Chapter Four: Bonfire

It was early Friday morning when Mollie woke up after her second night in the hospital. She wasn't a particularly heavy sleeper and the sounds of cars pulling into the parking lot just outside were enough to jolt her awake. Moving cautiously, Mollie eased out of the bed, grabbing the bedside table for support. Her crutches were against the opposite wall by the door, maybe five steps away, but Mollie was confident she could make it. She did, and once the crutches were in place she maneuvered herself over to the window. It slid open easily.

Outside the air was chilly and the sky just beginning to lighten. It was snowing again, not unusual for late November in Forks, and a light dusting covered the parking lot below. Dr. Cullen's sleek black Mercedes pulled into a corner space just visible from the edge of the window. Mollie watched Carlisle climb out of his car, pause to wipe futilely at the ice already building on the windshield, and converse with the matronly nurse parked next to him. The small lot gradually filled with cars as the sun rose.

Kelly Bean checked on Mollie at 8 AM and immediately cleared her for discharge. "I hate to kick you out so soon, but we need to free up a bed for someone who actually needs it," said Dr. Bean as she walked Mollie down a long hallway lined with doors leading out into deserted double rooms. "And anyway, your mom wants you back. Can't think why, but she does."

Helen Ember was waiting impatiently at the main desk. She had to be at work soon; she was running late as it was. Helen signed through a stack of papers without reading any of it, then she drove Mollie home.

Immediately she was back in her small car and off to work, although not before issuing orders to her daughter. "Don't go to school, don't go outside, and stay by the phone. I'm calling every hour, on the hour, and if you don't pick up, I'm coming right home." Mollie listened patiently and nodded in all the appropriate places.

She spent the morning bored, moving from activity to activity and still not knowing what to do with herself. She'd never really cared for practicing piano anyway, but even reading was a chore. Mollie hated having so much free time. There was no fun in snatching a few minutes with a book when you had an open invitation to read whatever you liked for hours and hours on end.

10:00 rolled around and she took a break from leafing through her chem textbook to call Jess. No one picked up the phone at Jess's house, as she'd expected, and she left a message for her friend letting her know she couldn't go shopping on Saturday. She felt mildly guilty for bailing on the trip, but she hadn't really wanted to go in the first place.

Helen returned home briefly for lunch. Mollie assured her that yes, she was resting, and yes, her ankle felt fine. No, she hadn't gone back into the woods. Yes, she still felt capable of going to the bonfire.

"Well, take your phone with you, at least," Helen said doubtfully before returning to work. When she was gone, Mollie collapsed haphazardly on the living room couch and flipped through the TV channels, never stopping on any one for longer than ten minutes. Finally Mollie gave up and dragged herself up the stairs to get ready for the bonfire.

What did you wear to a bonfire on the beach? Mollie wasn't sure. She eventually decided on a parka, jeans, and heavy insulated boots, reasoning that even if she missed the dress code she at least wouldn't freeze. Mollie rushed out of her room, swinging back at the door to grab her camera, which she attached to her pocket with a thin cord.

She wasn't sure why she was rushing. Embry wouldn't come around until a quarter to seven; It was barely twenty past six now. Mollie went into her bathroom and messed with her hair. She put it up, then took it down, then brought it back up, and finally tied it into her usual French braid. Twisting right, then left, Mollie sighed at her reflection. Her face was defined by her wide-set cheekbones, made more prominent by her braid. She looked terribly small in the large winter coat. The cast on her ankle meant she could only wear one boot, which looked rather silly.

But there was some quality in her reflection which Mollie liked, something inherently Mollie-ish about her burnished copper face and the wispy black strands framing it.

Mollie jumped as she heard a car rolling up the street. She hobbled out of the bathroom and down the stairs as quickly as her crutches could take her. The first ring of the doorbell chimed out as Mollie hit the bottom stair. She was nearly at the door when it opened of its own accord.

"You really should remember to lock this thing," rumbled Embry, staring bemusedly at the doorknob. He looked up and grinned as Mollie neared him. "You ready?"

"Uh-huh." Mollie followed him out the door. He'd parked in the driveway rather than the street, which Mollie was thankful for as it meant fewer steps. Embry didn't allow Mollie to take those few steps, however. As soon as she was past the door frame he swung her up easily into his arms and carried her to his truck, holding her with a single arm as he opened the door, and then deposited her in the shotgun seat. "Didn't want you to hurt your ankle worse," he said as explanation, blushing red around his ears. If the heat in her cheeks was any indication, Mollie was blushing just as furiously.

