A/N - Thanks to AugustShaffer, feebes86, and Mist for their time and support. I own nothing related to Twilight. SM owns her characters, but I'd like to think Jax is mine. ;D Any errors are my own.

Chapter 7: Kitchen-Aids and Milk-Bones

Song: Shake It Out by Florence and The Machines

BPOV

I had been walking in the woods, Jack and Jasmine for once not in tow, when I got lost. After walking for what seemed to be hours and hours, the forest grew impossibly dark. The sun had finally sunk into the horizon that I couldn't see, and I tripped along blindly for several more hours. I crumbled by a log, after I succumbed to fatigue. I assured myself that it was only to rest for a few minutes. I was worried that Gran would be upset because I had been gone so long.

When I could feel the warmth on my cheeks and see the faint light behind my eyelids, I made to open my eyes but could only see a blinding light ahead of me. I immediately cringed; the soft light of the room was downright painful to me. I took a deep breath to quell my harsh breathing. My head felt like someone was trying to open it with a jack hammer; a high-pitched sound was ringing in my ears. I cautiously tried to open my eyes again and when the blurry fog lifted, I instantly remembered where I was and why I was here.

I turned my line of sight to the left and saw Charlie lounging in a chair, looking like he was having the worst night sleep of his life. His expression was stoic and his face looked unusually pale, making the stubble on his face much more noticeable. He wasn't in his uniform, thank God, but he was in a long-sleeved, flannel shirt and jeans. Yeah, because that isn't going to make you stand out in Phoenix at all, even in January.

The loss of Gran almost two years before had been particularly hard on me, and I couldn't help but wish that she was the one sitting beside me. I would be able to talk to her, but not Charlie. Why was he even here? If he was alone in a room with me, he might actually have to acknowledge that I exist. I hadn't heard a goddamn word from him in a year and a half!

Looking down, I saw he had an iron grip on my left hand, the alien feel of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. The urge to jerk it free tore through me with a vengeance. He had no right to such familial intimacy. But trepidation of waking him if I severed our link stilled my hand.

I looked down at my right arm, wincing at the sight of the unnatural color of it. It was still in a brace until the swelling went down enough to put the cast...

Waking suddenly, I opened my watery eyes to stare at the popcorn ceiling, feeling a few tears slide their way to the pillow beneath my head. Damn it! I left fucking Phoenix; I left all of it! I shouldn't have to be reminded of anything in my dreams.

Weren't dreams supposed to be filled with fantasies and possibilities? Dreams were a place where Jesse Metcalfe was always caught in sprinklers on a constant loop, a pair of dripping boxers taunting me as they hid what was at the end of his pleasure trail. Or a place where you could pretend eighties hairstyles or seventies music never happened. Perhaps you could dream that someone smothered Jerry Springer in his sleep before he had the chance to start the whole 'Give me my fifteen minutes of fame' phenomenon. Bastard!

Why was I being subjected to this shit, these memories? This was just one of the many episodes of my cluster-fuck of a life that I would rather die than to relive. I was sure it had to do with the sight I was met with last night after I came home. Charlie was playing century in his recliner, obviously waiting for me. It seemed like he wanted to act like a father now. Laughable. Curious, as there was no one left to watch his performance. He would always do the bare minimum for Gran's benefit when I was growing up and, hell, he deserved an Oscar compared to Renee's abilities.

All I had to do was survive the next six months. Six fucking months! And then I would be free to do what I wanted. I wouldn't have to live with a man who had done nothing but show his absolute indifference of me for a decade and a half.

Really the only thing keeping me here now was a sense of duty to Gran; say goodbye to her before I left the western U.S. for the rest of my life. I would never go west of the Rockies again, if I could help it. There was no reason to. Sure, I would miss people in La Push. But I had always been only a transient fixture in their lives over the years. They would get along just fine without me, just as they had done in recent years. And although I know now that they didn't know what had been going on in my life, they still didn't actually try to find out either. Out of sight, out of mind. They would forget about Bella Swan within a week. And if they did try to find me, they wouldn't. I had every intention of changing my name the first chance I got; I wasn't a Swan. Hell, I didn't have a fucking clue who I was.

Anyway, Gran would have wanted me to get the diploma. Although I was beginning to wonder if I really shouldn't just pack a duffel bag and head east, I know that stupid slip of paper would make getting a job easier. How bad could a few months with the sperm donor be, really? I had already been to hell and back several times over. This was a fucking cake walk. Mmmm, cake. Must find food.

