After starting to assemble the garlic-laden marinade for the chicken, Bella decided it would be better to triple the recipe and use up the large pack of chicken she'd bought. While she was enjoying the process of preparing her own food, she was also realizing just how tired she still was. She wasn't sure she would be up to cooking like this the next day, and it would be good to have leftovers to freeze for Charlie's lunches, certainly better than whatever crap he'd been eating. She was seriously tempted to throw out the Hungry-Man dinners she had found in the freezer.

It took the better part of the afternoon to put everything together, but by the time she was done, the chicken was roasting in the oven, the German potato salad was being kept warm, the sauced green beans were finished, and the chocolate cheesecake was cooling in the fridge, helping to keep a six-pack of Charlie's favourite beer company. If Charlie were to be any way softened via his stomach, Bella had made heroic efforts on that front. Now she just needed a nap before he got home.

Charlie's "Hey, Bells!" surprised her from the door. "I picked up some—" He stopped as he walked into the kitchen. "Wow, that smells amazing!" In his arms was a large cardboard box full of Chinese food containers.

"Hi," Bella said, giving him a hug. "Um, well, I guess we'll be well fed for the next week." She peered into the box. She could tell some of her favourites were there. "Dang, I should have called you to let you know I was making dinner."

Charlie shook his head. "Leftovers are good, if there are any."

Bella looked at Charlie's physique. Surely he wasn't eating that much. She shoved the thought aside, anxious to tell him her news. She figured it was better to get her announcement over with quickly. "So, I've invited someone to dinner."

"Oh?"

"Yes, um, Edward."

All of Charlie's warmth disappeared. "I was pretty damn clear about Edward, Bella."

"You were. And you were pretty prejudiced, too." She really didn't want to pick a fight with Charlie, but she wasn't going to back down either.

"Prejudiced?" Charlie said, his voice rising slightly. "When he left, he very nearly destroyed you. My God, he left you in the damn woods, lost, so that I had to launch a fricking search party. Have you forgotten that?"

"He didn't lose me in the woods, Dad. I did that all on my own."

"Well, he certainly didn't take care to prevent that, and after—"

"I remember what I was like, after. That was me, not him."

Charlie snorted. "Because he was so good for you, yes, that you took off to save him, no matter the cost to yourself—"

"He was suicidal, Dad. "

"Yes, he sounds like a tremendously stable person to have in a recovering drug addict's life."

"I love him. I saved him, and he saved me. And for the record, one major depressive episode does not make a person unstable. I was depressed for months. Would you call me unstable? "

"Is it really so awful that I don't want you in a relationship from which you regularly require saving?"

Bella took a deep breath. She could not deny the truth of his statement. "He's in my life. I'd like you to have a chance to talk with him. He won't be here regularly, Dad, if you don't want that, but I'd like to be able to live my life in my own home—if this is going to be my home." She hated to imply the threat, but it was true. She and Edward were bound by far more than their own feelings though those alone were enough to join them together.

Charlie eyed her. He was normally a very calm person. He needed to be for his line of work, but she knew her request was testing him in the extreme. She'd just come home, after all, and dropped more than one bombshell in his lap.

"Sure, he can come. We can have a nice friendly catch-up with the Blacks here, too."

"The Blacks?" Her gut clenched.

"Yeah." Charlie jerked his head towards the box filled with Chinese food. "I didn't expect you to do any cooking tonight, but I thought you'd want to see your friend, you know, Jacob? And Billy, who is like family, at least to me."

Bella gave him a more level look than she felt. "No memory loss on who my friends are, but thanks for the reminder." She was wondering if Edward needed to come down with a sudden illness. Given what Jacob had told her about the natural enmity between vampires and werewolves, she didn't want to put them together at her dinner table. Her heart began to race, envisioning violent altercations. God, she hadn't even talked to Jacob yet. There were things he needed to know that she hadn't been able to put in her letter—

"Did something happen with you and Jake?" Charlie asked, his voice soft.

"He didn't write me back," Bella said, "but we didn't exactly part on the best terms."

"What do you mean?"

She bit her lip. She wasn't sure if Charlie was supposed to know that Jacob had been there when she decided to leave.

