I've never heard another engine like that. That's definitely your truck."
"But… I left my truck in the middle of the woods." I shook my head. I could hear the engine better now too, and Emmett was right: that had to be my truck barreling down the lane far too fast. It didn't make any sense.
The truck rounded the last bend in the drive then, shaking from the speed. I watched in disbelief as it careened to a stop about twenty yards from us, rocking on its springs. The engine cut, and then Jacob Black leapt from the cab. I blinked at him in surprise.
"Hey Bella!" he called, standing his ground beside the truck. "Dr. Cullen," he nodded at Carlisle, his tone not quite as friendly. His musky, wet-dog scent wafted to me over the distance separating us, cooling the ever-present burn in my throat and turning my stomach slightly.
"Uh, hi Jacob," I replied, trying to figure out what on earth he was doing here, and how he had gotten ahold of my truck.
Jacob's eyes flickered from me to Emmett, standing with his arms crossed over his chest just behind me.
"Oh, Jacob, this is Emmett," I said, remembering my manners. "Emmett, Jacob Black."
Emmett grinned his biggest, most frightening grin, showing all his teeth. "I'm Bella's scary big brother," he said, his voice half playful and half seriously threatening.
Jacob scowled.
"What can we do for you, Jacob?" Carlisle asked, cutting through the sudden tension.
Still scowling, Jacob glanced at Carlisle. "I wanted to return Bella's truck. I hid it for her last week, so Charlie wouldn't freak out. Figured she'd want it back."
The loose puzzle piece that had been tumbling around my head the past few days finally clicked into place. Charlie had bought my story about driving to Los Angeles because he hadn't found my truck abandoned in the woods, and he hadn't found it because Jake had been hiding it. "Wow, Jake, thank you."
Beside me, Carlisle nodded. "You saved Chief Swan a great deal of worry and heartache, I think." He paused, turning towards me; I nodded ever so slightly, answering his unspoken question. "We'll give you and Bella some time to catch up," he said, squeezing my shoulder. "Nice to see you again, Jacob."
"Likewise," Jacob replied, though his tone made me question his sincerity.
Carlisle smiled and nodded, then turned back towards the front door, motioning to Emmett as he disappeared inside the house.
Emmett hovered another moment after Carlisle had gone. "If he gives you any trouble, just holler and I'll come help," he said, his voice loud enough for Jacob to hear.
I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm sure I can handle myself."
"Oh I know you can, I just don't want to miss out on the fun!" He cracked his knuckles and gave Jacob one last side-long look. "See ya, Jake!" he said, then turned and stalked back into the house.
Jacob was still glaring in Emmett's general direction when I turned to cross the twenty yards between us, careful to keep my speed to a normal human pace.
"How serious was he?" Jacob asked as I neared, still scowling.
"Don't worry about Emmett, he's a good guy. I don't think any of the Cullens are particularly comfortable with this, and Emmett just wants to make sure I'm safe, that's all."
"Why wouldn't you be safe with me?" he demanded, looking offended.
"You mean besides the centuries of hate between my kind and yours?" I elbowed him playfully, suddenly feeling better than I had in weeks.
"Oh, sure, that," he replied, grinning. His grin was off, somehow, more bitter than I remembered it. I wondered if I was just catching details now that my human eyes had missed.
"I wasn't sure if you'd be able to talk," Jacob continued, following me as I climbed into the bed of the truck and sat down on the far wheel well.
"It's not like that, Jake," I sighed.
He perched on the edge of the truck beside me and raised an eyebrow.
"They aren't controlling," I explained. "They aren't forcing me to be here, and they wouldn't force me to stay away from you, no matter how dangerous they think you might be. They just want to help."
"Sure, sure, the only altruistic vampires in the world. But I meant physically able, Bells. You seemed to be having a rough time of it yesterday."
I shrugged, looking away. "I haven't smelled a human close up, and I'm not really ready to test my resolve quite yet, and definitely not with Billy. It was safer just not to breathe at all."
"But I'm safe to smell?" he asked, his tone at once bitter and amused.
"You smell like a wet dog, Jacob," I said, rolling my eyes at him.
"And you smell like anti-freeze and cough syrup," he shot back. "It's gross."
I swatted at him and felt my mouth curve up into a smile. It was amazing to me that despite everything that had changed, the one thing that hadn't was Jake's ability to nearly heal the wound in my chest.
