Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga. I own twitchy fingers that enjoy writing for no profit.
Chapter 9: Lasagne and Last Straws
I made it back home about an hour before Charlie. It took me three trips, juggling three and four bags at a time to get all the groceries inside. "Jeeze how big are Sam's arms, that he can manage all these but one in one go?" I felt completely addled. The last two days had thrown so much at me and I was at the end of my tether. After so long doing nothing, being nothing, I just couldn't handle so much all at once. I needed to slow down. Take stock. Re-learn how to just be. I took a deep, steadying breath and mentally broke down all the things I had left to do that day into simple, manageable steps, so I could just get through until bed time.
"Ok. Step one: Put away the groceries." That was a nice easy one. I set myself to the task, emptying one bag at a time, and deliberately not focusing on the box on condoms in the last bag, which I threw into the back of my nightstand drawer when I took my new shampoo and conditioner up to my room to put away. I grabbed the old, strawberry stuff and took it downstairs to throw into the kitchen trash can. "Good. That's one job done. Now. Step two: Start dinner."
I took the ingredients from the fridge and cupboards and quickly lost myself in the rhythm of the kitchen. This was why I loved to cook. My hands pretty much took over, doing the tasks with no fuss and bother without me needing to really think about it. Freeing up my mind to focus on other things. "Well, now step two is underway, why not work on step three: Go over those dreams?" This was probably my best chance to do some thinking on the dreams. If I didn't, they'd only repeat again that night, and I really needed some restful sleep if I could manage it. So I turned my mind to the task as I chopped and stirred.
The Victoria dream had, at the time, seemed like just more of the same scenes I'd seen before, but as I turned it over in my mind, there were a few things that stood out. The old man that had turned into a silvery grey wolf. The more I thought about him, the stronger the feeling I got that he was a powerful man, despite his ancient appearance. Not just powerful in position in the tribe, although that was clear too from his clothes, but he had exuded a strength, almost a magical strength, as if despite his body being weak, his soul was a brightly burning flame of power. The feeling of right this time was so strong, it shook me a little. I wondered who the old man represented to my subconscious mind. The only person I could think of who was even close was Billy Black, but he was too young to fit the bill, and though on occasion he seemed to be a lot more powerful than his wheelchair bound body suggested, it wasn't the same level of power which emanated from the old man in my dream. The thought gave off that 'nearly but not quite' feeling. Like I was on the right track, but missing the point at the last minute. "Grrr. Frustrating. Maybe he's a character from the old legends." Again, that very strong feeling of right hit me hard. I'd have to look out that book I'd bought about Quileute legends when I was trying to figure out what Ed...
The pain hit like a sledgehammer to the chest.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid, Bella." I'd been concentrating so hard on the dream, that the line of thought about the book and it's significance crept up on me unawares. I sat, curled up on the kitchen floor for a few minutes, fighting for breath with my missing lungs, rocking back and forth as I struggled against the pull back into the pit. I forced myself to focus on the image of Charlie sobbing with me in my bedroom, and found that as dreadful as it was to see, it provided me with a lifeline to follow away from the abyss, and after a few more minutes, I was able to slam the door shut on the room holding my pit, and begin to balance out my breathing again. Pulling myself to my feet, I reached out a shaky hand to the knife and took a few more deep, steadying breaths before I went back to my chopping. "I must be more careful where my mind goes. If I break down like that in front of Charlie, it hurts him so much. I can't do that to him over and over." I warned myself. The recovery time had been a little less on this occasion though. The edges of the pain a little duller. I chose to concentrate on these tiny positives as I stirred the ground beef and tomato sauce, rather than thinking about the pain itself.
As I began building the giant lasagne in it's tray, I allowed my hands to find their rhythm again and carefully went back to running through my dream again. "So the old man is important somehow, and I need to look him up." I avoided thinking about the specific book.