Embry ducked away and jogged to the driver's side. He swung himself into the seat next to Mollie. "So what do you think?" he asked, grinning. "About the car, I mean."

"It's beautiful," said Mollie. "Old and solid."

"1967," Embry said proudly. "Jake and I bought it from a man in Hoquiam who bought it new. We fixed it up, replaced the engine with something a bit more powerful . . ." Embry drove slowly out of the driveway and down the street before kicking the truck a gear higher and taking off.

"I don't know much about cars," admitted Mollie. "But I can tell you and Jake did a fantastic job with this one." Embry looked pleased.

"How's your foot?" he asked after a minute. They were speeding down La Push road at a speed Mollie suspected was highly illegal, but very enjoyable.

"It's . . . ok. It doesn't hurt much," Mollie said honestly. "But I really hate not having two working feet."

"Any reason in particular?"

"It makes me feel heavy and grounded," Mollie answered slowly. She shrugged and bit her bottom lip. "I guess that's a little nonsensical, but sometimes I feel like I'm sinking into the ground and I'll never be able to get back up. I hate losing limbs," she finished. "I don't like being that helpless, utterly unable to run. But then, it's only temporary, so I get through it."

The drive was shorter than Mollie expected and they soon pulled up in the parking lot of first beach. The lot had room for only a dozen cars, with mossy logs as curb stops. The snow hadn't fallen as heavily in La Push as it had in Forks. Only a thin layer covered the outlying areas of the lot. The beach was rocky and muddy, but free of any snow cover. First Beach was framed by tall sea cliffs on both sides, the road and lot cutting a narrow path between them. The waves were icy gray, a shade or three darker than the clouded sky. It was nearly deserted, but for a slowly coalescing group on the far south side.

"Do you like it?" Embry asked wistfully as he helped her out of the car. "I grew up on this beach with Jake and Quil—Quil's another friend. It's pretty . . . pretty significant to La Push."

They watched the crashing waves together silently for a minute, before Embry gently steered Mollie toward the beach and they walked together to the group on the south side.

"Kim comes here all the time," said Embry. "She sits on the cliffs and just stares at the ocean for hours. Sometimes she paints. It's a bit weird, because Kim's never quiet except when she's here." He grasped Mollie's waist in his oversized hands and lifted her over a row of squashed, muddy plants, setting her down gently on the other side. "I'll show you her paintings sometime. They're pretty good."

The beach wasn't all that big, but at Mollie's pace they were a long time crossing it. Embry didn't seem to mind. He didn't mention if he could hear her heartbeat racing every time he picked her up to lift her over a rocky or uneven spot, either.

The small group on the beach was now a large group, more people adding to it every minute. They set up folding tables, piled them with food, and cleaned up a preexisting bonfire pit, lining it with rocks. Mollie realized as she neared them that she recognized several people from the group of Embry's friends who had visited her in the hospital the day before. As Mollie watched, two baby-faced teenage boys broke away from the main party. They ran toward the waves, stripping off their shirts as they went, and dived into the water, shouting gleefully all the way.

"That's got to be pretty cold."

"Freezing," said Embry.

"I suppose you do it too?" Mollie asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Who, me?" Embry asked innocently. "I could catch a cold . . . yeah, I do it too. It's more fun to dive from the cliffs, though."

"That sounds exhilarating. And dangerous."

"Oh, it is, both. It's a major rush. I'll take you sometime if you want."

"Do I look like the sort of girl who dives off cliffs? I'll watch you jump, though."

Embry laughed. "You do look like that sort of girl, but I get your point. Probably best if you don't. You're kind of breakable."

"You have no idea," muttered Mollie.

"Tell me."

"I have a genetic bone condition no one's been able to treat successfully. It's incredibly rare; the only other case I know of is a little girl in Ohio. My bones are just fragile. I've broken this same ankle three times," Mollie said, pointing at her bulky cast. "When I was younger, my mom traveled with me seeing doctors who thought they could help. We found a few medications that alleviated some of the symptoms. I took part in a study at Stanford once. They put me on a drug called betaine, which helps more than anything else I've ever been on, but I still break bones all the time.

