Absence
I lay awake in my bed for hours, just watching my locked window. Not having Edward beside me was something to get used to. He had done it for so long that I no longer knew how it felt like to sleep alone in my full size bed. "This is how it should be," I told myself. Then, I giggled. I could talk, and nobody was here to listen or ask me what I was thinking. What marvelous freedom this was!
The following morning, the summer sun was shining rather brightly. I snuggled under my quilt for five minutes before getting up. I hurried downstairs to make breakfast for Charlie and me. I cooked the pancakes in butter; added shredded cheese to the eggs; and fried the bacon in the remaining oil in the pan.
"The nearest IHOP is in Sequim, Bells," said Charlie, chuckling. "How'd you get these beauties all the way down here?"
"I made them myself, Dad," I said, beaming.
He took a bite, and so did I. The food I prepared was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. I would never exchange this for acrid blood.
Charlie was so happy he helped me to wash the dishes, so I could go to La Push earlier.
I drove my truck as fast as I could. But with the additional weight of the motorcycle on its bed, I almost felt like I was dragging the truck and its load by myself. I looked around me, afraid for no reason. Was Edward following me? No, I didn't want him to! I screamed out my frustration, goading the truck to accelerate. Then, the scream of defiance turned into a scream of horror when opaque puffs of white smoke leaked out of the hood. The truck shook violently and groaned angrily. I cried out and coughed, leaping out of the truck. Several people came to my aid.
"It's gonna be okay," said a tall man with eyeglasses. "I'm calling for a tow truck."
"How old is the truck anyway?" asked a younger teenage girl.
"It's a 60s model," I replied indignantly. I whipped out my mobile to call Charlie and then Jacob.
I waited in a nearby diner, sipping on root beer float while watching my truck getting towed. I was flustered that I didn't even make it out of the town. As I stirred my tall glass to make the beer frothier, I felt thankful that I was surrounded by people. The sweetness of the float might mask my scent somehow. I didn't want Edward to confront me sometime soon.
I glanced at my truck again. Tears filled my eyes. My 1963 Chevrolet pickup truck, which had faithfully brought me anywhere I had needed to be, had died a natural death. "You were my one friend," I whispered as I wiped my eyes with a table napkin.
Later, a representative from the tow truck company approached me and told me about the state of the truck. "Besides its obvious age, frankly, it is also unsafe to drive. It's seriously outdated, and it no longer passes the standards of the IIHS. Do you have car insurance?" he asked with such a reproachful tone that I flinched.
"I'm not too sure," I said. "My Dad bought it from a mechanic friend in La Push."
"Oh, you mean Billy Black? Yeah, the old man does have a fondness for resuscitating ancient models like that. But it's not safe …"
Moments later, Charlie arrived in his police cruiser. The tow truck guy shook hands with him, and they discussed the situation. I let them talk it out while I continued to mourn inside with my root beer float. To my horror, a shiny silver Volvo slid into view. Covering his face with a pale gray ARSNL Kato ninja hoodie and Ray Ban shades to hide from the sun, Edward Cullen marched into the diner. He didn't need to search for me. He sat across the table from me.
"Bella, are you alright?" he asked, uncovering his perfect face.
I sipped some more of the sweet caramel-colored drink. "I'm fine," I replied curtly. I wanted to add that "It's none of your business," but I'd rather not make him angry.
"Alice saw—"
"Why do you need to do something because Alice saw something?"
"Why are you interrupting me?"
"Why are you here?" I asked. I wanted to add, "What I do or what happens to me is none of your business anymore," but I didn't have the heart.
"I came to see if you were all right because Alice saw you going to La Push," he confessed with so much raw emotion that I struggled not to fall for it. Why did he have to dazzle me so much?
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. "Whether I go to La Push or not is no longer your concern," I said. "I can go see Jacob whether you like it or not."
"Bella, I'm serious. The wolves—"
"After they helped you protect me, you still don't trust them?"
I felt immensely satisfied as the shame washed over his face. I also simultaneously felt guilty. I didn't usually make people feel bad intentionally. It was very hard, watching him in this agony. It was like watching him get tortured by Jane except I was doing this to him.
I took a deep breath. "I'm going to be fine," I said, standing up after finishing my float. "That should comfort you enough."
I left the diner and greeted my father. "Hey, Bells," he said. "Let me take you to La Push."
"What about my bike?"
"I can bind it to the cruiser. Come on."
