Sitting in my car, which is in the middle of a long line of cars parked outside the school, I anxiously wait for Jacob to come through the gates, hoping desperately that he'll be smiling. Today has been so difficult, I just don't know if I can handle it if Jacob has had a shitty day too.
Since leaving Edward earlier, it's been a struggle not to get bogged down by memories of the past. His revelation about Tanya's wedding has brought back feelings I've kept buried for so long. He says we need to talk about the past, but all that's there is pain and misery, and I can't see what good will come of dragging it all out into the light again.
In my head, I've gone over his parting words again and again –"There's so many things I should have done differently."– Each time bringing different connotations. Where do his regrets lie? Does he regret the way he handled things, or does he simply regret being with me?
Despite everything that followed, the brief time Edward and I had together still remains the happiest time of my life –outside of my life with Jacob. A fact I've never admitted to myself until now. Seeing Edward again has reminded me just how hard I had to fight to get over him, only now I'm not sure I ever did.
It's been a very long time since I've allowed myself to dwell on these memories. I can't even allow myself to fully dwell on them today, but they keep pushing through anyway, images from that night coming through in gloriously full Technicolor. I've relived the memory of our first kiss more than once today, the ecstasy and relief I briefly felt that night are as vivid today as they were in the moment it happened.
Jacob is my number one priority, though, and I can't take the risk of becoming absorbed in my own feelings and forgetting how they might impact on him. I have to stay strong and keep my emotions in check.
"But not anymore." Thankfully, with those three words, he reminded me that the man I loved simply does not exist anymore.
A car door slamming jolts me from my reverie, and I turn my head instinctively to see a woman with flame-red hair crossing the street to join the group of people loitering at the gates.
Most of the other mothers, and a few fathers, have already exited their cars and converged beside the gates, they greet the redhead with smiles when she reaches them. There are a few faces in the banks of people milling around that seem familiar, but even when I lived in Forks, I never took the time to get to know anyone sufficiently to simply walk up to them and start making small talk.
Renee always accused me of being strange because I preferred to stand alone at the school gates, rather than amidst the other mothers who stood around gossiping and clucking like hens.
This is another reason for my anxiety; despite never having taken part in gossip mongering myself, I'm more than aware of how it works. Most of the taunts kids fling around in school come directly from things they've overheard their parents say.
Since Jacob's last name is Swan, it won't take long for people to work out he's Charlie's grandson, and then the gossip trail will lead directly to Edward and me. If I could've home schooled him for these few months I would have, but as it stands, all I can do is hope that we can somehow fly under the gossip radar.
The appearance of some children filtering through the gates interrupts my train of thought, and I get out of the car to make it easier for Jacob to spot me.
As I'm exiting the car, I accidentally lean on the horn, cringing at the blaring sound, and a few heads swivel to look. I recognize the redhead now, Victoria, I'm positive her first name is Victoria, though her last name escapes me. She was in the year below me at Forks High. I stare back at her while her eyes narrow slightly as if she's trying to place me. Perversely, it amuses me when they widen and I can tell the penny has dropped. She turns away, and I catch the tell-tale sign of her lips moving, before three of her companions turn to look at me with mildly curious glances. It seems that Victoria remembers me, while the others probably don't. And so it begins.
Jacob rounds the corner a few moments later, and pushing my worries aside, I rush to greet him. He doesn't break into a run, but he speeds up when he spots me.
"Well, how was it?' I ask eagerly, when he reaches me.
He shrugs nonchalantly, but there is a small smile on his face. "It was okay.'
"What were the teachers like? Did you make any new friends?'
That little smile of his conveys more than words will, but I bombard him with questions anyway, relieved that his first day seems to have gone well.
Pulling open the back door of the car, he throws his bag and his lunch box on to the rear seat before getting into the front. While I'm rounding the car, I sneak a glance at the gates, and sure enough Victoria and her little group are still watching us.
I get in beside Jacob and turn to him. "So, do I get any details?'
"They set me up with a buddy to show me around. His name's Andy, he's pretty cool," he says, with the tiny hint of a smile curving his lips.