"Well, my mom and I lived in a rural area by Wentworth lake. If I broke a bone my mom had to drive me to Forks or Port Angeles to find a hospital. That scared my mom, being that far away from a doctor. So two years ago we moved to Forks to be near the hospital. Dr. Cullen's been incredibly helpful."

"Well, he's the best," said Embry.

"I thought you and your friends didn't like him?"

"You can tell?"

"It's pretty obvious."

"Oh. There was a . . . misunderstanding a few years ago, and a lot of people on the rez still don't like the Cullens. But he is the best. He saved Jake's life a few years ago after a bad accident."

"That sounds very in character for him," Mollie said confidently. "Saving lives is kind of Dr. Cullen's thing."

Embry laughed briefly. "Is it?"

"Definitely."

He asked seriously, now, "Did he save yours?"

"Not exactly. My bone problem's not that severe. But he's really helped. I break bones all the time. I'd be in a much worse place if he wasn't here to set them."

"You don't sound bitter at all about the bone thing."

"Oh, I am," Mollie admitted. "I'm well aware life screwed me over in that respect. I broke my collarbone when I was fourteen, playing volleyball. I had to quit sports after that one."

Mollie and Embry slowed as they reached the group, which now numbered well over two dozen. "C'mon," said Embry, grabbing Mollie's hand. "I'll introduce you to Sue."

"Who's Sue?"

"Sue Clearwater, Seth's mom. She's sort of our team mom."

"Oh. Are you all on a sports team, you and your friends?"

"Not exactly," Embry said, laughing quietly. "But something similar." He led her over to one of the folding tables stacked with hundreds of hot dogs and buns. A middle-aged woman, presumably Sue, with the same russet skin and Quileute features as everyone there was sorting the packages into piles.

"How many people are coming?" Mollie whispered to Embry, wide-eyed at the amount of food. Large crowds weren't really Mollie's thing.

Sue heard her and looked up, smiling warmly. "Everyone who's coming is already here, dear. Some of these people just eat like you wouldn't believe." She glared with mock-severity at Embry, who grinned bashfully at Mollie.

The hot dogs and buns on the table were neatly sorted into twenty or so piles, the last and largest pushed off to the side. Mollie watched, fascinated, as Sue pulled a sticky note pad from her pocket and slapped a sticky on each of the first nineteen piles. Only one word, a name, was written on each sticky—Seth, Sam, Jake, Leah, Nick, and of course, Embry.

"My pile's smaller than Seth's," said a disgruntled female voice. "But then, we all know who you like best, mom." Mollie looked left and saw a beautiful Quileute woman walking confidently towards the table. She was unusually tall and lean, all taut rounded muscles and powerful chiseled lines.

"Oh, shut up, Leah," said Embry, rolling his eyes at the woman. "And find a new line. You use that one every bonfire whether your pile's smaller or not."

"It is this time," she said, cracking a faint smile. "Your pile's smaller than Seth's too. You should join my protest."

Embry laughed too loudly and swung an arm around Mollie's shoulder protectively. "What do you want, Leah?"

She paused. "Just to meet your friend, of course. You brought her, right?"

"She's right in front of you," Embry said, his arm tightening.

"Ah."

"Mollie, this is Leah, a friend," Embry said, addressing the girl shrinking into his side.

"Hi," Mollie squeaked.

"I'm glad I got to meet you," said Leah, her faint smile growing. "It's not every day we get a new . . . friend."

"Yeah, well, we've got other people to meet, right, Mollie? So we'll just . . ." Embry trailed off as he dragged Mollie away from the other woman. When they were a safe distance away he released his grip on her shoulder.

"Are you and Leah really friends?" Mollie asked, rubbing the place where his fingers had dug into her shoulder blade.

"Yeah," Embry answered. "But our relationship changed a lot recently, and I guess Leah's figuring out where she stands with me now."

"Where does she stand?" Mollie asked.

"Behind you, always," Embry said seriously. That scared Mollie a bit, the intensity in his eyes. Four days, that was all—four days, and maybe she was in too deep already. A part of her liked it though, and that scared her even more.

"Maybe you could introduce me to the others," she said abruptly.

"Of course," he said, startled. "We can start with Sam and Emily . . . or we can start with Kim, and it'll probably be the latter because she's beelining to us now and I doubt she'll let you go."