Looking at Forks felt different now. It felt strange feeling safe with Charlie like this. Not that being with Charlie wasn't safe. It just occurred to me that I had totally neglected my own father and, in the process, realized that being with him was nice. I had constantly chosen Edward over Jacob; and both of them over Charlie; when it should have been in reverse. I liked this, for a change: being normal. I closed my eyes, listening to the gentle humming of the car engine and the road noise outside. I was safe. Nothing was out to kill me.
Today, I was going to hang out with a guy who had stood by me no matter how badly my ex or I had treated him. I was going to make it up to him, and nobody could stop me, especially not a ridiculously rich eternally adolescent vampire who drove a Volvo. I gave Charlie a kiss on the cheek when he dropped me off at Billy Black's house. I looked at the little faded red house and decided that this was where I was going to relax, from now on. "The Cullens don't come here," I chanted to myself.
Jacob and I rode our bikes together, casually cruising around La Push like we used to. Like riding with Charlie, this was a freeing experience. Unlike with Edward, I could talk freely because Jacob never got angry at what I said. Jacob loved to see me laugh because it didn't put him on guard. Jacob trusted me.
When we relaxed in the beach, I kissed his cheek. Jacob smiled at me, comforted by the chaste gesture. "You're happier," he observed.
"I'm done with being afraid all the time," I said.
"I thought you weren't afraid of them," said Jacob, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, I wasn't," I said, pausing momentarily, "but I don't want to live the way they do. I don't wanna have to hide from the sun all the time because I love the sun. I don't wanna have to live away from my family. I love my family. I love my mother. And I'm sorry …" My voice broke and my eyes leaked tears. Jacob let the crying spell pass but he didn't touch me. I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry if I hurt any of you because I favored them."
I hugged Jacob tight and savored the feel of his warmth, his taut muscles. "I'm so sorry, Jake," I sobbed. "I should have let you go when I chose him over you, but I didn't because I need you."
"It doesn't matter," said Jacob firmly as he wrapped his thick arms around me. "I know you loved me anyway. I was only just hoping you would come to me eventually. And you did. It was worth it."
"So, the rumors are true," drawled the husky voice of a woman.
"Go away, Leah!" snapped Jacob.
We looked behind us. Leah's beauty was nearly as stunning as that of any of the Cullens, but she was also about as intimidating. Tall and slim, Leah commanded respect even by standing lazily with her head slightly cocked to the side. The constant shunning she got from the formerly exclusively male Quileute wolf pack clearly got her down, but she refused to show it.
"Why don't you tell her to go away? She smells of bloodsuckers."
Leah had every reason to be angry all the time, but I could see how the rest of the pack found it hard to feel sorry for her. The jab at me stung.
"You hate me now, leech lover?"
It was a very bad time to be tongue-tied. Each second, I got more nervous, and Leah got smugger. I didn't hate her, but I doubted my patience.
"What the hell is your problem, Leah?" Jacob leaped to his feet, clenching his fists.
"Jacob!" I gasped.
"You gonna hit a girl now, huh?" said Leah.
"Stop!" I screamed.
Leah finally smiled with satisfaction and strutted away from the beach. Jacob's breathing slowed, and he sat again. "She just enjoyed bothering you," he explained.
"I figured," I said.
We spent the next few hours chatting in the Black House's garage while Jacob was working on a Harley Davidson. Jacob had always had "mad skills" when it came to mechanics, and Harley Davidson motorcycles were his favorite. He talked at great length about how small and slim this particular model was; "probably built for ladies," he guessed. Then, he went on about the different models of Harley Davidson motorcycles and their specifications. I knew nothing about motorcycles except how to ride them and maintain them, but I marveled at his passion. "I didn't know there were so many models," I said.
"Like cars, there are adjustments to each model every year. …"
It was nice to see him light up like this. It didn't matter to either of us that he knew that I didn't understand what he was saying. We were having a great time, and that mattered more than anything.
When I went home, the sky had become quite dark, and Charlie had finished his duty fairly early.
"I figured you need a little cheering up," he said.
"I had a great time in La Push, Dad," I said, "but thank you. You have any plans?"
"I suggest you get dressed up," said Charlie. "How does dinner out and a movie sound?"
"That sounds great!" I said, more out of surprise than delight. We hadn't done this in a while. While I didn't remember particularly enjoying it when I had first arrived in Forks, I realized I did miss quiet moments like this with my father. In the care, I quietly watched the homes and businesses fly by the car window like this morning. When Charlie's favorite diner passed by, I was stunned.
"Dad, we missed the diner."
"We're not going to the diner," he said. "How d'you like eating somewhere fancy out of town?"
"Are you serious?" I exclaimed gleefully. "Of course I wanna go!"