"That's great," I enthuse.
This spurs him on and he talks all the way home about how easy the work was, how cool the playground is and his new friend Andy. For the first time today, I start to relax.
When I had arrived home earlier, Charlie had been waiting for me downstairs, and we talked. Though he's still anxious about the situation, he accepted my reassurances that I'm not taking anything for granted. I'm more than aware that this is only the beginning of a very difficult journey. We argued over my decision to take Jacob to Adventureland to meet Edward on Saturday. Charlie thinks I should arrange for him come here, but I know things will get too ugly if I let that happen. In the end we had to agree to disagree, but he has made it more than clear he is unhappy with the situation.
Charlie is still on the sofa when Jacob and I arrive home. Jacob rushes to him to tell him he had a good day, while Charlie beams at him proudly. Jacob's one complaint is that he has homework, but he cheers up instantly when Charlie offers to help him. Deciding to leave them to it, I head to the kitchen to start dinner. I called earlier and invited Sue, Seth and Leah to join us, so I set about cooking for more people than I've ever cooked for in my life.
We rarely use the big table that sits in the corner of the living room, it's too big for two – hell, it's too big for three. God knows why my parents bought it. Charlie mostly uses it for sitting his guns on when he's cleaning them.
When our guests arrive, Jacob is as high as a kite. He happily helps Seth set the table, a task he often grumbles about at home, while Leah helps me in the kitchen. Sue and Charlie sit out on the porch talking, and I'm glad to be released from the disapproving glances he keeps shooting my way. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even realise he's doing it, but they are fraying my nerves just the same.
After the stress of the last couple days, it almost feels like there is a party atmosphere in the house. The sound of chattering voices and laughter fills the air, and it's music to my ears.
With dinner served, I sit at the table, surveying the scene before me. Charlie and Sue chat quietly at the opposite end of the table from me, while Jacob is holding court with Leah and Seth, his voice growing loud with enthusiasm as he describes his first day at school, and tells them all about our fishing trip. He gesticulates wildly while he talks, and more than once I have to remind him to be careful not to knock his glass of milk over.
Busy mealtimes like this aren't something I've been given the opportunity to experience often. I enjoyed it a handful of times with the Cullens, but never since leaving Forks. Mostly, it's been Jacob and I on our own. Even at Christmas and Thanksgiving, the most company we've ever had has been Renee and Phil, although even they have been gone for some of those holidays.
Looking around the table, I realise just how shut off I've been for the past ten years. Caught unaware by my emotions, a dull ache weighs on my heart when I begin to wonder what life might have been like for Jacob and me, had things turned out differently – If I'd let someone in to share our lives with us.
Brushing those thoughts aside, I take in the way Jacob's eyes are shining with pure, unadulterated pleasure. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention. My eyes roam to Charlie, and I'm pleased to see him looking relaxed and happy as he smiles gently while Sue talks. I decide it's better to enjoy these moments rather than worrying over things we might, or might not have missed.
Midway through the meal there is a heavy knock on the door. Charlie goes to see who it is, and moments later I stand up to greet the tall, dark-haired man he brings into the room with him.
"Oh! You're eating," the man says apologetically, looking embarrassed as he glances around the table. He turns to Charlie. "I'm sorry, I should've called first. I just stopped by to see how you're doing."
Charlie claps him on the back. "Don't worry about it. Join us?" He glances at me. "There's some left, Bells, right?"
I move around the table towards them. "Yes, I'll go get you a plate." I stop in front of him and offer him my hand, which he shakes firmly. "I'm Bella, by the way." I smile.
"Sorry!" Charlie sputters. "Sam, this is my girl Bella, and that bundle of trouble over there is my grandson, Jacob." Sam looks around the room, while Charlie completes the introduction and I note that he seems to already know the Clearwaters. "Bella, this is Sam Uley. He's the new Chief."
Sam turns back to us then. "You're still the Chief, Charlie, I'm just standing in," he says solemnly.
As I prepare a plate of food for Sam, I watch as he sits down, smiling shyly at Leah. He is strikingly handsome with smooth dark skin, silky black hair, and a blindingly bright smile.