Kim's version of beelining was hampered by her crutches, but she was bearing down on them remarkably fast nonetheless, Jared and an unfamiliar Quileute man following at her heels. "You made it!" she exclaimed.

"And we match," said Mollie, with a nod at the two identical sets of crutches.

"Kim push you into doing that?" asked the unfamiliar man teasingly. "Peer pressure is a dangerous thing, you know. Hey, if Kim jumped off a bridge . . ."

"Jared would follow her in and like it," finished another unfamiliar face who had just joined the group.

"I wouldn't let her jump in the first place," said Jared sulkily. The entire group burst into laughter at his suspicious look at Kim. There was an easy camaraderie between them which had somehow widened and swallowed Mollie whole, inviting her into their hearts and lives.

"That's Jake," said Embry, pointing to the first man, "and that's Quil. We all work together at the shop." It was obvious that Embry desperately hoped she would like his friends, and Mollie found them all too easy to like. Jake and Quil were both tall and muscular like Embry, with similar features. So similar, in fact, that they might have been brothers. Mollie mentioned this.

"We think of ourselves as brothers," said Jake. His voice was deep, warm, and powerful, obviously accustomed to command. He was the sort of man who attracted followers like a light in the darkness attracts moths. Mollie swiped a quick glance at Embry and wondered if he was one of those moths.

More people joined the small group and Mollie was duly introduced. They all seemed to know her name already, and were eager to see the face attached to it. Mollie had never felt so instantly accepted as she did with these people. It wasn't that she'd felt like an outsider in other places, but this was so natural she couldn't help believing she belonged.

There were just over two dozen people at the bonfire; Mollie talked to all of them. First were Sam Uley and his wife, the very pregnant Emily Uley, who had two small children and whom everyone treated with great respect. After them was darkly handsome Paul Lahote, who's eyes sized Mollie up in a way that made her very uncomfortable. He didn't have a girlfriend with him, and Embry told Mollie after he left that he spent most of his time lazing around Sam and Emily's place, eating all their food. Next came a pair of older men, paraplegic Billy Black, Jake's father, and Old Quil, whose face split into a great, wobbling smile when he shook her hand. A rush of young teenage boys followed. They were eager and energetic, and didn't go away until Embry shoved them off.

"They're very young for their age," Mollie said. She found them endearing rather than annoying as Embry did.

"How old do you think they are?" Embry asked guardedly.

"Maybe sixteen, or a bit older."

"They're all twelve."

"Except for Nick!" added Kim.

"Right," groaned Embry. "Like ickle Nicky would let me forget he's an entire year older." How Nick overheard from a hundred feet away, Mollie didn't know, but he scowled and flipped Embry the bird anyway.

The food laid out on the tables by Sue was soon demolished, and Mollie quickly understood the logic of the labeled piles. The last, unlabeled pile was for the eight or nine people without a labeled stack, and it was the last one gone. Mollie caught Embry staring mournfully after he'd finished his tenth hot dog, but no one caught Jake stealing stealthily from it when Sue's back was turned.

Two hours later, the sky was pitch black and the air cold, but the clouds above were slowly dispersing and a cascade of brilliant stars appeared. The flickering light of the bonfire made it a bit harder to see them, but there were still thousands visible. Mollie had never lived in a city large enough that the artificial lights interfered with the stars; she wasn't sure she could. At the very least she would miss them horribly.

Embry's warm hand snaked into hers, holding tightly. She leaned into him and his other arm wrapped around her waist. "It's about time we go sit by the bonfire," he said softly. "They'll begin telling the legends in a few minutes."

"Legends?" Mollie wondered.

"The histories of our people."

"I'm not Quileute."

"If you say so," he chuckled. "But you might still enjoy the legends. They're fascinating, especially if you've never heard them before. Right, Kim?"

"Just because I didn't grow up with my parents telling me Dask'iya would eat me if I didn't take out the garbage . . ." Kim grumbled. "My parents are too modern for that."

"I had nightmares about Dask'iya," reflected one of the younger boys. "But then I saw The Return of the King in 2003 and Dask'iya turned into Shelob."