"So," I said, turning towards him. "You've had a busy three weeks."
He made a hurmph noise and looked away, but I could tell that his jaw was set. "I spent the first two worried that we'd never be able to be friends again, with me being a werewolf and all – we can't tell anyone, Alpha's orders. And then I spent the last week worried that my best friend was now my mortal enemy." His mouth twisted up into the same bitter, mocking smile again, and I began to understand.
"But the treaty fixes everything," I said, my tone joking as I attempted, badly, to lift his spirits. "I get to know about you being a werewolf, and we can still be friends. So you were worrying over nothing."
"Sure, but I'm still a werewolf, and you're still a vampire."
"There are worse things," I replied, my voice low, as I looked back towards the house, across the recently shorn ferns.
Jacob shifted beside me, and the truck creaked beneath us. "What about you?" he asked, breaking the silence that wasn't as comfortable as it had once been. "You really ran all the way to Alaska?"
I snorted, the corner of my mouth curling up again. "Yes, and I bet you could now, too. Maybe even quicker than I did."
"I don't know, you're pretty fast," he said, his tone appreciative even as he confirmed my fears that he had been one of the wolves who had chased me into Canada.
"When Sam said you guys saw it happen…?" I asked, not sure I really wanted to know, but realizing that Jacob might need to talk about it.
"Yeah," he replied quietly, looking at his hands. "We got there just a couple of seconds too late, the leech had already jumped at you. We couldn't do anything besides chase him down and kill him for it. We thought he'd killed you, but then your scent broke off separately… Sam convinced me there wasn't anything we could do to stop it, anyway."
Reaching over, I took his hand and squeezed it gently. My skin looked like snow compared to his, and for a moment I was afraid the heat radiating from him would melt me, like a snowman in the sun.
"I was the last to get there," Jacob continued. "Maybe if I had been a little bit faster, I might have been able…"
I shook my head. "It's not your fault, Jake, don't think like that. This was going to happen eventually, one way or another. At least this way the pack can't take issue with the Cullens over it."
"So you did want it to happen, then?" he asked, looking up at me, obviously trying to keep the accusation out of his voice and failing badly.
"Of course not," I said, pulling my hand back from the overwhelming heat of his. "Not like that, not when I was separated from the Cullens or anyone else who could help me. I'm still not sure I want this, but it's not really my choice now, is it?"
"But you got the Cullens back because of it," he pointed out, his tone still suspicious.
I nodded, looking away. "That was just a happy coincidence. I didn't think they would want me around, and I didn't go looking for them. I'm just glad to have someone to help me through this."
He was silent for a long moment. "Is he coming back?" he asked, staring out across the yard, towards the woods to the west of the house.
I shook my head. "He doesn't know – about me, I mean. I don't even know where he is, really."
When he didn't speak again, I looked up at him. He was still staring across the yard, his eyes far away. "I could find him, you know," he said, his voice flat. "I'm good at tracking, the best in the pack. He couldn't hide from me for long, I'm sure of it."
His words made me oddly uncomfortable for a reason I couldn't quite name, but I resisted the urge to shift in my seat. "Thanks for the offer," I said, sounding anything but thankful, "but I don't think I'm ready to face him yet. I'm still trying to figure out who I am and where I fit, and if he came back…"
"I didn't mean I would bring him back," Jacob replied, turning to look at me with wide, serious eyes. "If you want me to, Bella, I'll find him and kill him for you, treaty be damned."
I stood so quickly that the truck swayed threateningly beneath my feet, as I gasped for unnecessary breaths. In the same fraction of a second, Jacob leapt away, landing with only the slightest thud on the far side of the bed, near the cab.
"Jeez, Bells, don't do that!" he spat, tremors shaking his tall frame.
But I couldn't spare a thought for how much I must have frightened him. "Don't ever say that, Jake, do you understand me? Don't even think it!"
He scowled at me as the tremors subsided. "I wouldn't get hurt. I've killed vampires before—"
"He doesn't deserve to die!" I cried, cutting him off. I could hear the sounds of someone, probably Emmett, moving around just inside the front door. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to sit down and face Jake calmly. "Look, I know you blame him," I said, taking another shaky breath, "but what happened wasn't his fault. It was mine. I knew I was never going to be enough, but I tried to hang on to him anyway. It was my fault," I added again, my voice barely a whisper.