Everybody is chatting again when I come back to the table, and two things strike me instantly: Leah and Sam are definitely making googly eyes at each other, and Jacob's nose is definitely out of joint.
Just as we are finishing the meal, I notice that Charlie is starting to wilt. Though he's making a grand show of enjoying himself, his heavy eyelids are giving him away. He and Sam sit on the sofa talking about work for a bit, while the rest of us clear up.
"It's been really nice having you all over," I say to Leah and Sue, while putting the last of the dishes away. "We've enjoyed it."
Jacob's squeals of delight filter in from outside, making me smile. Looking through the window, I see Seth twirling him on the tire swing, and I'm relieved that Jacob seems to be in better spirits. He went a bit quiet during dinner when he was watching Sam and Leah chatting. In fact, his eyes almost blazed bright green for a moment.
At that thought, the image of Edward's green eyes pops into my head. I close my eyes and quickly realize it's futile, because the image is in my mind's eye. Thankfully, Sue responds and I focus on her instead.
"Thank you for having us," she says, smiling. "But I think Charlie is getting a bit tired, so I'll just take some coffee in and suggest to Sam that maybe he's heard enough about work for one day."
She leaves the room, and I seize the opportunity to grill Leah.
"So, you and Sam, huh?" I grin, waggling my eyebrows at her.
The deep blush that blooms on her cheeks both surprises and delights me. I'd never have thought she was even capable of blushing. She's normally so tough and matter of fact about everything.
"Shh!" She hisses, flicking the dish cloth at me with a good-natured smile. "We've only been on one date. I don't want to make a big deal out of it yet." Despite her mild annoyance, her eyes are sparkling with pleasure when she speaks.
"But is it a big deal?"
She giggles like a school girl, but then stops herself, cursing. "For fuck's sake, I'm twenty-five years old and he makes me feel like a teenager again." She beams at me.
"Did he know you would be here tonight?" I ask the most obvious question.
"No, I haven't spoken to him today. It was a coincidence."
"A happy coincidence, judging by the way you too were behaving," I point out, grinning at her.
Her smile fades. "Really? Were we being obvious?"
Chuckling, I tell her how even Jacob noticed. She looks worried though, which confuses me but before I can ask she lowers her voice even further and explains.
"I've known Sam for years. He used to go out with my cousin Emily. I just don't want the whole family to get wind of this till I know where it's going."
"But if he and Emily aren't together anymore, what's the problem?"
She frowns a little. "It's not really a major deal. He dumped her six months ago and she's still a little bitter about it. If this is going anywhere, I'd rather tell her myself than have her hear it from someone else."
"Do you think it will go somewhere?"
A slow, knowing grin spreads across her face. "He's wonderful; we talked for hours on the phone the other night. And he's so cute!"
"Cute?" I say, a little too loud apparently, because it earns me another flick of the dish cloth. "He's gorgeous." I elaborate, lowering my voice conspiratorially.
She seems to drift off into dreamland for a moment or two before snapping herself out of it and focusing on me. "Oh God, here I am going on about this when I haven't even asked you how it went today." She glances out of the window at Jacob. "With Edward."
"Wow!" I deadpan. "Talk about back to earth with a thump. I'd much rather talk about you and Sam."
I tell her the bare bones of it in the few minutes we have before Sue comes in and announces that Charlie is going to bed. Jacob grumbles when they all leave, but he is also yawning, which negates his argument that it's still early.
After Charlie goes to bed, I set about putting a load of laundry on. I'm just loading the machine when the telephone rings, so I yell for Jacob to answer it. He brings me the phone seconds later.
"It's Mike," he says, in a sarcastic sing-song voice while making a derisive face when he says Mike's name.
Irritated by his facetiousness, I glare at him as I take the receiver and cover it with my hand. "Go get dressed for bed," I order. "And lose the attitude. I'll be up soon to say goodnight."
I wait till he's gone before I address Mike. "Hi, Mike."
"Hi, I just thought I'd give you a call to see how things went today," he says, sounding a little hesitant. "You don't mind me calling, do you?"