"Dask'iya is an ogress, who kidnaps and eats little Quileute children," Embry said in response to Mollie's unspoken question. "She's kind of the boogeyman." He guided Mollie over to a log near the fire, which was ten feet high and bright green. The others quickly found places as well. Jake wheeled Billy and his chair over to a gap in the logs, where Old Quil and Sue Clearwater also sat in folding chairs. The eerily colored firelight cast odd, flickering shadows on their faces.

In the circle, the silence was absolute but not oppressive. Then Billy began to speak.

"In the beginning, there was only Q'wati.

"It was Q'wati the creator who made the earth and filled it with people. Q'wati was father to the Hoh and Makah and many others.

"But always special to his heart were the Quileute. These he made last, and he made them from the wolf, Kwolí, and his mate. Thus the Quileutes and the wolves are long-sundered brothers and it is forbidden for the Quileutes to kill them. Q'wati told the Quileute to be brave and strong.

"Then Q'wati left his people and moved on to other corners of his world. The Quileute were plagued by famine. Q'wati returned to teach them how to cultivate the earth and fish in the streams. The Quileute were no longer hungry. These means of gathering food Q'wati taught also to the Makah and Hoh, and they grew in number and strength until they far surpassed the Quileute.

"The Makah and Hoh had ever been the enemies of the Quileute, and the Quileute feared them. They begged Q'wati for aid. He would not destroy the Makah and Hoh, as they asked, for Q'wati loved all his children. But he granted the Quileute something else. Q'wati made the Quileute spirit warriors, who could abandon their bodies and travel in the spirit world, and Kaheleha was the first spirit chief. So the Quileutes defended their land and people for many generations.

"Kaheleha was the first spirit chief, but Taha Aki was the last. After the traitor Utlapa stole the body of the great chief, after Taha Aki and the wolf became one, no Quileute ever again entered the spirit world. Now they were shapeshifters. Each son of Taha Aki had a spirit wolf too, and their sons, and their son's sons as well. They used their spirit wolves to protect their people. Taha Aki himself lived for the time of three men and married three times. All three wives he loved dearly, but the third was different. In her he found his spirit mate and they grew old together and had many sons.

"That was before the Cold Ones came.

"They were two in number, a man and a woman, both as pale as snow and beautiful. They spoke an incomprehensible language; they brought with them a burning, sickly stench; they were blood-drinkers and enemies.

"The spirit wolves of the Quileutes found the Cold Man first, surrounded by the corpses of women of the Makah tribe. They killed him, but sustained heavy losses. Yaha Uta, the oldest son of the third wife, was the only one to return; he carried with him the mangled corpse of the Cold Man. The pieces, which were as hard as granite, were burned."

The circle was silent save for the occasional crackle of the fire when Billy paused. He didn't speak again for a minute, until a little voice demanded, "More stories, Mr. Billy!" The tension was broken as everyone laughed. The speaker was a little girl sitting on Quil's lap. She couldn't have been more than six or seven and was entirely adorable if also incurably bossy.

"That's Claire," Embry murmured into Mollie's ear. "Emily's niece."

"Is she related to Quil, too?" Mollie asked.

"No—they're just, uh, special friends."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that Quil is Claire's bitch," stage-whispered Jared from the next log over. Quil growled angrily and Jared hastily corrected himself, "I mean, it means that Quil is Claire's tea-party buddy."

"They're both true," said Embry. "He's also her punching bag, coat rack, and pillow. The kid owns him."

The circle was tittering at the side conversation and Mollie flushed red. "I'll continue, then," said Billy, amused. "The next story is that of the third wife's sacrifice. We do not know the third wife's name; that was lost through the ages, or perhaps it was never recorded. Yet her bravery sets her among the ranks of the great.

"Several moons after the remains of the Cold Man were burned, a golden-haired woman appeared in the village. She was beautiful, pale, and strangely dressed. The Quileutes worshipped her as a goddess. She killed them in return.

"She too was a Cold One, the mate of the Cold Man, seeking revenge for his death. Whether she found it in her slaughter of the villagers I do not know. But there was only Yaha Uta to defend the Quileute; his half-brother wolves were all dead by the Cold Man's hand, his father too old, and the other children of the third wife too young. Yaha Uta died defending his people.

"Then there was only Taha Aki. He had not phased in many years, and when he did his spirit wolf was old and weak. He knew the Cold Woman would kill him. His wife, the third wife, knew this too. She had watched her eldest son die at the Cold Woman's hands, and now she would see her husband die too.