Dragging myself out of bed, I quickly checked to make sure Charlie was gone. My headache and the dream had me agitated, and I wouldn't be able to keep up the needed level of indifference with him, once I saw him. Anyway, I wanted Jax here if there was going to be any fireworks. Charlie had never hit me, but he had a temper. I had always been meek and invisible around him, but now I wasn't going to pull any punches. I wasn't stupid enough to hit him, but I couldn't guarantee I wouldn't throw something. Jax would help keep things in check I thought.

Remembering Jax's antics made chuckle as I went about my morning routine. His chasing Quil was priceless. I might not be able to harm those behemoth cousins of mine, but my little personal Cujo could. Mwahahah!

When I had returned from the bonfire last night, I found Charlie had made good on my demand for the kitchen furniture to be brought down from the attic. It looked like he had even tried to clean them, because the fact that they now had no dust on them after five years in the attic, just did not compute.

I had gone upstairs shortly after returning last night, soothed my achy muscles in a hot bath, and then crashed in one of the best night's sleep of my life. The fuck-hot Paul starred in my dreams most of last night, even though he had turned out to be a disappointment in real life, basically telling me to get lost at the bonfire. I rebounded well, I thought, although I really had to concentrate on not jumping his ass while I sat next to him. I finally had to retreat and go talk to Jake and Embry.

Embry was going to prove to be a problem, as he seemed more than willing to start something with me. Years ago I would have jumped at the opportunity, but now I couldn't do that to him. I wasn't staying; I was leaving, before Christmas if I got my way, and he was too good of a guy and friend to give the wrong idea. Not that I wanted to give anyone false hope of a relationship that would never happen.

That had been the allure of Paul, besides the many, many obvious other reasons. I practically swooned when he smirked at me while I was in the ocean. He looked delicious, and I could tell he was the love 'em and leave 'em type. He was the quintessential bad boy that Gran had never got the chance to warn me about. I would only be another notch on his bedpost and he would go on to the next piece of ass on his list, forgetting that I ever existed. Strangely, I was okay with that. Did it make me a slut? Possibly, but I couldn't be bothered to care. All I knew was that I felt more alive in that one minute treading water, surveying his chiseled body, than I had in all of my almost nineteen years.

But it appeared I didn't stack up to his expectations, or Leah had more clout than I figured in the group. Shudder at the thought. The rejection was short lived, as I rallied my inner-bitch and caught up with the others. I could feel his eyes on me all night, but I kept firm to my mandate to ignore him. If I wasn't worth his time, he wasn't worth mine.

Walking into the kitchen, I poured a cup of coffee with Paul still on my mind. Of course, just because I didn't get the live show, didn't mean I couldn't use him for my 'alone' time. Yummy!

I had only done a cursory glance in the kitchen last night before my retreat upstairs, so I didn't notice until this morning, that Charlie had also brought many of her pans and canisters down as well. He had placed them on the table. The morning light shone from the window, illuminating the table as if the heavens were saying 'Look here, Bella.' That is when I noticed my Gran's red, Kitchen-Aid mixer, the crème de la crème of all kitchen appliances. He had kept this modern marvel in the attic? Sacrilege! That was a fucking culinary crime! Didn't they teach cops anything?

Gran had received the shiny gift her last Christmas. The Atearas, Blacks, and Charlie had all pitched in together to get her the standup mixer. To this day, I'm not sure who was more excited about it, me or her. We had spent the rest of my visit going through the little book of suggested uses and recipes. We made each recipe in the book that we could and several of Gran's favorites. Both of us were in awe at how well it worked. We made a list of all the attachments she needed for it, and she promised we would use it to make pasta when I visited over the summer.

We talked a lot about going into business together. We loved cooking, so obviously it would revolve around food. A bakery, catering business, or a little tea room were our favorite options. I could bake almost anything; I had better luck than Gran even. She wanted a little antique store that had a tea room operating in it a few days a week. I would make all the desserts and Gran would be in charge of running the antique store. We would serve sandwiches, wraps, soups, and salads until we ran out of food for the day. I liked the idea of a bookstore a little better with a tea room, but hey, I was flexible.

It didn't matter though now. I had buried that dream when I buried Gran. It would take years, if not decades, to come up with the cash to start a business. I didn't have a cent to my name except for the couple hundred bucks that I had saved for several years from Renee's clutches. I guess I could always try to seduce a banker into giving me a business loan, but unfortunately Gran taught me better than that. Damn it!