The rumble of a familiar engine saved her from having to reply. "Well, that's them, so I guess now's your time to patch things up or figure stuff out."

Double shit.

She glanced at her watch. It was half past five. Edward was due at six. Would there even be time to call him, or would he know, seeing as he was likely nearby? Possibly not—

"Hello!" came Billy's cheerful voice. There was a rapping on the door.

"Coming!" Charlie called back.

Bella closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then stepped out of the kitchen to face the Blacks.

Jacob didn't even bother with a hello, but like Charlie had the day before, wrapped her up in a bear hug. He whispered, "I thought you were dead."

"Hi. I wrote to you. Dead people don't do that," she whispered, pulling back awkwardly from his embrace. Most of her discomfort was from the proximity of his body, but the rest was from the smell. It was like hugging a furnace . . . a really foul-smelling furnace.

When Jacob released Bella, it seemed that he had the same olfactory opinion of her, his nose wrinkled in distaste. His head swivelled, gaze scanning the house's interior.

Yes, he would smell that Esme had been here. She recalled how he'd reacted to Alice's scent outside Bella's house months ago.

"Welcome home, Bella. Glad to have you back." Billy's smile was genuine though its corners wilted when he caught the look on Jacob's face. He recovered his composure quickly. "Geez, Charlie, talk about putting the girl to work. The place looks great, though. You must've busted a gut to get the place cleaned up after this slob has been slacking the last three months." Billy thumped Charlie on the back with his hand.

Her father had never been very attentive to the house's cleanliness or lack thereof, but now Charlie's eyes widened, taking in the space. He looked horrified. "Bella—"

Before he could speak, Bella spared him the guilt. "Esme came by and did a lot of work. It wasn't much with the two of us."

"Still," Charlie said, "you shouldn't have taken on so much, plus the cooking."

"I think Bella can handle some housecleaning, Charlie. She doesn't look like she's about to fall apart on you. C'mon, let's let the kids catch up. You and I have a game to watch."

"Why don't we go sit outside?" Jacob suggested. He lifted his chin towards the back yard.

"Sure," Bella said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She eyed the table, which she'd set for three. "Just one second." She walked to the silverware drawer and pulled out two more place settings, putting them on the counter for when she returned from talking with Jacob. Jacob's gaze followed her and then returned quickly to her face. "You expecting someone else?"

"Oh yeah," Charlie said, coming out of the kitchen with two beers, "Edward Cullen's joining us for dinner."

Bella's face flushed.

Jacob looked like he wanted to snap something in half.

Bella could relate. "Let's talk outside," she said and then marched towards the back door, not caring that it slammed behind her.

When Jacob emerged from the house, his voice was soft and low. "I wasn't joking about thinking you were dead."

"I'm obviously alive. I'd kinda thought you would have gotten that when I wrote to you. Several times. You know, the letters I sent that you never acknowledged?"

"Sorry, I didn't want to have my letters read by your dead boyfriend."

This was not how she'd hoped to be reunited with her best friend. "He's . . ." There was no point in fighting with Jacob over this. She didn't want to argue with him. "It wasn't . . . like that while I was gone."

"Then what was it like living with a vampire? Every letter reeked of it."

Her eyes watered. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything. Instead, she shook her head. She couldn't handle crying in front of him.

"I didn't expect to have to stay," she said.

"Then why did you?"

"It wasn't her choice," Edward said. He stood some ten feet away, downwind of them, and Jacob jumped up from the lounger where he had just settled himself. His body seemed to have grown even more in the months she'd been away, and now its significant mass was coiled in readiness.

In contrast, Edward remained perfectly still, only his eyes moving between Bella and Jacob, who were only feet apart. His head was tilted slightly in his familiar listening pose.

"It wasn't mine either, and no, no one tried to change her," he said, clearly answering a thought from Jacob.

"Stop talking," Bella said, not sure how much more Edward would disclose. Had he already said too much? Did Jacob remember being told about Edward's gift?

Jacob looked to Bella, his eyebrows nudged together. "So, I guess the mindreading part is true. How about the rest?"

Bella clamped her jaw shut, fighting her frustration with Edward. This was her story to tell. And Jake was her friend. Why had Edward even chosen to appear right now? Regardless, the cat was out of the bag, at least on these two points. She nodded curtly.

