Chapter Three
Dinner was amazing. Maybe their new house guest had been a cook in her life, because wow. Simply, wow. She could make a simple pasta and chicken roast taste like ambrosia. Bella wondered how this was even possible and she wished that the woman could show her how so she could recreate the effects. Their satisfied groans and moans filled the air as the woman watched, happy, that they enjoyed her food.
When dinner was cleared, they had eaten to capacity. She got up and cleared the dishes as Charlie unbuttoned his pants button to make space for all he had eaten. Both of them could use a nice nap or some lazing around to digest this food, but Charlie had a pad and pen with him, going to take down some notes.
He was going to interview the woman about whatever she remembered of her past, hoping that he would get something from her he had been unable to get out before. "I know we went over this at the station and the hospital, but have you remembered anything? Anything new since then?"
The woman looked sad to shake her head no and Charlie sighed, tapping his pen on the pad. "Do you know if anyone could have done this to you?"
The woman gave a helpless shrug.
Charlie frowned, stroking his mustache. "Well, let's hope something turns up. I'll keep combing through the databases for any missing reports of you, okay?"
The woman nodded her head, seeming to mouth thank you. Charlie got up, sleepy from overeating. "Bella will help you set up the couch. I'm afraid we don't have a guest room."
The woman did not seem to put out by this, instead, getting up and following after Bella where Bella kept spare linens in the closet.
That was yesterday. Bella woke up the next morning, for the first couple of minutes having forgotten entirely that there was a stranger in her house, and then she smelled the heavenly scent of bacon and her mind began computing the fact that Bella was in bed, so she hadn't cooked it. Neither could Charlie cook, which only meant that someone else had.
Bella lumbered down the stairs, still half awake, and raking a hand through messy brown hair that she hadn't bothered to brush yet. Charlie was at the table, chomping down on bacon, eggs, and toast, a mug of coffee wafting steam into the air.
"Good morning Bells," Charlie greeted. "Help yourself to some food. I've got to go to work today thanks to Blecher forgetting to file his forms right." It was a Saturday which normally was an off day for Charlie. Forks was a small town so there normally wasn't much need for overtime but to be fair they could use the extra money to finally get some repairs around here.
Bella takes the ready plate on her table and piles on the stacks of bacon, eggs and toast. The woman emerges from the kitchen with a cup of coffee for Bella. "Oh, thanks but I don't drink."
The woman made an expression of enlightenment and kept the cup for herself, sitting there and just drinking it while Bella and her father enjoyed breakfast. "Did you eat already?" Bella asked because she would feel bad if they woman hadn't. A quick nod confirmed the woman had ate already so Bella was able to enjoy her meal.
Once breakfast was over, Charlie was out the door, grabbing his belt and on his way. Bella helped clear the dishes while the woman helped dry them. She looked eager to help and when Bella was done with the dishes, and had moved on to empty the buckets for it had finally stopped heavily pouring and was only drizzling lightly, the woman followed her example and began to move the buckets too.
Bella was curious about her. Did the woman even remember her own name? Charlie had said she didn't, but Bella felt wrong not calling the woman by any name at all. "What can I call you?" Bella asked as she drained the buckets that had been around the house to catch the rain. Since it was no longer raining an ocean, they no longer needed them. The woman helped her, heaving up two full buckets like they weighed nothing while Bella struggled with the one, bracing it against her hip to get some more leverage.
She didn't expect an answer as she opened up the window and tipped the contents of the bucket up. She turned around and saw the woman chewing on the inside of her cheek contemplatively. She opened her mouth and made motions with her lips. She was saying a name. Bella squinted and tried to lip read.
"Hope?" Bella questioned, after staring like an idiot at her mouth. To be fair, the woman had a pleasant looking mouth, with full lips colored red, almost as if they were painted. It was distracting.
Hope nodded her head.
"That's a nice name," Bella said because she didn't know what else to. She opened up the window and lifted the bucket up with both hands, before tipping it against the windowsill and pouring it out into the soggy dirty. Everything was wet and damp and it stank of old house. Bella really wished Charlie had the money to fix this place up. It was depressing. Bella finished emptying the bucket and stepped out of the way so Hope could empty hers. She did so easily and then they set the buckets in under the kitchen sink, for they were of no use now.