Instead I turned my attention to the next part of my dream. I had never been both me and not me before in one of my dreams. I had always either been watching other people, or had been clearly involved myself. It was very confusing. I seemed, in the dream, to be linked with the old man somehow, but as I couldn't place him as a metaphor for someone I knew in reality, I could only assume that the not me part of myself in the dream was the part that was linked to him. Right. This time it was a gentle feeling washing over me, reassuring in the turmoil I had been feeling that day.
A niggle edged at the corner of my mind; in this dream scene, there were people I either knew, or understood what they represented - me, and Victoria, and there were also people I couldn't place as representing anyone in reality - not me, the old man/wolf, and the two young boys who turned into wolves right at the end of the scene. "Then maybe I'm mixing two dreams together. A dream based on one of the legends, and the dream about Victoria coming back for her revenge." Again, once more, the right feeling spread over me like a warm comforter. "But I thought I'd settled that one. She'll come back, and I will have to sacrifice myself to keep Charlie safe. So why is it repeating?" Usually, once I'd worked out in my conscious mind what my subconscious was trying to tell me, the dream stopped repeating. I needed to work out what was different this time.
I topped the lasagne with cheese, placed it in the oven, and started in on the salad.
"So what was different in this scene, compared to last time?" The most glaring difference I could see, apart from the presence of the old man/wolf and the boys, was the stab to the heart in the previous dreams, and the cut across the chest this last time. "Ok, so a fatal wound isn't necessary - just shedding blood will distract her. But what's the point of distracting her? There's no-one around who can take advantage of the distraction and kill her." I sighed, it was probably just me projecting a touch of wishful thinking into my dream. I didn't want to die. I would, if it meant keeping Charlie safe, but that was a very different thing to actually wanting it. Lacking any right feeling, I abandoned this line of thought and instead switched to the other dream scene, the sex scene.
I was a little torn on this one. Working out what message I was trying to send myself would mean the dream would stop repeating, but I wasn't sure I wanted this one gone just yet. It was a little too enjoyable for my own good. But then again, which did I need more; restful, undisturbed sleep, or sleeping orgasms. For a moment I actually considered it. It had been a really, really great orgasm. "Don't be ridiculous." I chided myself. "Your body needs proper rest to build itself back up. If you need great orgasms, go buy a new vibrator." It was a good point. I focused on the dream with greater resolve. I was already pretty sure that I knew what the sex and biting part of the dream was about in any case, as I had already reminded myself, the conversation with (I took a deep breath) Carlisle - the ache in my chest throbbed, but I had been ready for it and held firm - when he stitched up my arm gave me more than enough of a clue, but I just wasn't ready to make myself remember the conversation in detail. At this early point in my recovery, the damage done by forcing myself to think on it would do more damage than could be balanced out by resolving the dream and getting a better quality of sleep.
Instead I gave thought as to who was in this scene, and why. I could no longer pretend that the woman wasn't myself. The fact that I could feel everything that happened, as it happened, combined with the milky paleness of the woman's skin, and the waterfall of mahogany hair, made pretending otherwise ridiculous. And I had a fairly good idea who the man was. This last time at least. Sam. Though I was also equally sure that I'd just taken the sight of his undeniably ... erm ... attractive body, and simply fitted it into the dream where applicable. Hell, I'd even got his tattoo in there. "So definitely Sam then, but probably only cos the dream needed a male figure, and his was both the latest I'd seen, and also the best." The right feeling failed to make its appearance, but I figured it was due to the fact that I refused to recall that conversation which would resolve the dream.
Finishing the salad, and taking it to the table, I looked instead at the last part of the dream scene; the black wolf in the corner of the room. I already knew that the wolf represented the extinct shape shifter clan of the Quileute tribe, but I failed to see how that could be of use or importance to me. After all, the keyword here was extinct. I banged the tray of garlic bread down on the work top in frustration. I was clearly getting nowhere fast with this picking at my dreams. I should just deal with the fact that with the possible exception of the old man/wolf and me/not me nuance to the Victoria dream scene, I was going to get a repeat performance again tonight. I gave a heavy sigh and started cleaning down the work surfaces. The lasagne and garlic bread were in the oven and the salad prepared, so I guessed I could call both steps two and three done for now. I heard Charlie's cruiser pull up outside. Time for step four: Talk to Charlie about the motorcycles.