"Bella," Edward said, his voice still conveying that even and calm cadence, "would you mind stepping away from Jacob, either towards the treeline or inside the house?"

The hair rose on the back of her neck as she recalled what Jacob had told her. Would they fight? Was it that simple, their being together equalled a fight, like with Laurent?

"No," she said. "I'm not leaving you two alone."

"You don't need to leave us alone, but I'd prefer if you were farther away from Jacob. He's not fully in control right now."

"My control is just fine," Jacob said, though the inflection with which he produced the words belied this.

Edward looked pointedly at Jacob's trembling hand, Bella's gaze following.

Jacob balled the offending appendage into a fist, but Bella had seen the cause of Edward's concern. Her own words from a few days before came back to her as she remembered her apology to him. I disregarded your feelings about my physical safety. Was she doing that now?

Looking between the two men in front of her, Bella decided that the evening would offer enough naturally occurring confrontations without her throwing preventable ones into the mix. She loved both of them, each in a different way, and she believed they loved her. There had to be a way to diffuse this situation.

In deference to Edward's concern, but not wanting to appear afraid of Jacob, Bella took a couple of steps towards the back door as if she just wanted to return to the house.

"I should head back inside. I'm sorry you guys are meeting for the first time this way. It wasn't what I wanted, but we're kind of stuck with it now. Can we just start over?" She looked at Edward. "Charlie will probably expect you to come to the front door."

He nodded at this. She couldn't help thinking he almost looked proud of her.

To both of them, she said, "Please, this dinner is going to be awkward enough, so could you both just . . . get along?"

"Sure," Jacob said, his eyes still riveted on Edward, "whatever you want, Bella."

Once she had reached the top of the back steps, she saw Edward turn to leave the yard, so she assumed Jacob had calmed down enough to be following her. She turned her mind back to the question of Edward's abrupt arrival. Still a little rattled by his and Jacob's tense interaction, she had calmed herself enough to realize Edward would have been nearby, as he'd promised he would be. When she stepped into the kitchen, she went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer, popping off the cap and taking a swig.

Charlie chose this moment to wander back into the room, eyes widening. "You—do we really need to have this conversation, given what you just told me yesterday?"

She supposed that drinking alcohol in front of her father was probably not the best move, given her professed recovery from a drug addiction.

"Sorry," she said. "Wasn't thinking. Drinking is legal in Italy at a much younger age." She put the beer down. "I swear I haven't developed a problem with alcohol. It just—yeah." She held out the bottle to him. "Here."

Charlie took the bottle, then picked up a bowl of chips off the counter just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Bella said.

"No," Charlie said, putting the items down again and eyeing her. "I think I need to get this one."

She followed him at a distance, wondering exactly what kind of posturing she'd witness now. Jacob entered through the back door, pausing by her. "Your mind-reading boyfriend is a jerk."

"Thanks, Jake. It's great to have you here," she said stepping away.

She flinched when his hand shot out to grab her arm. "This is the guy that abandoned you, Bella." His voice was low and urgent.

She yanked her arm away, her heart thumping wildly just as Charlie opened the door.

Bella's legs began to ache.

Oh no, she thought. Not now. Not now! She wasn't due until tomorrow at the earliest.

"Bella, are you okay?" Jacob asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Her eyes met Edward's over her father's shoulder. He was engaged in a dangerously quiet conversation with Charlie. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Charlie's hands rested on the door frame as he leaned forward, blocking Edward's entrance.

The ache in her legs spread from her calves through her knees to her thighs. What the hell? she thought. It normally moved so slowly. It was as if her withdrawal symptoms had amped themselves up tenfold.

"Maybe you should sit down," Jake said.

Charlie heard this and turned his head. If he'd planned on holding Edward at the door, he gave up on this now, giving a gruff "Come in" to Edward and then walking quickly towards Bella.

He spoke very quietly. "Do you need to go lie down or do anything else?"

Bella felt like an animal, encircled by predators. The three men were too close.

"I've got your kit in my car," Edward said.

"What kit?" Jacob asked.

"Jake, go get your dad a fresh beer, okay?" Charlie said.