Jacob crossed the truck and sat beside me, taking my small pale hand in his massive, burning one. "It could never be your fault, Bella," he said, his voice quiet but intense. "You didn't do anything wrong. You loved someone who didn't love you back."
Flinching, I closed my eyes, holding onto his hand like a lifeline.
"And there's no wrong in that," he added softly.
I hung my head, wishing for tears. Despite everything that had changed, I had still somehow managed to lead him on. "I'm never going to be whole, Jake," I said, my voice close to breaking. "Before, there was the chance that maybe as the years passed, maybe it would get easier. But now… Years don't mean anything, now. I'm always going to feel like this." I hoped Jacob understood that I meant both my feelings for Edward and my feelings for him.
"I had a plan, you know," he said, after a moment. "Everything was going perfectly, and then we had to go and turn into monsters."
I laughed roughly and looked up at him. "Nothing is ever simple, is it?"
He watched me silently, his brown eyes bottomless. "You aren't going to go anywhere, are you?"
Shaking my head, I looked away from the intensity of his gaze. "I can't imagine leaving Forks. I'll be here as long as the Cullens let me stay. And even then – I'll be here as long as Sam allows it, I guess. I'll be haunting your grandchildren someday, I'm sure."
He snorted. "Not mine. Sam and Emily's, maybe, but I don't think you'll ever have to worry about my grandchildren, Bells."
I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "Jake, I'm not worth it. Don't give up your life for me."
He shrugged, the self-mocking smile back. "Neither of us is going anywhere, and we've got eternity to figure it out. As long as I keep shifting I won't age, so just don't go and do anything stupid. We'll figure it out."
Wishing I could feel half as confident as he seemed to, I nodded, and let myself relax against his shoulder.
–o–
When Alice and Jasper returned shortly after sunset, I was curled up on one of the living room sofas, reading the Spanish novel Jasper had loaned me and translating each sentence into Morse Code in my head as I went. Between the mental exercise and my wall of white noise, I had managed to contain all the memories and conflicting emotions that Jacob's visit had dredged up.
"I come bearing clothes!" Alice announced as she skipped into the living room, two shopping bags clasped in each hand. Behind her, Jasper was carrying several others.
"At some point, won't you run out of closet space?" I asked dryly, looking at her over the top of my book.
"Of course not," she sniffed, sitting down beside me. "But these are all for you, anyway, silly. Well, mostly for you," she added, smiling and winking at me.
"Alice," I groaned, sitting up and putting my book down. "You shouldn't have done that. I have money, I can buy my own clothes. You don't have to pay for me."
She waved me off with a flip of her hand. "Stop worrying about that. It isn't even real money," she said, as though that explained everything.
"What does that mean?"
"It means she plays the stock market with enough success to keep us all well-dressed until the end of time," Jasper replied, as he crossed the room towards us and set another dozen or so shopping bags down on the floor nearby.
"Precisely," Alice said, beaming up at her husband. "And look on the bright side," she said, turning back to me and patting my knee, "at least you got out of actually shopping, right?"
"True," I allowed with a small smile. "Thank you."
"Thank your furry friends for that one," she shrugged.
"How did it go, anyway?" Jasper asked, perching on the armchair across from Alice and I, his face serious.
"Fine," I shrugged. "It was just Jacob, he wanted to return my truck. He hid it last week, so Charlie wouldn't find it and start searching for me in the woods."
"So no changes to the treaty, then?" Jasper asked, his eyebrows pulling together.
I shook my head. "Jake's a friend," I said evenly. "It was nice to see him."
"Good," Alice said with a nod. "But maybe see if you can get him to call ahead next time." She stood, gathering up the shopping bags. "Come on, I'll help you put all this away, and then I think it's high time we did something fun."
–o–
"So what exactly did you have in mind?" I asked Alice as we flitted down the stairs half an hour later, all my new clothing finally put away. The sheer number of pieces she had bought for me was staggering, to say nothing of the quality. Somehow Jasper had convinced her to stick mostly with jeans and comfortable shirts, though Alice maintained that she had picked out each item based on how happy I would be wearing it. Whatever the case, my closet now looked like Bella Swan: The Cullen Edition – higher quality, slightly more fashion-forward, but still me. I blocked out thoughts of what I had once wanted that phrase to mean, and concentrated instead on the task at hand: making sure Alice's idea of 'fun' didn't get too out of hand.
