Bella's first visit to the La Push Indian Reservation. Also: vampires can be so moody.
Bella, Chapter 4
It became obvious very quickly that I had to get serious about buying a car. I was racking up some pretty stiff charges with the rental, as I found out when I checked my account online. The clerk at the airport had given me an estimate, but I knew that didn't often square with exactly what I'd wind up paying. If I kept the rental through the month, it would cost me several hundred dollars more than the original quote.
Larry and Rick both recommended Mooney's, a dealer on Route 110. "If you find a car you like, I know a mechanic who'd look it over for you. He'd probably appreciate a little cash," Rick said, laughing, "but he'd give you an honest and educated opinion."
"Is he near Forks?"
"Yes, actually, he's one of the young guys from the reservation whom Ellen knows." Ellen was Rick's fiancee. "His name is Jacob Black. He and his dad Billy own a general store in La Push. You can probably find him working there, or on a car somewhere near. They live behind the store."
"Sounds good," I said. "I think I'll go this weekend to meet him. I've been curious to see the reservation anyway."
Medication orders were coming in at a brisk pace, and I was grateful to keep busy. It's really the best way to learn the job. I also organized my desk, placing a few pictures of my nieces and nephew and setting out a small plant that I hoped would thrive under fluorescent light. And I did my best not to think about Edward Cullen.
Much to my embarrassment, one of the staff from the hospital's Public Relations Department cornered me in the cafeteria on Thursday. "Hi there! I'm Tom Boylan," he said, grabbing my hand and shaking it vigorously. "You're Isabella Swan, right? Our newest employee?"
"Yes, but I prefer Bella," I replied, smiling a little. I found myself constantly walking a fine line: wanting to be friendly so I didn't seem snobby, but also not wanting to encourage more contact than I could stand. I really didn't enjoy being the center of attention.
"I'd like to write an article about you for our newsletter, the Forks Healthcare Reporter," he said enthusiastically. He was not much taller than I, but what he lacked in height he apparently made up in energy. His blue eyes blazed with excitement. I had the feeling he'd be just as animated if he was selling tea cozies.
"Oh...um, no, please," I demurred. I smiled again, hoping it would keep the edge out of my voice. "I'm very uncomfortable with things like that."
"But people want to read about you. Everyone already knows you're here, and they're curious about what brought you to our hospital, why you chose Forks -- all of that fascinating stuff. We can take a great picture of you!" He was trying to be persuasive.
"No, really. I don't want to be unreasonable, but I'm very shy. Seeing my own picture on the front of the newsletter could trigger a psychotic episode. I would hate to start off that way," I said in a hushed tone.
Tom stared at me with a blank expression on his face. I waited patiently while he decided whether I was kidding.
"Ha ha! That was good. You can run, but you cannot hide, though," he said teasingly, as he turned to walk out of the cafeteria. "I'll come by and see you in the pharmacy soon." He winked at me like he expected that declaration would thrill me.
If only I could predict the future, I'd call in sick the day he planned his visit. Having my personal life splashed all over the front page of some publication? Not appealing. I turned back to face the cafeteria tables, even though I'd finished my lunch and needed to return to my desk. By giving Tom a head start, I wouldn't have to walk down the hall with him.
I'd probably appreciate the attention more if my recent relationship flameout hadn't made me leery of men. Larry and Rick were fine – they were married or very close to it, and that meant they were safe. Encounters that could turn romantic made my stomach flip. I had no idea if Tom or any other available male here felt more than a professional curiosity about me, but I wasn't ready to chance it. Instinctively, I shied away from them. My run-in with Edward earlier in the week had also rattled my already-shaky confidence. I'd almost convinced myself that those daggers coming out of his eyes were because he thought I was unattractive or otherwise annoying.
Friday got off to a bad start. Shortly after we all arrived at work, the pharmacy received an order which Janice placed for bags of intravenous fluids from the hospital's central supply unit. A staff assistant, Pete, brought several cases to us on a hand truck. Unfortunately they were the wrong kind; Janice had requested another type that was used frequently to mix with medications which had to be administered intravenously.
Poor Pete stood there like a little kid while Janice pushed the requisition slip at him. "It says 5% here. The cases say 10%. Can't you read?" she snapped.
I had previously met Pete and found him to be sweet but also child-like; I think he may be somewhat mentally disabled. That made it all the more difficult to sit at my desk and tolerate what she was doing. I didn't want my silence to be interpreted as sanctioning her behavior.
"Janice, it's a simple mistake. I'm sure Pete can go back downstairs and get the right order," I interjected. I smiled encouragingly at Pete, who brightened and grinned back at me.
Predictably, Janice was furious. So much for my efforts at getting our working relationship on a better footing. When she sat back down at her desk, I could practically see plumes of steam rise off of her. My stomach clenched from my usual unease with confrontations, but I was glad I spoke up. It wasn't Pete's fault, and Janice's treatment of him was wrong and unfair.