"Of course I don't mind! I was going to call you later anyway," I assure him. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. He was civil, so that was... good."
"How about Jacob? How did he do at school today? Did he enjoy it?"
Since we both have to get our kids organised for bed, we don't have a lot of time to talk, so our conversation is brief, and he ends it by wishing me luck for Saturday.
After I hang up, I go to make sure Jacob is ready for bed and find him lying on top of it, with earphones jammed over his ears. He is ignoring me. I can tell by the way his eyelids flicker slightly, he knows I've come into the room and he isn't ready to talk. The fact that the cable for the phones is not connected to the stereo, but dangling from the end of his bed, is another dead giveaway. I wait patiently. Sure enough, less than a minute passes and one eye pops open.
Pretending I don't know he isn't listening to anything, I motion for him to take the headphones off. He complies with a click of his tongue, and then he sits up and folds his arms across his chest.
"So are you going to tell me what's bugging you?" I ask with a sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"Nothing's bugging me." He scowls.
"Then why were you so rude about Mike calling?"
He pouts. "I'm sorry," he drawls, not sounding the least bit sincere.
"Jacob, if you don't tell me what's on your mind, I can't talk it over with you." I sigh in exasperation. "Don't you like Mike?"
"I do," he argues. "But he's around all the time."
With everything that's happening right now, I'm not surprised that he's feeling a little territorial.
Pulling him close, I curl my arm around him and rest my chin on his head. "Mike's just my friend, sweetie– "I remember his recent request for me to stop calling him sweetie when I feel him stiffen. "Jacob," I correct. "He's been very nice to us because that's what friends do for each other."
He pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm sorry."
"I know, sweetie it's..." I notice his pointed look. "Oh! I don't know if I'll ever get used to not being able to call you that." I laugh, squeezing him tight.
He laughs too, his bad mood forgotten, and I kiss his head while he scrambles beneath the covers.
Lying awake in bed, propped up on my pillows, I watch the breaking dawn through the gap in my curtains. This is, without doubt, one of the biggest days in Jacob's life – arguably mine too – and yet it starts just like any other. I've hardly slept a wink. I've spent the night staring at the moonlight, watching the sky start to change colour and now the horizon is slowly turning orange. I wonder how I'll feel, and more importantly, how Jacob will be feeling, by the time this newborn sun dies tonight.
Charlie's footsteps are light as he pads downstairs, he paused as he passed our room, but thankfully he didn't come in. We argued again yesterday about me taking Jacob to meet Edward alone, but I stood my ground, and now he has decided to go into work today. Since he's surplus to requirements, his words, not mine.
I should go speak to him, but there are only so many confrontations a person can take in one day – Christ, in one lifetime! And I certainly feel like I've had my fair share of those in the past few days.
The other day, Edward said that I'm the one holding all the cards, but am I really? I have no idea what to expect today, and yet I feel like everyone is looking to me to lead the way. Going to Adventureland was the best I could come up with. I really didn't relish the thought of the three of us sitting alone somewhere quiet, not knowing how to have a conversation. Or worse still, Edward and I getting sucked into another argument while Jacob wonders what the hell is going on.
It's barely six a.m., and already I'm wishing this day was over. I'm not even out of bed yet! Like a coward, I wait till Charlie leaves before getting up. I creep around the bed, careful not to wake Jacob, and slip out of the room. It took him forever to drop off last night. His mood swings were incredible, one minute he was all excited– as if it were Christmas Eve, and the next he looked like he normally does when he's in the dentist's waiting room.
I feel sick to my stomach for him – sick with guilt that I led him to this moment, and sick with fear that it will all go horribly wrong. It seems to me like there are more things in this fucked up scenario that could go wrong than right – not the least of which being that Jacob is so keen for this that he's wide open to having his little heart broken –and there is not a damn thing I can do to control it.
Pushing these tormenting thoughts aside, I head downstairs and help myself to a mug of the coffee Charlie made. After drinking it, I rinse the mug and check the time. Only fifteen minutes have passed. Showering and dressing kills another thirty. I spend another ten minutes laying out clothes for Jacob, before I'm back at the table sipping coffee.