"Thanks, Hope," Bella said and Hope smiled because that was all she could do. Her smile was brilliant, making the apples of her cheek stand out and eyes sparkle. She was beautiful, Bella thought not for the last time as she looked away and cleared her throat. Who could ever want to harm such a woman?
"You wanna watch TV?" Bella asked because she didn't know what Hope liked to do for fun. It wasn't like Bella could offer much in the way of it.
Hope thought this over and then nodded her head. She followed Bella to the couch, where Bella dug the remote from between the flat cushions and then flicked on the TV. It was staticky and Bella cleared her throat, embarrassed by the state of her house.
"Sorry, we don't have much," Bella shrugged to convey her helplessness in the matter, but stopped to look at Hope's face when the blonde touched her shoulder in understanding. The touch made Bella tingle again and her throat dry. What the heck was going on with her body's reactions? She hadn't felt this way ever since her bad break up with Tyler. Who was a big asshole about it by the way.
Hope sat down on the couch, patting the cushion next to her to invite Bella to watch. Bella shook her head no. "I have homework."
Hope patted the cushion a bit more, smiling as she did so. There was just something about her smile that made Bella feel extremely unsure of herself. Flustered, even. "Maybe next time," she mumbled and nearly ran out the room, going up the stairs two at a time and closing the door behind her, heart thumping in her chest.
She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts together. Then, she pulled out her desk chair and began her school work. She found she could only get halfway before she got distracted once more by thoughts of the stranger downstairs. As she thought about her, about Hope's unfortunate circumstances, she heard a large clatter. Worried that Hope might have hurt herself on this ramshackled house, she went downstairs, calling out for her. "Hope?"
When she got down, she found Hope with a screwdriver in one hand and working on the TV. It seemed she had just finished because she closed the compartment in the back of the device and then pushed it into it's normal spot. Then, she turned it on. Bella's eyes opened wide. The broadcast was clear. Almost HD.
How had Hope done that?
"Wow, you're really good. How did you fix it?" Bella marveled as Hope smiled once more. She wiggled her fingers, as if flexing their magical ability on Bella.
"Did you repair stuff in your past life? Were you a repairwoman?" Bella questioned, thinking maybe this could be a big clue. Hope tapped her chin with a finger, looking up in thought. Then she shook her head no.
Hm, seemed like another dead end.
"Well, that's fine. Maybe your memories will come back to you eventually. I'll come downstairs to help with dinner. You have to show me how you make your dishes, they are exquisite!" Even such a simple breakfast had been amazing.
Hope nodded her head in agreement, and then Bella went back up to finish her work. It was seven by the time she went down. Charlie had texted he might be running a bit late because of a complicated case at the department and for Bella not to wait up on dinner. So, she entered the living room where Hope was on the couch, watching the pristine TV and braiding her long blonde hair.
She jumped up in excitement when she saw Bella was down. She hurriedly finished the braid and then urged Bella to come to the kitchen. Inside Bella saw that Hope had laid out the ingredients needed for dinner. It looked that they would be making fish.
Hope rolled up the sleeves of Bella's borrowed flannel and washed her hands in the sink, before she dried them on a dish towel and began the process of cutting some veggies. Bella didn't know what to do, so she stood by the counter, watching the way Hope cut the greens expertly. Her movements were so smooth and confident. Bella wished she was that confident. She was so absorbed in the rhythmic chopping of the knife on the board that she didn't notice when Hope indicated for Bella to mix seasoning and oil together in the bowl to make a nice batter. Bella rolled up her own sleeves and watched Hope dump the correct measurement of ingredients inside before she gave Bella the spoon to start stirring and walked away to start heating the pan.
The batter didn't look all that appealing but it smelled great which meant it would taste great. As she mixed quickly, it began to froth a bit. Clearly, she was doing something wrong. Hope's hand grasped Bella's slowing down her mixing. Slower, she mouthed and Bella swallowed deeply, trying to focus on the mixture and not the way Hope standing behind her felt electrifying. She was acutely aware of how warm Hope's hand was on hers, how close her chest was to brushing Bella's back, and how nice her scent was. It was sweet but not overly so. Like a garden on a warm summer day with birds chirping overhead.