"Hey Dad. How's your day been?" I asked as I stepped out of the front door to meet him. He stopped and looked at me quizzically. Coming outside to meet him wasn't something I'd ever done before, so he as wondering what was up already.
"Pretty good, thanks, Bells" he said "Was there something wrong? What you doing out here?" I took a deep breath and began my first salvo in 'Operation: Convince Charlie That Motorcycles Aren't Quite As Bad As He Thinks'.
"Well I wanted to show you something I picked up today, and run a few ideas past you about it. But I'm going to need you to listen to everything I have to say, and not just dismiss it out of hand." I prepared him as much as I could. "If you're really not happy with it once you've heard me out, I promise I'll just forget the whole thing." I added as I led him to the back of my truck.
"A pile of scrap metal" he said, looking at me for an explanation. I snorted with laughter, making him grin in return. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing really, Dad. It's just that I said the exact same thing to myself when I first saw them." He grinned again. And then his grin faded into a frown.
"Them?" I saw the moment he realised what he was looking at, and quickly jumped in before he could veto it right off the bat.
"I know what you're thinking, Dad. But just hear me out? Please?" I pleaded with him and he sighed in resignation.
"Come on then, lets hear it." I gave him a little, grateful smile, took a deep breath, and plunged in.
"Well I was driving around town this afternoon - I'll explain why over dinner - and I saw the pile of scrap, as we both labelled it, sitting on someone's lawn marked 'free to collector' ..." I filled Charlie in on the little tale of how I found the motorcycles, and my reasoning behind picking the, up. He listened, his face alternating between worry, interest, understanding, and more worry. As I came to the end of my speech. He gestured for me to come in closer, and he leant down to look me dead in the eye.
"I you can make me two serious promises here, Bella, then I won't make you scrap them straight off." It was very rare that he called me 'Bella' so I knew he was completely serious about whatever these promises were.
"What is it you need me to promise?" I asked, warily.
"You are to ask someone who knows exactly what they're doing to teach you to ride safely. That's number one, and number two, yours will be an off road bike. You can ride it up lanes and tracks, around fields and hell, even on the beach, if the tribal cousin say its ok. But you will never, ever ride a motorcycle on the road. Especially here in Forks where the roads are so wet all the time." I was more than happy with this compromise. I had my truck for driving around town. The motorcycles were more a project than anything, and if I ever felt ready to have a go on one, riding on a track or lane would easily serve the purpose.
"That's absolutely fine, Dad. I promise you I'll get someone to teach me and I won't go on the road on one." He sighed and nodded, resigned.
"Well ok then Bells. Now you just need to work out how to fix them up." He smirked at the thought.
"I'll figure something out, don't you worry." I retorted. "Now. Dinner will be about twenty minutes, so you've got time to wash up ready."
"Oh crap!" He replied, making me blink in surprise. Not the response I'd expected. "Sorry, kiddo. It's just that I just remembered I'd asked Sam Uley round to have a look at those few jobs I wanted done, and he called earlier to say he'd be by at about 7:30." I looked at the clock on my cell phone. 7:20. I sighed.
"Did you want to ask him if he'd like to eat with us?" I offered. "There's more than enough; I'd planned to freeze a few portions, so I made extra." Charlie grinned.
"That'd be great, kid. Thanks." He headed into the house to go and wash up, and I returned to the kitchen to check on he oven and finish cleaning up after myself.
The house phone started ringing less than a minute after I'd gone back into the kitchen. "Right on cue. That'll be the gossip train pulling in. I wonder who they've got watching for Charlie to arrive back home." I lifted the receiver and pressed the decline button. It took under thirty seconds for it to ring again. After several more presses of the decline button, I gave in and hit the call button, opening the line at our end, and preventing any incoming calls from connecting. About five minutes later, I heard a truck pull up outside.