"Taha Aki and the Cold Woman danced. She struck him; he bit her. But he was losing; that was plain to see. It was then that the third wife made her sacrifice. The Cold Woman thirsted after blood. The third wife gave her blood.

"She grabbed Taha Aki's knife from the ground where it had fallen as he phased and plunged it into her heart. The scent of her blood distracted the Cold Woman enough that Taha Aki, aided by his young sons, who, in rage at their mother's death, had phased, could tear off her head and burn the body.

"When this was done Taha Aki laid next to the corpse of his wife, and there he stayed for a long time. Then he disappeared into the woods and was never seen again."

Billy stopped abruptly. Then he smiled and laid his arms down on his lap. "I think that's enough mythology for today, don't you agree?"

A grumbling protest met his words. "But you never stop there!" said Nick. "You always end with the story about the tr—"

Lightening fast, a hand whipped out and smacked him. Mollie wasn't sure whose it was. "What was that for?" cried Nick.

"Dipshit," muttered Leah. The circle broke up with scattered chattering. Most of the group headed back to the tables to clean up, but Embry steered Mollie to the parking lot. They went slowly because of the darkness and Mollie's crutches.

"We should probably go help clean up . . ." she trailed off as the voices behind them receded.

"Nah," said Embry. "They'll take care of it. Besides, crutches, remember?"

Mollie smiled. "I guess I really wouldn't be much use, anyway."

"Probably not." Suddenly, Embry's hands were on her waist and he lifted her over the log parking blocks, setting her down on the asphalt. Mollie's breath caught in her throat, letting out with a whoosh when he let go of her.

"Give me some warning before you do that, ok?" she said.

"Sorry," Embry said unrepentantly. "But you might expect it by now."

"Evidently not."

"But you didn't mind it, did you?" he asked with a faint, smug smile. He moved a step closer and then one hand was back on her waist.

"No," Mollie whispered. The hand slid to her hip. Another step closer, and they were so close that her nose almost touched the hollow in his throat. He was ridiculously tall, she thought. Embry's other hand found its way to her face. It brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead, then settled on her cheek. Then he kissed her.

He pulled her closer and she molded herself to his body. His hand twisted in her hair, tangling through her braid. Their lips crashed together. Filled with a reckless abandon, Mollie let her crutches drop to the asphalt as she fell deeper into Embry's arms. Her hands moved over his shoulders and behind his neck, feeling the smooth hardness of his muscular frame. Groaning in response, Embry crushed her against his body then lifted her entirely into his arms. His tongue broke through, pressing against Mollie's lips. She fought back for a moment, just for the fun of it, before letting him in.

They were interrupted abruptly when Nick walked into the lot behind them. "Dude," he said, wolf whistling. "Get a fucking room."

Embry growled. "Fuck off, Nick."

"No need to be touchy . . . just remember the injunction."

Embry buried his face in Mollie's hair and mumbled another expletive.

"And you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?"

Embry groaned. "Nick, is your ultimate goal to ruin my life? You're making a brilliant start, if it is."

Nick snapped his fingers. "Damn, you caught me out."

"Get lost, kid."

"Will do. Good luck . . . oh wait, you can't have any. Forgot, injunction." Nick laughed his way out of the parking lot. Embry groaned again.

"I'm so sorry, Mollie."

"About him? Don't worry, I didn't understand half of what he said and I won't pretend I did."

"I'll explain everything later. It's just—you might not understand everything at this point. I want to tell you, I really do, but for various reasons I can't," Embry said, frustrated.

"Look, I know there's something strange about you and your friends, Embry."

"You do?"

"It's pretty damn obvious," said Mollie.

"I doubt that—wait. Did you just swear?" Embry asked. "I didn't think you did that."

"Only sometimes," said Mollie quietly.

"Don't be shy," Embry said with a grin. "It's pretty damn hot."

Mollie chose to ignore that. "Embry, when Nick said I was your girlfriend, I—"

"Oh, man, I'm sorry about that, too. Nick's an annoying little bugger. But I won't lie, Mollie, that is my ultimate goal. I like you a lot. I do want us to be together. But not yet, because I know you're not ready for that. I'm not going to push you into anything."

"Thank you," she said. They drove back to Mollie's place in comfortable silence.