Charlie drove us to Port Angeles, to a familiar little Italian restaurant called the Bloated Toad. "Your mother and I used to have dinner here," he said. "We privately call it Bella Notte because the Bloated Toad is an ugly name. I think that's how we came up with your name."
"Cool!" It felt strange to be livelier than usual, but it made Charlie happy. It made me feel happy, too. When Charlie led me into the restaurant, I had a strong nostalgic feeling about it—the bad kind. This was where I had eaten with Edward Cullen; if you would consider him watching me eat as "eating with."
"Table for two, please," said Charlie to the waitress who greeted us at the door. His unusually gleeful voice woke me up from my thoughts.
We were assigned a small but comfortable round table for two. While Charlie was browsing the menu, I looked around and noticed how cozy the restaurant was. The ambience was incredibly soothing thanks to the piano adaptations of slow pop songs in the background and the warm lighting. I hadn't noticed all of this before because I had been too busy gawking at Edward. The lighting accentuated his amber eyes.
I shook my head and read the menu. There were plenty of great choices here. The pizzas and pastas awee segregated by their sauces: red sauce and white sauce. Other dishes, like the aglio olio, puttanesca, and ravioli, belonged in a separate list. After much deliberation, we settled for a Margherita pizza and eggplant parmigiana for me and spaghetti in puttanesca for Charlie. We ordered non-alcoholic Kahlúa coffee to go with everything.
The meal was as quiet as any dinner with my father in any old diner in Forks, but this really was special. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was different, and I liked it.
"Hey, Dad," I said, attempting to make small talk, "I think it would be really cool if we redesigned the house a bit. We can brighten it up with warm colors and light and stuff …"
"That sounds great," said Charlie, surprised with me, "but I don't think it matters much, now that you're moving out by next year."
I cringed, remembering the lies I had established with the help of the Cullen family. I had lied to both my parents about going to the University of Alaska when I never actually applied. It was only ever an excuse to disappear from both their lives forever. Now, I was left without a long-term plan.
"What's wrong?"
"That's really a shame, Dad," I said, my mind racing, "I'm gonna miss you."
I got Charlie to talk about his job today. I needed to take my mind off all the missed opportunities in my life so far. Later was a good time to think about them. I listened and tried to be as enthusiastic as I could. The latter didn't take too much effort; Charlie's stories really were interesting. Charlie was fond of telling me about the more action-filled parts of his job, like investigating on missing persons cases and hunting down felons on the loose. He was pleased that I was receptive to hearing details like finding dead bodies with parts mutilated or missing. Once upon a time, I had dreamed of being the one to leave people in that state; now, grotesque and morbid imagery were once again
safe and impossible fantasies.
After watching Lady in the Water, we went home full and satisfied. When I took a shower, I made sure to lock the little clerestory window above the shower. I covered it with the discarded hard cover of a fifty-year-old book the old owners had left in the bathroom. When I finished, I put the book cover where it belonged (a shelf above the magazine rack) and hurried back to my room.
I closed the window, locked it, and pulled down the shade and closed the curtains. Edward wouldn't be able to see me even if he tried. He wouldn't be able to smell me, either. I felt a flutter of excitement. I was alone in my room. I hung my towel to dry. I looked at myself in the free-standing mirror near my bed. As always, I looked thin and frail; I looked better with the right clothes on. My breasts and hips were small, but I guessed I looked okay with the right posture or the right angle. I sighed. I guessed it was okay I would never marry Edward; then, he'd never have to see me like this. Maybe I just hadn't grown into my own body yet, I hope …
I lay in bed without putting my clothes on. I reached for my clit and touched myself. Because I hadn't had time for myself in the last year or so, I hadn't been able to enjoy what Edward would never give to me. I had always been chattering with Alice or kissing with Edward. And when we kissed, my body never failed to betray my lust. I had never told Edward, but maybe he never needed telling; sometimes, I got wet just by looking at him. And now, I was wet just by thinking about him. I laughed at myself for literally wanting him. Edward was better as an unattainable fantasy, like a porn star in a computer screen—good for nothing more than eye candy. I smiled as I imagined what it must feel to be penetrated by him. My groin ached in response. I had to cover my mouth, so nobody would have to know what I was doing. It didn't take long for me to explode. The orgasm just kept coming and coming until I got exhausted and had to stop. I returned to the bathroom to clean myself up.
Charlie was snoring loudly in his room and did not suspect anything. As I returned to bed, I giggled. I wondered what it would be like to have Jacob take me. I slept naked under the sheets.