"He's fine," Jake said. "He hasn't—"

"Just go, son," Charlie said, dismissing him with his words as much as with his eyes.

Bella was trying not to let her hands tremble visibly. She tucked them under her thighs, but she was pretty sure the rest of her was shaking. It was hard to tell.

"Why the hell is a kid like you carrying around controlled substances in your car?" Charlie growled at Edward.

"I don't normally," Edward replied evenly. "My father asked me to bring it over. He was going to give it to Bella himself when he dropped me off tonight, but he was unexpectedly called to the hospital."

Charlie looked pulled between disappointment and relief. "Well, I guess you'd better get it, then," he muttered.

Edward locked eyes with Bella. "I'll be right back."

She understood him. He knew what was happening. Whatever the kit was, it was a cover for getting her what her body was really craving.

Charlie smoothed Bella's hair back from her forehead and then pulled her wrist from under her, frowning as he found her pulse. His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

When Edward reappeared, a small black leather kit in hand, Charlie took it from him. "How long since you had anything? Does Dr. Cullen have you on some sort of protocol?" he asked her.

And just as Esme had advised, she answered truthfully. "Usually every forty-eight hours."

"And how long's it been?"

"Just under that," she muttered, gritting her teeth. Her symptoms were becoming unbearable.

"You sure?" Charlie asked. He unzipped the case and checked the small ampule clipped inside by the syringe.

"Yes." She looked at Edward, pleading with her eyes. While he might not have Charlie's good opinion, he was at least a second source of the same information. If Charlie really doubted them, she wouldn't put it past him to call Carlisle.

"It was forty-five hours, precisely. Carlisle asked me for the time when he wrote it in his log," Edward said.

"Okay," Charlie said. "Let's go to the kitchen."

"No," Bella said. Whatever was in the syringe, she was sure it was safe, but there was no way she was going to let her father see the faded bruises on her arms.

Charlie lifted his eyebrows.

"Edward can help me, but I don't want you to see this, Dad." She hoped the tremor in her voice was enough to convince him. She didn't need to manufacture shame. It was naturally there in plentiful amounts.

Some distance away, she saw Jacob watching this drama unfold while Billy seemed to have developed a stiff neck, staring straight ahead at the television.

"I'd prefer to do this upstairs, privately," she said.

Charlie nodded. "I'll help you upstairs."

His help was necessary. The dizziness had returned in full force, and she felt like she was drunk, wobbling up each step , then sliding gratefully down to sit on the end of her bed.

"I'm just downstairs if you need anything." He gave Edward a dark look as he left, purposefully leaving the door open a wide crack.

"What's in that?" she asked as Edward opened the case.

"A vitamin shot." Edward whispered it so quietly, she almost had to read his lips. He pushed the door closed silently, then filled the syringe.

"That isn't what I need right now, Edward." Her eyes were watering. Why was this happening so quickly?

"I know," he said. "But this will help, too. Trust me."

And because she did trust him, she turned her head, wincing in anticipation of the pain. There was only the cold rub of alcohol and then the barest suggestion of a sting.

"How'd you do that without me feeling it?"

"Practice," he said, "and mind reading. It helps to know when to use a needle. You learn to figure out the cues between the mind and the body. It translates well across patients."

She'd known he'd gone to medical school, but she didn't think he'd practiced at all.

His voice dropped to that near-silent whisper again. "Your withdrawal symptoms are pretty strong right now, aren't they?"

"Intense, and moving really fast." Her stomach seemed to be threatening a revolt of the most unpleasant kind.

"I think the treatment will need to be quick then, too."

That meant that he would have to kiss her. She hated that what Demetri had done forced yet another intimacy on her that she could barely stomach—even though it was Edward, even though she loved him. Some peripheral part of her mind reminded her how grateful she was that it was Edward doing this and not one of the other Cullens.

"I understand." Her eyes continued to water.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I know this isn't what you want."

"Maybe you should just apply for a Canadian passport," she muttered.

"Very funny. Already have one." He chuckled a little before becoming serious again. "Are you ready?" He was half off the bed, poised to lean over her.

She nodded.

His fingers touched her chin, and it was by force of will that she didn't flinch though her body wanted to. His lips found hers next, and she made her hands be still at her sides so they didn't try to shove him back as he brushed his tongue inside her lips.