"Well," she started, skipping over to where Jasper was again reading on one of the living room sofas. He had turned the lamps in the room on tonight, and the light glittered off the last bits of gold lettering on the front cover; I could just barely make out The Picture of Dorian Gray against the frayed cloth. "You have that big vampire brain now," Alice continued, balancing on the arm of the sofa, next to Jasper, "but you haven't been able to use it for anything other than studying. I thought maybe you should take a break and learn something fun."
I shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Like what?" I asked.
"Dancing," she said, wiggling her slim eyebrows at me.
"I can't dance," I replied automatically, eyeing her with suspicion.
"Don't be ridiculous," Jasper interjected, putting his book down. "You're a vampire, you have perfect recall and complete control over your body, of course you can dance. Come on, I'll teach you."
Alice clapped her hands together in glee and jumped up, zipping over to Edward's piano on the far side of the room. Jasper followed at a more sedate pace, and from the look on his face I could tell he was keeping close tabs on my emotions. I fought the urge to snap my emotional shield back into place as I trailed along behind him.
"Hmmm," Alice hummed, pulling out the bench and sitting down at the piano. "Let's start with something easy." Her hands hovered over the keys for a fraction of a second, and then she played the opening notes to a song I instantly recognized from The King and I. As the energetic bass line kicked in, Jasper grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the piano.
"It's very simple," he said, following my gaze to our feet. "Three steps, then a half turn. Just follow my lead, I'll do the rest."
Alice cued us with the music, and away we went, spinning around the living room as though it was the most natural thing in the world. It was surprisingly easy – my feet went where I told them to and didn't trip over each other, and my body adjusted after each mistake, not making it again. I relaxed and let myself enjoy the moment, and before long Jasper was adding more complicated steps into the mix. Alice's laughter added a lilting soprano line to the up-tempo music flowing from her fingers as Jasper spun me around the living room, and I couldn't help but join her.
Between one beat and the next, Alice's fingers seemed to stumble, coming crashing down with too much force on all the wrong notes. As one, Jasper and I skidded to a halt and turned towards her, just in time to see her double over on the piano bench and gasp out, "No!"
Jasper was at her side in an instant, the dance lesson forgotten. "What is it Alice, what do you see?" he asked anxiously, kneeling down beside her.
"It's— he—" Alice stuttered, still hunched over the piano with a glazed look in her eyes.
And then, as suddenly as it began, whatever it was seemed to end. Alice straightened up and turned towards Jasper and I, breathing heavily but clear eyed. "It's nothing," she said, shaking her head. "He changed his mind."
"Who changed his mind, Alice?" Jasper prompted gently, but I already knew the answer.
"Tell me," I said, my voice flat, before Alice could dodge the question.
She exchanged a worried glance with Jasper. "It's nothing Bella, really. I get little flashes all the time."
"Not like this," I insisted. "Tell. Me."
She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap now. The echoes of our moments-ago music still clung to the corners of the room. "He had decided to come back to Forks, but he changed his mind."
I stared out the large back windows towards Esme's rose garden without really seeing it. "And that would have been a bad thing, I take it?" I asked, the hole in my chest constricting and my voice still flat. My mind was a buzz of white noise.
"Bella, he wasn't going to come home, he wasn't coming back for us. He was going to go to your window at Charlie's and…" She trailed off, and when she spoke next, her voice was soft and sad. "What he would have found there and what he would have done afterwards… Yes, it would have been a bad thing."
I was out the door before I had even processed my desire to leave. My body took me automatically to my truck, still beside the garage where Jacob had parked it before he left. I didn't stop, climbing into the cab and slamming the door behind me. Instantly I regretted it. The inside of the truck was awash with scents: the smell of the truck itself, musty and comfortable, Jacob's canine smell, and my own human scent. But beneath those, faded from time to only the barest hint, was a fragrance my mind instantly recognized as vampire. Not just vampire, but Edward. A trace of it on the steering wheel, and stronger across the back of the bench seat, where his arm had often rested – his scent, haunting me still.
I curled my knees into my chest as a sob escaped me, my eyes dry and burning. Just a few minutes ago, Edward had decided to come back to Forks, to come looking for me. I couldn't begin to imagine why. I couldn't wrap my brain around what he was thinking, or Alice's reaction – and somehow the knowledge that he had been thinking about me was a frail comfort. He wasn't coming back, and if he did, I had Alice's promise that it wouldn't end well.