And, as is the law, as soon as Jacob wakes up and the day begins for real, a strong wave of fatigue courses through me, and I feel like I could sleep at last.
He meanders into the kitchen, his shoulders sagging and his face still weary and sleep crumpled. He looks at me with bleary eyes when I say good morning and merely curves his lips up a little in weak smile. He flops into the chair, and then lays his head on the table.
I feel a little guilty right now for being thankful that he stayed up so late last night. If he hadn't, he would have bounded down the stairs an hour ago with another round of questions that I'd find impossible to answer. My eyes roam over his tired face and I smile. He'll perk up soon enough, but for now, this is about as much as I can handle.
"What time is it?" he asks, his voice muffled by the arm in front of his face.
"It's only just past eight, we've got plenty time," I tell him, preempting his next question.
Three hours later we're on the road and Jacob is fidgeting like he has ants in his pants. Though I'm still convinced he wants to do this, his enthusiasm has waned with the imminent arrival of the moment he has been anticipating for so long.
Surprisingly, he hasn't said much all morning, and my attempts to draw him out of himself have been met with a clicking tongue and rolling eyes. He wriggles again and huffs loudly while pulling at his collar and craning his neck.
"I told you not to wear that shirt," I say, shooting him a sidelong glance. "The label irritates your neck."
He'd turned his nose up at the jeans and sweater I'd laid out for him earlier, choosing instead to wear the baseball shirt that Phil bought him before we left.
"I tried to cut it off, remember?" I remind him gently. "But the stitching is still ragged, that's what's scratching."
"Stupid stitching," he complains, throwing himself back in the seat.
"Maybe they sell shirts in Adventureland. I'll buy you one when we get there," I offer.
"I bet they'll be lame!"
I bite my tongue and count to ten in my head before turning the radio up a little louder. He wriggles about in the seat some more and then finally settles down. We arrive at Adventureland a good half-hour before we are due to meet Edward. Parking at the far end of the lot, I kill the engine and turn to Jacob.
"How are you feeling?" I ask. He shrugs as if it's no big deal, but I've never seen him so tense. "Okay, I'll rephrase that, what are you thinking?"
His eyes are fixed firmly downwards, staring at his hands as he twists them in his lap. He shrugs again and when I cover his hands with mine, he looks up into my eyes. His are shimmering with the beginnings of tears.
"Oh baby!" I gasp, wrestling us free from our seatbelts and pulling him close.
"I've changed my mind," he says, his voice trembling. "I don't want to meet him. Can we go home?"
I smooth my fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face so I can kiss his forehead. "What's made you change your mind?" Once again he shrugs, so I probe further. "Is it because you're scared?"
His head jerks up, and I move back so I can look at him properly. His eyes are brimming with uncertainty, and his mouth is curved downwards in a deep frown.
"It's okay to be scared, Jacob," I tell him. "In fact, it's perfectly normal. You've been waiting for this moment for a while, and now that it's here, you're just feeling a little overwhelmed by it."
His frown deepens. "What does overwhelmed mean?"
I bite my lip to stifle the little chuckle that tries to escape. "It just means that you're feeling so many things right now, it's making you feel scared. You don't have to be scared though, sweetie, I'm here with you."
He inhales a deep breath and nods grimly.
"We still have twenty minutes. There's no rush, let's just wait and see how you feel in a little while... and if you still don't want to do this, then that's okay." I suggest.
He agrees to this, and smiles weakly at me. I look out of the window and spot Edward immediately; he's over by the gates at the main entrance and he's pretty hard to miss. He's pacing a little, and in the few seconds since I spotted him, he's already looked at his watch twice.
I compare him to the other men passing in casual jeans and jackets. Edward is wearing a crisp white shirt with the top button undone, navy suit pants and a thick wool jacket. Where everyone else is wearing sneakers, he's wearing shiny leather shoes that are completely unsuitable for traipsing around a theme park. He couldn't have looked more out of place if he'd turned up on a beach wearing a ski-suit.