This time, the pleasure that gathered inside felt like it was rolling back and forth in her chest, first knocking against her breastbone and then the back of her ribs. From there the feeling sank, settling into her lower abdomen and finally trailing down her legs. After this most bizarre of kisses continued for a time, the sound of her moan startled her and possibly Edward as he pulled away. But no, he continued his work at her neck, focusing on the area by the lymph nodes.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, sitting down a little ways away from her on the bed.

She blinked at him, abruptly and incredibly distracted by his face. Shades of things she hadn't perceived before jumped out at her, patches of his skin brighter in one spot than others, the angle of his nose more precise, his eyes a more subtle colour of honey than she'd noticed. Yes, she thought to herself. It was sharper. His eyes were much lighter than the day before. Her gaze swept over the very elegant lines of his face, down to his Adam's apple, and then to the tiny exposed vee of his chest, where one equally tiny curl of hair suggested the presence of more. The bright clarity seemed to fade here, like the room's light was dimming slightly. She glanced up at the light fixture, expecting to see it flicker, but it shone steadily.

"Huh," she began and then stopped there, not sure what came next.

Edward grinned, leaning close to whisper, "Well, you sound a tiny bit stoned."

Despite herself, she snorted and giggled. "That could make this evening a lot easier."

"Hmm," he said.

Did she feel stoned? She certainly felt . . . good. Better. She thought of what had just transpired between them, giggling and snorting again. "This would have been really awkward with another one of your family members."

It seemed like Edward was humouring her when he forced a smile. She wasn't so far gone from her senses that she couldn't recall his reasons for not letting any of them near her. An image of Edward poised to strike in the throne room flickered through her mind.

"Never mind," she mumbled, still feeling slightly loopy though it was fading.

Edward glanced towards the door. "Just so you know, Jacob can hear us."

All her faculties sobered with this statement. "Does he know?" she mouthed.

Edward shook his head, his voice a bare whisper again. "He thinks something like what Charlie does."

It was more of a relief than she expected. "Okay." She let herself process this. It was a scant dignity to have this privacy.

Edward glanced at the small black container now open on the bed, laid flat like a book. "I'll need to teach you how to administer the shots yourself."

"Why?" The idea was alarming on multiple fronts.

"I don't think you'll ever need to be able to administer one to yourself, but you should know how, just in case."

She exhaled slowly, nerves abating. Yes, it made sense, she supposed, part of establishing a needed cover. She thought of Esme's words, which led to thoughts of the grocery store and then dinner. Glancing at her watch, she knew her careful work in the kitchen would soon be for naught if no one intervened quickly. "Can someone take the chicken out of the oven?"

Edward smiled. "Jacob's on it." His voice lowered again. "But you should lie down for a little, if only for appearance's sake." He stood as if to leave.

"You're not going down there alone." She thought of how both Charlie and Jacob had acted towards him.

"Yes, I am. I'm going to go and help finish setting the table, which I will do very, very slowly. This will give your father the opportunity he needs to corner me in the kitchen and ask all the awkward questions he wants and say all the things he's wanted to say for the last few months. Then, I'll politely suggest he help you come downstairs, because you should eat."

"That sounds very logical."

"This will also keep him from worrying about what he thinks is actually going on up here."

"Which is?"

Edward lifted an eyebrow.

Right. "Well, he's kinda on point there," she said, thinking about the way Edward had kissed her.

Edward bit his lip, suppressing a smile. He whispered, "Charlie's not worried about me kissing you."

Oh. Even though it was a normal worry for a parent to have, normalcy felt like something as remote from her life as Pluto was to Earth. "You probably should go downstairs, then." Given the stresses the day had already presented, she didn't need to add the awkwardness of that particular conversation with her father to her mounting pile of awkwardness that was waiting for her.

She also didn't want Jacob to think something was amiss. An abrupt memory of Paul exploding out of himself into his wolf form and then Jacob doing the same flashed in her mind. She acknowledged again to herself why Edward had seemed so concerned in the back yard earlier. Jacob could hear what they were talking about now, but still—he'd been so angry when she'd left for Italy, and he'd been even angrier with Edward tonight. Her heart began to race again.