"That'll be Sam" Charlie called into the kitchen as he headed to the door. "I'll just show him the jobs outside first. Back in in a moment." He was outside before I could reply, so I busied myself hooking the colossal lasagne and garlic bread out of the oven and taking them across to the table, and setting an extra place for Sam. The phone gave a shrill tone, a reminder that there was a line open, and I hit the decline button to close the line. Before I could try the ploy again, the phone rang once again, but I'd already started to press the call button, so I accidentally answered the call. Grimacing, I put the phone to my ear.
"Swan residence"
"Hello there, dear. I'd your father there?" "Unbelievable. It's the bank teller lady." I realised.
"Yes, he is, thanks." I replied, and hung up, quickly opening a new line to prevent another call. From outside I heard two voices roaring with laughter, neither of them Charlie. "Two? Guess I'd better set a fourth place at the table." As I was doing so, Charlie came back inside, followed by a still chuckling Sam and another guy, just as tall and very nearly as muscled. Neither was wearing a shirt.
"Bells, this is Jared Cameron. He works with Sam." Charlie introduced the new guy, and I nodded to him from the other side of the table.
"Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Bella." I said, offering a small smile. I looked at Charlie. So are they joining us? Only it's all ready and I don't want it to get cold." Charlie looked expectantly at the two younger men.
"You want to join us, guys?" He asked. "Bells here makes the best lasagne you've ever tasted, and there's plenty to go around." Sam and Jared looked at each other, seemingly communicating silently with their eyes.
"That'd be great, yeah, if you're sure?" Sam replied, with a small smile at me, and with an answering smile I said
"Really, it's fine. I made extras anyway, so please." I gestured for them to sit down and we all settled together around the table. Just as we were all taking our first bites, the phone made that god awful shrill tone again, and I jumped up to close the line before Charlie could wonder what the noise was. Of course, as soon as I did so, the phone rang again.
"Stupid fucking busybodies" I whisper grumbled under my breath, and looked up as Jared choked a little on his mouthful. "You ok?" I asked him as Sam whacked him heavily on his back. Jared nodded at me, his hand over his mouth to cover his cough, but his eyes dancing with mischief. I shrugged off the weird feeling that he'd heard my grumbling and glared at the still ringing receiver in my hand.
"You gonna get that, kiddo, or shall I?" Charlie asked me, and I gritted my teeth and replied.
"No. I'll get it." I took a breath and pressed the call button.
"Swan residence"
"Put your father on the phone, you little tramp" I didn't recognise the woman's voice, but there were no prizes for guessing which story she'd heard and was dying to pass on.
"Sorry, he won't fit." I replied, hanging up the phone and switching it to silent. The stereo sound of choking snorts came from Sam and Jared and I looked at them, confused. They couldn't possibly have heard both sides of the call. I shrugged, figuring they must've guessed what the call was about and sat down, turning to Charlie and saying. "Well I guess I'd better tell you what happened this afternoon before they start knocking at the door next." Charlie looked baffled and asked
"Before who start banging? Was there a problem at work or something today, Bells?" I chuckled bitterly.
"Yeah. 'Or something'." Sam gave me a warm smile and interjected.
"Tell you what, Chief, you'd have been proud of your daughter today if you'd seen her in action. I only caught the second act, and that was impressive enough, but I'm guessing the first act was a real show stopper." All eyes were suddenly on me and as usual, I reacted by blushing like a tomato on a sun bed. "Uh oh. Time for step five: Tell Charlie before the gossips do."
"Yeah ... Ummm... See at work today..." Keeping my eye down at my fingers as they picked at each other, I launched into the story of what had happened with Mrs Newton at work, what she'd said, what I'd said, and my resultant unemployed status. "And that's why I was driving around town aimlessly when I found those bikes." I finished off, still with my eyes firmly on my hands. There was total silence from the others and I hesitantly looked up to see both Sam and Jared looking at Charlie, and his eye on me.