So now that I'm in one hell of a shitty mood this morning, I remember that I need to find a fucking job. Perfect!

After cleaning the kitchen again and putting all of the stuff Charlie had brought down into either the island or baker's rack, I moved on to dusting and cleaning the entire house except for his room. Not going to happen! The windows sparkled, the floors shined, and I used enough Febreeze to finally get the damn smell of stale beer out of the fabrics and air. Unfortunately, the bathroom was so hauntingly disgusting I knew a had new nightmare material for tonight. I had to open the tiny window in the shower, because the toxic level of the fumes was getting to me and exasperate my already bad headache.

I started to clean some in my room, but instead decided that I should run a few errands. I needed supplies for Jax before I picked him up later today. I had already made sure to open and clean out the dog door on the back door. I also needed to change the quilt on my bed to something that Gran hadn't hand-stitched herself.

And, of course, I still needed to find gainful employment. Fuck my life.

~B of L~

"Look Mr. Newton. If my employment is contingent with you speaking with the Chief, then I don't think this is going to work. I'm punctual, honest, and friendly." Keep a straight face. Keep a straight face. "Either you hire me for my merits, and not my father's position, or don't hire me at all."

I was standing inside the owner's office of Newton's Outfitters, attempting to get a job. I had checked a few bakeries, but they didn't have any openings and I hadn't thought to make any brownies before going. I blamed the state of the current migraine assaulting me for my lack of preparation. Oh well, I would have ate all of my culinary creations anyway. I know, I know, sour grapes.

I was starting to get scared that I might have to actually wait tables. All those broken dishes and coffee scorched laps! When I was discussing my plans for the summer, Old Quil suggested I should get a job at Sue Clearwater's diner. The livid expression I caught in the corner of my eye that she shot him told me the likelihood of that happening. She couldn't help she was a bitch; she was her daughter's mother. I'd be one too if I had given birth to the anti-Christ.

Luckily, I passed by Newton's and thought, 'What the hell'. I had spent enough time camping and running around the woods to be helpful in the store. Mr. Newton seemed like a nice enough guy. He had a little bit of a beer gut but an otherwise decent physique for his age. His demeanor was unassuming and pleasant, and it appeared you got what you saw with him, which I appreciated. My only annoyance was that he wanted to speak with Charlie before hiring me. Of course, that shit didn't fly well with me, at all.

I looked at him again and he gave me a satisfied smile and nodded his head, apparently impressed with my response. "Okay, you come in Monday afternoon at twelve-thirty and we will see how it goes. We can work out a schedule after that. Will that work?"

"Yes, thank you. Monday afternoon sounds good." At least I could attempt to sleep in and then avoid Charlie in the evening. Sold! However, I still had all day tomorrow at the house alone with him.

I made my way to the reservation after that, my mood surprisingly lifting as I crossed the borders. Jax was extremely happy to see me. I made Old Quil some lunch, and as if they had a sixth sense for food, Jake and Billy showed up. I quickly doubled my portions in the hopes that I could feed us all, because Jake ate more than the other three of us combined. I was astounded last night at the amount of food he and his friends could put away. It wasn't normal, not that I had ever thought Jake and Quil were normal. Perhaps it was a teenage male thing, but I suspected it was something more.

Although I had a good time at the bonfire, I just couldn't shake the nagging sense that something was ... off. First, there was the disturbing food massacre that I witnessed. Next, it was the physiques and high body heat of all the guys. Not that I was complaining, they were all drop dead gorgeous. But unless you are putting steroids in the drinking water, the likelihood of so many guys being that big just didn't make sense. And what was with the heat? They should be dead with the temperatures it felt like they were running. But it did prove useful in the chilly air last night, being sandwiched between them.

Next, the way everyone listened to the stories was extremely unusual. The last bonfire I went to with Gran, probably five or so years ago, we had heard the legends as well. However, this time everyone listened with a reverence that you didn't get from teenage boys and young men unless exotic dancers were involved. Seriously! Even the adults seemed to have a renewed sense of pride in the stories. They were great stories and I had always loved them, but I didn't see what could have changed so damn much in five years. Except my cup size. And the guys too for that matter. *wink*

Lastly, it was the couples. They down-right sickened and scared me at the same time. I mean, what the fuck! The level of adoration and love coming off of them was staggering. And it wasn't lust, although I did see that too. It was 'can't live without you, let's grow old together' L O V E. My discomfort was more than the smidgen of jealousy I might have because they possessed what I clearly never had, and probably never would. It was also in the unnerving way that they seemed to gravitate and move together, as if each person in the couple were an extension of the other. When one moved, the other immediately compensated their position. They seemed to be in constantly touching each other, not necessarily groping , but as if there was an unconscious fear that if they lost contact the other one would vanish. Freaky!