Swallowing hard, I look down at Jacob. "He's already here," I say, and I can't be sure whether it's the words or the timbre of my voice, but Jacob's eyes widen as he looks up at me.
"Where?" he asks.
I somehow manage to give him a reassuring smile. "Do you see the really nervous guy standing by the gates? White shirt, blue pants." Jacob glances over, but as if the sight might burn his eyes, his gaze snaps back to me. "That's Edward," I tell him. He looks again, tentatively. "I guess you're not the only one who's nervous." I say, squeezing his shoulder.
Leaning forward, Jacob studies him through the windshield. Maybe having this opportunity to observe from afar will help calm him, or at least factor a little in his decision whether to go through with this or not. I dread to think what will happen if he refuses to meet Edward, but Jacob's feelings are paramount. If he doesn't want to leave this car then I won't make him.
"Do you really think he's nervous?" Jacob asks, without taking his eyes off him.
"See the way he's pacing up and down like that... and look! He's checked his watch now about three times already," I point out, as Edward looks up and glances around. Jacob jumps back in his seat as if he's afraid to be spotted. "He's looking a little nervous if you ask me." I add, glancing at him.
Stealthily leaning forward again, Jacob watches, transfixed. "He doesn't look like I thought he'd look," he whispers quietly, almost as if he's talking to himself.
"What did you think he'd look like?" I can't help but ask.
"I thought he'd look like me."
This makes me laugh, and his eyes snap to mine in annoyance. I bite my lip and apologise. "I'm sorry, sw... Jacob, I'm only laughing because he does look like you, well, you look like him."
He turns his attention back to Edward, his expression filled with dubiety. I wait a few more minutes, but when Jacob shows no signs of making a decision one way or the other, I decide to take the initiative.
"Do you want me to go and explain to him that you're not ready today?" I ask. "We can do it another day."
He blinks up at me. "No, I'm okay... I'm ready."
"You sure?"
He nods, so we get out of the car. Walking to his side I hold my hand out to him. He glances at it and grimaces.
"Oh right, too old to hold my hand, got it!" I say lightly, which earns me a small smile.
"And don't call me sweetie," he whispers, even though we are still the full length of the lot away from Edward.
As we walk towards him, I try to gauge his mood as best as I can with only his body language to go on. He jams his hands into his pockets, rocks back on his heels, puffing his cheeks out a little when he blows out a sharp breath. He checks his watch, brushes his fingers through his hair and then starts to look around. His eyes land on us. He freezes.
His eyes drop and his sharp green gaze fixes on Jacob, whose steps are slowing the closer we get. Wanting to throw my arm across Jacob's shoulder, but knowing he'd hate that, I content myself with brushing my hand across his arm while I quietly ask him if he's okay.
He doesn't answer. He and Edward are now staring intently at each other, and I can almost feel the nervous energy rolling off Jacob.
"Hello, Edward," I say, a little too formally when we reach him.
His eyes flick up to mine briefly. "Hi," he responds a little absentmindedly. His voice is low and slightly husky.
"Jacob, this is Edward," I say, cringing inwardly because it all seems so weirdly formal.
Jacob looks like he might throw up at any given moment, and as his eyes roam over Edward's face, he looks a little downcast. His eyes flick to mine for guidance, and I nod slightly to encourage him. Turning back to Edward, he extends his hand the same way he did when he first met Charlie.
Like Charlie, this at first impresses Edward, but as he accepts Jacob's handshake, I see a hint of disappointment on his face. The same flicker that I saw in Jacob's moments before.
It seems this is not the first meeting they'd envisioned, they might both have been hoping for something more, but this is no Hollywood movie. They were never going to go running into each other's arms.
"It's good to finally meet you," Edward says, and then looks at me with a nervous grimace.
I keep my expression neutral while Jacob says hello. Then the expected awkward silence descends upon us.
Edward stares at Jacob for a few moments, as if he's taking in every tiny detail of his face, before blinking a few times. "Oh, I just remembered, I brought you something," he says, handing Jacob a small package I hadn't noticed he was carrying.