"So if that was the first act, what was the second?" He asked Sam, and Sam looked to me for approval to tell the story. I nodded my assent, and he began telling the others all about my adventure in the grocery store, minus, thank fuck, the embarrassing incident back at the truck. I reddened again, just remembering it. It seemed Sam had been closer by than I'd thought, as he'd clearly heard every single word that had been spoken at the checkout. Silence reigned once again after Sam had finished his part and again he, Jared and I looked at Charlie for his reaction, while Charlie stared at me. His moustache began to twitch.
"And on the phone a few minutes ago?" He asked. I filled him in on the call, minus the 'tramp' comment, no need to add that in. His moustache twitched even more. Suddenly he could hold it in no longer and great roars of laughter filled the air. It was a wonderful sound, something I'd not heard enough of over the years, and certainly not at all in the last few months. Jared's and Sam's laughter soon joined Charlie's, and even I found myself giggling along a bit.
"Oh Bells, hon, I'm so proud of you. You really gave all those nosy bitches what they had coming, but never once crossed the line. You even managed to stop Mrs Green in her tracks, get her back on the right track, and managed to make sure there were no hard feelings. Truly a masterful piece of work. He stood up from the table and came round to my side, giving me an awkward noogie/hug type thing that somehow managed to convey all his love and pride, without embarrassing either of us with a public emotional display. Charlie's cell phone rang just then and he went into the living room to answer it. It was his work line.
Sam and Jared had already cleared their plates, despite the huge portions I'd served them, and Charlie had almost finished his. Although my appetite was slowly returning, I was struggling to finish off the modest portion I'd served myself, and so I sat back, putting my fork down.
"Thanks for dinner, Bella, it was amazing." Sam said, grabbing his and Jared's plates, and taking them to the sink.
"Yeah it really was. Best lasagne I've ever had. I'll definitely be coming back here again." Jared joked, sitting back and rubbing his stomach appreciatively. They both fell silent for a moment, and somehow the room felt a little tense.
"I'm really sorry to eat and run, Bella, but I've just realised the time, and Jared and I need to get back to the Rez. We promised we'd give another quote for a house over there this evening. Thanks again, it really was an awesome dinner." He gave me one of his beautiful grins and I waved him off.
"It was no trouble, really. I'd already cooked it all, you two just helped us eat it. And you helped that whole gossip telling thing go better too, so I owe you some thanks I think." I smiled at them both as I walked them to the door. Just as he was about walk down the porch steps, Sam leaned down to whisper in my ear "That's two you owe me then." And with that, he and Jared hurried into their truck and were gone.
I turned to go back inside, and met Charlie coming out.
"I'm sorry, Bells. I've got to go. Another hiker's gone missing, we need everyone we've got to join the search. Stay indoors, and lock everything up, will you? I'll call you every couple of hours to check you're ok." I gave him a quick hug.
"Sure, dad. I'll be fine. You just keep yourself safe and good luck out there."
"I just hope it's not another animal attack." He said, shuddering at the memory of the last one. "It's bad enough finding bodies out there in the forest, but when they're all pale and bloodless it makes it worse somehow. Creepier, or something." He pulled the door to behind him, and at the last moment, ducked his head back round. "Lock this." He said, tapping the door, and he was gone.
I did as he asked, locking the front door and checking the back door and all the windows before sitting down at the table and finally allowing myself to think about what he had just said.
"Pale and bloodless."
"Oh fuck no."
That was it. The last straw. My mind simply couldn't take any more right now, and the edges of my vision blurred and darkened. As a passed out onto the floor I simply said
"Victoria".
There. It took some wrestling, but I finally got the character at to co-operated and do as I asked. So now I'm back on track, and where I'd planned to be 2 chapters ago. :0)