Then Hope's hand was gone, and satisfied with Bella's mixing she moved away to go back to frying the veggies that would be the base for the fish.
A frazzled Bella tries to concentrate on the cooking and not on Hope. When Charlie comes back home, dinner is ready and amazing as always. Now that Bella knows the recipe she wants to try it on her own. She and Charlie groan their way through their meals, thanking Hope profusely for the meal, before Charlie questions if Hope recalls anything.
The woman shakes her head no and Charlie doesn't press, going to watch the game before he tucks in for the night. Bella decides to go watch one of her favorite shows on her laptop before she has to go to sleep for school tomorrow. Hope stays downstairs and Bella tries to not think about what she's doing or if Bella should invite her to watch the show with her. But she refrains from doing so. Because there had been a weird moment in the kitchen and Bella feels her stomach twist up each time she thinks on it and she doesn't know what this is. So she doesn't want to push it.
Bella's sojourn into sleep is ruined when a loud crash wakes her up. She bolts up straight in bed, turning on her lamp. She knows she didn't imagine that, and the way Charlie's door creaks open lets her know he heard it too. The two of them meet in the hallway before going down the stairs, he walking in front of Bella in a protective manner. He gets to the landing first and fumbles with the switch on the wall, turning it on. He finds Hope having flipped the couch over and shaking by it, with her knees up to her chest.
"What happened?" he asks, eyes searching the room for an intruder.
Bella kneels by Hope, reaching out a hand to comfort her when the woman throws herself unexpectedly at Bella and hugs her. Her whole body is shaking and she's taking shuddering breaths that sound painful. Bella relaxes into the hug, rubbing Hope's back as she starts to calm down. Charlie is looking out the window to check the property, finding nothing there. Then he goes to check all the house locks.
Bella figures out what has bothered Hope before he does. "Was it nightmares?"
Hope nods her head, face buried in Bella's neck.
"Bad nightmares?"
Another nod accompanied by a whimper.
"Were they about your past life?"
Hope hesitates before she answers, and then she shrugs.
"Do you remember them?"
Hope shakes her head no.
"No one's been here," Charlie reports when he comes back in. "Thought it might be some punk who had it out for Hope coming here, but no, we're all good. Thankfully."
"She had a nightmare," Bella explains craning her head awkwardly because Hope is still clinging tightly to her.
"Oh. Was it that bad?" he asks, bushy brows rising up in question.
"Yea. I can stay with her until she calms down. You go to sleep dad."
"You have school tomorrow."
"It's fine. I get up later than you do."
He looks down at her before he looks up. "Alright then. But don't stay up too late." And then he's slowly going up the stairs as if he thinks he should be down with them. Once his bedroom door closes, Hope untangles from Bella, sniffling and rubbing at the spare tears coming from her eyes. They seems to shine, like gems, and Bella blinks her eyes, surely seeing things. Before she can check, the tears are gone and Hope is up, helping to righten the couch. Bella stands to offer her help but Hope is stronger than she looks because she flips it back up all by herself. Bella can't help but watch the biceps flex as she does so, the thin night top Bella let her borrow, showing off her skin.
"Um, are you okay now?" Bella asks and Hope nods her head, picking up the pillows and blankets she dropped.
"You know..." Bella clears her throat, "when I used to have bad nightmares, watching TV would help me go back to sleep. Would you like that? Some TV?"
Hope nodded her head. Bella got the remote and turned it on, making sure the volume was low. Hope had remade her bed and was laying down on it. "Would you like me to...stay with you?"
Hope shook her head no, blonde tresses falling into her face.
"Okay, I'll be upstairs if you need anything." The look of sheer horror on Hope's face before has stayed with Bella and she wonders, what terrible things had happened to her that made her react that way? Bella just hopes she'll be fine. Because she hates the thought of anything bad having happened to Hope even if she doesn't know her all that well.