"What is it?" Jacob asks, taking it from him and staring at it.
"Open it and see," Edward coaxes. But as soon as Jacob starts ripping the paper open, a shadow of hesitation sweeps across his face.
Pulling the paper apart, Jacob reveals a green, blue and silver shirt, his eyes flick up to me and then he hands me the paper while he shakes the shirt out and holds it up.
"It's a baseball shirt... Mariners," Edward explains, watching Jacob inspect the shirt. "Um... the Seattle Mariners. Your...uh... mom..." He looks to me. "Said you like baseball."
Still inspecting the shirt, Jacob speaks without looking at Edward. "What's all the writing?"
"Oh... I got the team to sign it for you," Edward replies.
Feeling a ripple of annoyance at Edward's words, I bite my lip to prevent me from saying something in front of Jacob. I don't want Edward thinking that he can just ply Jacob with fancy gifts to win him over, but now is not the right time to bring it up.
Jacob looks up surprised. "Are you a player, like Phil?"
Edward chuckles, looking a little embarrassed. "No, I just...I pulled a few strings."
Jacob turns the collar inside out, fishes the label out and rubs it against his cheek. "The label's soft," he announces, turning to me. "Can I put it on now?"
Edward's brows knit together and he looks inquisitively at me.
"He has a thing about labels," I explain. "He doesn't like the feel of them, they irritate his skin. Some are okay though." I gesture towards Jacob, still rubbing the label on his cheek.
Before I can stop him, Jacob shrugs out of his jacket and pulls his shirt off before wriggling into the new one. He looks down at himself and smiles, glancing alternately at Edward and me.
"How do I look?"
Edward gets in there first. "You look great."
"Are they any good?" Jacob enquires, looking at the team emblem, "The Mariners?"
Edwards laugh is entirely too hearty for that question, and I imagine it's borne of relief more than anything else. "No, Jacob, they're not very good at all."
"Then why'd you buy me their shirt."
Edward sobers, and rubs his hand across the back of his neck. "I thought maybe you'd like to start collecting them." He points to the signatures. "That's why I had it signed; I didn't actually think you'd wear it."
A fierce blush suddenly ignites Jacob's cheeks. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't–" he begins, clutching at the hem as if he's going to rip the shirt off.
"No, no, don't take it off. It's yours. If you want to wear it, that's even better," Edward babbles, looking a little panic stricken.
I watch their exchange in amazement. In under five minutes Jacob has brought out a little bit of the Edward I remember, and though I still feel like today is going to be an ordeal, it has given me hope that maybe Jacob will enjoy it.
"Okay, so are we going in?" Edward asks, glancing at both Jacob and me, while jerking his thumb towards the main entrance.
Jacob spots the bathrooms next to the main entrance, and asks if he can use them first before we go in. He scurries off, still looking down at his new shirt.
When he disappears through the door, Edward turns to me. "He's–"
"He–" I start to speak at the same time, and we both stop, gesturing for the other to continue.
The shrill ring of his cell phone interrupts us. He looks at me apologetically as he fishes it out of his pocket. I feel like I could kiss the person who is calling him right now, because I could use a few moments to gather my wits.
"Cullen!" he barks into the phone, turning his back on me.
I take a few steps away from him towards the bathrooms.
"Jesus Christ, James, I asked you to do it!" he growls. "No, I told you I'm out of town this weekend, that's why I left this with you... James! I briefed you on this yesterday goddammit!... you better deal with this, or you won't have a job come Monday morning. What's the point of having a dog if I have to bark myself?"
The sharp snap of the cell phone shutting alerts me that the call is over. The way he spoke to this James was appalling, and I find it difficult to hide my disgust when he reaches me.
Jacob reappears and I turn to Edward. "Maybe you should turn that off." I say disdainfully. "I don't want Jacob hearing you speak to people like that."
He quickly glances in the direction of the bathrooms. Jacob has just emerged and is heading towards us. Edward looks back to me, narrows his eyes, and then flipping open his cell he switches it off.
"Can we go now?" Jacob asks.
And I really wish he meant home.
Thank you for reading
Kat