And don't even get me started on the Leah/Quil abomination. I knew all that mud he ate as a kid was going to fuck him up. Idiot!

About three in the afternoon, Jax and I made our way back to the house. I unloaded all of my purchases into my room and then gave Jax the tour of his new home. I showed him the dog door and the rooms of the house. He had free reign except for in the kitchen and bathroom, because ewww. I took him walking outside on the trails behind the house, reminiscing of all the times I had walked the same paths with his grandparents, Jack and Jasmine. He needed to bond with his new environment and mark his territory. I was scouting a place to put a hammock, but was a little apprehensive of putting one in the tree line. I had always wanted one here, and I could offer the squirrels entertainment with trying to get in and out of it.

I decided to take a quick shower before I started making some dinner. I had just put on my clothes and was pulling a brush through my wet hair when I heard all hell break loose downstairs. "BELLLLAAAAAA!"

I tore down the stairs, damn near falling, and turned the corner on the landing to see Charlie below, plastered against the front door with a snarling Jax only a foot in front of him. I saw Charlie's hand twitch toward his gun holster and Jax let loose a feral growl. The unadulterated fear pouring out of Charlie was palpable; I highly suspected that Charlie was close to pissing himself, if he hadn't already.

My God, I love this dog!

Trying to keep a callous smirk off my face, I leisurely finished descending the stairs and walked beside Jax, securely gripping his collar.

"What the hell is that?" Charlie screamed with a petrified look on his face. Clearly, Charlie was not a dog person. Oh, this is too good!

Jax did not take kindly to Charlie's raised voice in my presence and a low, guttural growl tore through his chest, and I pulled back on his collar in an effort to restrain him. His teeth were bared menacingly, and the fur on his back was standing straight up. If I was a truly evil and vengeful person, I could give one command and then no more Charlie, but unfortunately, patricide was not my style. X-lax brownies were a more satisfying revenge, even if served warm, and I was definitely the bigger person, figuratively speaking, between the two of us. Morality is such a burden.

"Well, this is a dog. I'm surprised you don't know what they are. Law enforcement is known to employ them from time to time," I spoke in a slow, even, patronizing tone that Charlie clearly didn't appreciate. I wanted to release Jax's collar so I could give my explanation, complete with Vanna White gestures as if he was a shiny, red convertible, but thought that might not be prudent at the moment.

"Why is it here?" Jax growled again.

"HE lives here," I snapped back. I was getting annoyed at his attitude to my pup. Not like he had never seen one in this house before.

"Where did you get him?" Charlie questioned, looking a little repentant.

"The stork dropped him off. The basket and blue blanket are in my room now," I chuckled.

"Bella," he admonished.

"Fine, he is a gift from Old Quil and his name is Jax. Don't worry, I'll take care of him." I so terribly wanted to tack on 'because you wouldn't know how to take care of anything but yourself' but refrained. No need to state the obvious.

I gave Jax the Quileute command to back off, to which he quickly obeyed and sat on his haunches. I moved my hand to start rubbing his ears, helping him to relax under my touch. Charlie's eyes widened at my use of the language, probably just figuring out how precarious his situation really was. He slowly peeled himself from the door and cautiously walked around us, keeping his eyes glued to the young canine. However, Jax still growled as he passed, sending Charlie scurrying up the stairs to his room as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

I laughed to myself and walked into the pantry and got one of the Milk-Bones I had purchased earlier in the day. Knelling down, I rubbed Jax's ears and gave him a big hug. Awarding him with his treat, I winked at him and giggled, "Jax, my boy, is it too soon in our relationship to tell you, I love you?"

A/N Thanks for reading! Thanks to all those that have favorited or are following this story. It makes me super happy!

Promise some more Paul next chapter

A few recommendations:

Just A Cup Of Sugar by silver drip - Bella/Carlisle

Shifting Tides by otherwolder81- Sam/Bella

Intensity by mama4dukes - Paul/Bella

Turn of Fate by DomesticGoddessMT - Bella/Volturi

Tiger Stripes by juliangelus - Jasper/Bella