"I'll be fine," she assured Edward, watching him nod and slip out the door.

Even knowing how calm Edward would be and that he would do nothing deliberate to provoke Jacob, Bella struggled to remain in her room, twitching at every unanticipated sound. But all that bubbled up the poorly insulated stairs was the low murmur of men's voices from which she could pluck no words beyond the occasional name. The sound was soothing, and it occurred to her that she'd missed having such sounds around her in Volterra. While there had been the energy of people at their business in the street, there had not been the regular and peaceful patterns of household conversation floating around her when she read or studied in her room. And with that thought, another realization clicked: Edward's efforts earlier in the yard had been in the interest of peace, not possessiveness. He'd been giving Jacob time to acclimate to him.

And here she'd been worried it was some mark of . . . what? Jealousy?

How brittle her trust was, she mused, but then again, it was bound to be. Given how spectacularly possessive Demetri had been, she feared the same attitude in other men, even one who loved her but still had a tendency to be overprotective.

When she heard Charlie's "I'll go check on her, Jake," she tried to look like she was resting, but it was difficult. She settled for leaning back against the headboard, legs wrapped in her arms.

"You look way better. How're you feeling?"

"Okay, now."

"Dinner's ready. It looks amazing, by the way. You really put your all into that. Thank you."

She smiled. It had felt so good to cook. "I hope it tastes as good as it smells."

It did, and everyone acted as if they were simply joining together for dinner, making appreciative noises at appropriate moments. Bella speculated that the emergence of her withdrawal symptoms had made for something of a truce between the several parties, and for this, she was grateful. There would be tough conversations to come between her and Charlie as well as between her and Jacob.

After dinner, Bella stood up to begin clearing.

"Take a seat. We'll get it," Charlie said.

She watched with some wonder as all four men stood and cleared the table. Edward winked at her as he carried away the salad bowl.

"I think we'll call it a night," Billy said, coming to pause by Bella, whispering as he hugged her. "I'm glad you're home though." He dropped his voice even lower to add, "And I'm especially glad that you're still you."

It was then that Jacob's comment made sense. Of course. He'd thought that she—

"Thanks for coming up, Billy," Charlie said.

"Hard not to like coming here with that kind of cooking. You made some amazing food. Thank you, Bella." Then he turned and called to Jacob, "C'mon, let's head out."

"Bye, Bella," Jake said. He came to stand close and looked for a moment as if he wanted to repeat the hug from earlier, but he stopped, his gaze flicking towards Edward, standing a few feet away. "See ya around."

From her seat at the table, she watched Jacob help his father down the front steps.

When Charlie came back inside, he came directly to Bella. "You need to see a doctor, pronto. Those symptoms are not normal."

"Actually, my dad should be home now. He said it was all right if Bella wants to come by anytime," Edward said.

"That's kind of your dad, but—"

"I'll go see him tonight," Bella said.

"Bella—"

"I think seeing someone tonight would be best, and Carlisle's familiar with my history." She thought about how to make this easier for Charlie. "Is my truck working?"

"My mom or I will drive you home," Edward said.

It was blatantly apparent that Charlie didn't like Edward taking her, but he couldn't drive her after he'd been drinking, and he didn't want her driving herself. She watched him wrestle with the knowledge that she'd be seeing a doctor, albeit with Edward. "Your truck isn't insured right now, Bells. We can see if it starts up tomorrow and then get new tags on it. But tonight, if you wouldn't mind, Edward, it would be good for your dad to check her over. Make sure he has a good listen to her heart."

At the door, it was quiet, and she heard Charlie's words to Edward. "I haven't forgiven you for what you did to her, and it will be so much more than my lack of forgiveness you'll have to contend with if you hurt her again."

She heard Edward's reply, too. "I understand."

And so it was with this tenuous truce between Edward and Charlie that she left her father's house for the Cullens', still trying to make sense of the withdrawal symptoms that had arisen so abruptly and figuring out how to make peace next with Jacob Black.

A/N for 2020-09-11: Many thanks to Chayasara and Eeyorefan12 for keeping up the good fight on beta-ing this story while I've stuck my head back into my teaching job. For now, Friday will be the posting day for this story.

- Erin

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.