What I had told Jacob was the truth: I wasn't ready to face Edward. And yet… If Alice had announced that he was coming home, I knew I wouldn't have had the strength to leave. Even now, though the smell of him made my chest ache and pulse, I couldn't tear myself away. I dropped my head onto my knees and cried, the raindrops pattering on the roof of the truck a pale shadow of my missing tears.
I deserved every ghost this world could throw at me.
–o–
Nearly an hour later, I crept around the perimeter of the house and in through the kitchen door, bracing myself for the onslaught of worried family and hoping against hope that I would be able to make it up to my room before anyone cornered me. As soon as I was through the door, I could hear voices coming from the living room. I paused to listen, easily picking out Alice's voice as she spoke quickly – and angrily:
"We've been waiting for Bella to tell us she's ready, and she hasn't. It was up to her to begin with, and we can't just—"
"Have you seen her?" Rosalie cut in, her tone scathing. "She isn't exactly enjoying the situation. For someone who claims to be her best friend, you can be awfully blind, Alice."
I froze, clamping down my emotional shield without really thinking about it. They were discussing me, and this time I wanted to be able to hear the whole conversation. I moved as silently as I could, perching near the doorway to the living room and listening carefully.
"I don't understand what the big deal is," Emmett was saying, sounding confused. "Why can't we just call him and tell him to come home?"
The hole in my chest twisted painfully, and I stopped breathing.
"Emmett, dear, it isn't that simple," Esme replied.
"Why not?" Rosalie asked. "His reasons for leaving were ridiculous and now—"
"Eavesdropping again?" Jasper whispered in my ear, suddenly close behind me. Somehow I managed not to jump.
"We have to handle this delicately," I heard Alice say from the other room as I glanced guiltily up at Jasper, slowly releasing my emotional shield. "If we just call and tell him, 'Bella's a vampire, everything's great, come home!' how do you think he's going to react? He'll blame himself and beat himself up for the next half century at least."
"As much as I wish it wasn't true," Carlisle said slowly, "I think Alice has the right of this. Edward would blame himself for Bella's transformation, for not being there to stop it."
"Don't you think it is at least a little bit his fault?" Rose asked. "This wouldn't have happened if he hadn't left. I know it was Bella's call but—"
"None of us could see that at the time, not even me," Alice argued, interrupting Rosalie. "We had always been the biggest danger in Bella's life, so how could she or Edward have anticipated that changing?"
"I still think Edward needs to get back here and atone for what he's done. And that means calling him," Rosalie replied.
Sighing, Jasper grasped my elbow and steered me into the living room; everyone looked up at us as we entered.
"Bella should have a say in this, don't you think?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
"Of course," Rose snapped, glaring at Jasper. "I wasn't suggesting it wasn't Bella's choice, just voicing my opinion." She tossed her curls, still scowling.
Jasper merely raised an eyebrow as he deposited me on the couch between Esme and Carlisle, then crossed to where Alice was curled up in one of the armchairs, balancing himself on the arm and watching me carefully. I resisted the urge to pull my emotional shield down again.
"Bella dear, we didn't mean to leave you out of the discussion," Esme said, stroking my hair. "The topic has been on our minds, as I'm sure you can understand. We need to decide, as a family, how to best set things right. The question right now is whether or not calling him is the best first step."
I looked from Jasper to Esme, and then around at Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, and Carlisle, trying to make their words fit into my suddenly too-small consciousness. "Why would calling him fix anything?" I blurted out before my brain could catch up to my mouth.
"It will only 'fix' things if you want it to, Bella," Rosalie reminded me. "But personally I think he should get back here and start groveling," she sniffed.
I shook my head, the pulsing of my wound starting to pick up tempo. "Nothing has changed," I ground out, closing my eyes and bracing my arms on either side of me to keep from slumping forward as the memory came rushing back. "He didn't want me then, why would he want me now?" The truth tumbled out of my mouth at last, unhindered by everything I had tried to do to stop it.
"You… don't… want me?"
"No."
I fought against the memory, against the cold walls of the woods closing in on me, scrambling to push it back, to rebuild my defenses before the sorrow swallowed me whole…
There was no sound. I blinked around at the Cullens, echoes of Edward's voice still bouncing around my head. Everyone was staring at me. Had I said something? Had I—
"What did he do to you?" Jasper asked suddenly, his voice strangled. I looked at him, uncomprehending. Jasper was angry. Jasper was murderously angry. My brain couldn't quite put the pieces together. "What did he say to you to make you feel like this?" he demanded, eyes blazing.
It was Carlisle who caught me as I tipped forward off the couch, his arms sure around me as he gently pressed me back into Esme's side.
How could they not know? They had left with him, he had to have told them something.
"They're all gone. I stayed behind to tell you goodbye."
"Alice is gone?"
"She wanted to say goodbye, but I convinced her that a clean break would be better for you."
I couldn't breathe, couldn't open my eyes, couldn't seem to keep a grip on the present as the past yawned wide to claim me.
I was in the woods. Edward was gone. My chest was a crater.
Hands on my face. "Bella?"
Sam Uley. Sam had found me – again or for the first time, I didn't know. I had always been in these woods, chasing Edward. I always would be.
But it was not Sam's face that greeted me when I pried my eyelids back. Blond curls. Warm butterscotch. Crescent scar over his right eyebrow, crinkling as he furrowed his forehead.
Jasper.
Emotions filled me – comfort and home, and others I had no words for. Love.
"Bella, do you remember what we tried earlier? Can you use it now?"
On, off, on, off. Morse Code patterns. I flickered my shield at him, I remember.
"Good," he said, his large hands still cupping my face. He was crouched in front of me, Esme was on my left, her arms wrapped around me protectively. Carlisle was on my right, Emmett and my sisters hovered behind Jasper…
"Tell me what he said to you," Jasper commanded, his voice soft.
No, I flickered at him. Edward said no, no he didn't want me, no he didn't love me, no he wouldn't come back, no…
"Help us understand, Bella." The emotions intensified, working to fill the hole in my chest, reminding me that I wasn't alone.
Help me, I pleaded with him silently.
"I won't let you fall," he whispered back.
Closing my eyes, I dropped the wall, letting the memory come. I repeated every word of that last conversation, never making a sound. But Jasper understood.
When I was done, he nodded, his face grim even as he increased the intensity of the emotions he was pouring into me. I pulled the shield in my mind back into place and allowed Jasper's emotional music to swaddle me, allowed Esme to pull me against her shoulder and cradle me.
"Edward lied to us," Jasper said, turning to face the others.
Rosalie snorted. "Are we surprised at that? Really?"
"Rose," Esme admonished softly.
She shook her head. "What did he say to her?" she demanded of Jasper.
Between long, slow blinks, I saw Alice reach out and take her husband's hand. "Jazz, please," she said, her voice stricken. "What did he tell her?"
"He said he didn't want her," Jasper replied, his voice hollow. I crawled further into my mental cocoon, trying to shut out his words. "He convinced her it was over, that he would never come back."
"No," Esme breathed beside me, my head moving in time with her sharp exhale.
"I should have guessed it sooner, the way she's been feeling," Jasper said, his mouth set into a firm line.
"He said it was Bella's decision," Esme argued, her voice desperate. She clutched me closer to her side, as though afraid I would disappear at any moment. "He said Bella realized how much danger she was putting herself in, being near us, and that if anything happened to her it would kill her parents. It was her choice!"
"He lied," Jasper repeated harshly.
Not to me, I reminded him silently. I couldn't wrap my mind around why he had lied to his family – why not just tell them the truth, that he was bored with me? But he had told me the truth, the horrible truth that I never had been, never would be enough.
"No, Bella," Jasper said softly, turning back to me. "He lied to you most of all. He lied to protect you, I think, but he can't hide how he feels about you, certainly not from me. He lied so you would let him go."
I stared at him, unable to grasp what he was saying. That simply wasn't the way the world worked. People didn't go around lying about not loving someone so they could protect them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't force the pieces together. Edward couldn't have lied about that, it wasn't possible.
Could you say those things to Alice? I asked him. Even to save her life, could you tell her you don't love her?
Jasper's face blanched, but he didn't move.
He didn't lie, I insisted silently. Someday you will understand. Someday Edward will come back and then you will see for yourself that he didn't lie to me.
"Bella…" Jasper sighed, some of his own sorrow and hopelessness seeping into mine.
"Someday," I whispered out loud, and let my eyes drift shut.