The atmosphere in the pharmacy became icy and silent. When Janice left for lunch, Rick came around to my desk. "Allow me to shake the hand of the person who finallycalled Janice out on her bullying," he said softly, so Larry couldn't hear.
I sighed. "Yeah. I couldn't help it. I'm sure she's never going to forget this."
He nodded. "Probably not. But you did the right thing," he said admiringly. "People who have worked here for years don't fight back when she gets like that. Who knows? Maybe she'll steer clear of you now."
I laughed. "I won't get my hopes up.'
Janice remained quiet the rest of the day, and continued working without saying anything more to Rick or I. In the afternoon, the Emergency Room called us to restock some of their medications. This was also something handled by the pharmacy. Since I hadn't seen the ER yet, I offered to bring the additional painkillers they requisitioned. I entered the information in the logs, then wandered through the hospital, determined to find it on my own and hoping that the effervescent Tom Boylan had buttonholed someone else to interview.
The activity in the ER was subdued – there was one teenager with an injured arm, and an elderly woman dozing on a gurney, with an oxygen tube around her face. A tall, dark-haired young man came walking out from behind a curtain hung along one of the patient rooms. "Can I help you?" he asked pleasantly. His eyes immediately scanned my face with the questioning look I'd come to recognize when I encountered someone in Forks for the first time.
"Oh, hey, you're the new girl in the pharmacy!" he almost yelled without waiting for me to answer. Had he really just called me "the new girl"? Oh, no. "Isabella, right?"
"Bella," I corrected automatically. "Yes, I'm the new... pharmacist here." I tried not to say it too pointedly, hoping he would get the message anyway.
"Okay. Bella, then. I'm John Blackhorse," he said. John was almost as tall as Rick, but with dark brown hair and eyes. He did have a friendly smile. I had to admit I was impressed with how cheerful most people were here in Forks. It gave me hope that I really would adjust to the rainy climate.
"Nice to meet you, John. Are you a nurse?"
"No, I'm the orderly on the day shift. Did you come to drop off that medication?" he asked, gesturing to the boxes I held in my hand.
"Yes, I was looking for an RN so I could sign them over to your department. Is anyone available?"
"Sure, I'll get Carol, the charge nurse. Wait here."
I looked around the ER, which was quite smaller than others I'd seen. The standard equipment was there, of course: crash carts, oxygen equipment, poles for hanging bags of intravenous fluids, wheelchairs, cabinets stocked with tools for all sorts of invasive procedures. A large message board at the central desk had a handwritten schedule of doctors for all three shifts. I saw a note in blue marker which said Dr. Cullen was due to work overnight starting Sunday at 11 p.m., and that this was a change from his original schedule. He had previously been slotted for work several days during the week – listed in black marker – but then, the blue writing indicated again that he'd reworked his schedule to come in during the day next Friday. It looked as if he'd intentionally switched so some of his time at the hospital next week coincided with Edward's hours. I wondered why.
When the end of the day brought a close to my first week at Forks Hospital, I decided to give myself a "B+" for my on-the-job performance. I learned a lot, remembered people's names, and made very few mistakes – chief among them riling up a cantankerous senior employee and stealing furtive glances at a handsome pharmacy colleague who had an intense, incomprehensible hatred of me. Because Janice deserved what she got, I decided to blame Edward for depriving me of a self-awarded "A." Just another irrational reaction to an irrational person.
I remembered that I'd have to see him on Monday morning. Could I avoid getting apprehensive about that while simultaneously preparing what I might say to him? Probably not. I pushed away those thoughts as best I could and focused on the weekend.
Saturday's to-do list included car shopping and a trip to La Push. I got a later start than I wanted. Waking up early in the morning is usually difficult for me, and since I didn't have to be at work, it was easy to ignore the alarm clock. Before I knew it, the time said 10:30 a.m. After I'd showered and dressed, I stopped downstairs to check on Mrs. Farrelly. I had been looking in on her all week because she developed bronchitis. This morning, I asked her if she needed anything; I knew she didn't like to drive, and it was easy for me assist with that. She mentioned that her doctor gave her a prescription for an antibiotic, so I offered to get it for her. Although she protested, I insisted on taking care of it before I left. I knew that if she didn't start her dosage right away, she could quickly get worse. It was 1 p.m. by the time I left Forks with my own plans, and I had more errands to take care of after I returned. I realized I probably wouldn't have the time to see much of the Quileute reservation and First Beach, but at least I could try to find Jacob Black and talk about the car.
The drive along Route 110 was pretty, with enormous evergreens lining the road. Although the cloud cover made the distant mountains very hazy, the delicate grey mist added ghostly beauty to the forest. I took my time, enjoying the ride and the lovely surroundings. Washington's landscape was so different from my home state. The undeveloped areas of western New Jersey along the Kittatinny Range could not compare to anything now before my astonished eyes. These forests and mountains were so vast, and so green.
The used car dealer was located on the way to La Push. Steve Mooney introduced himself by saying, "You're new around here, aren't you?" I guess it really was that obvious. On the other hand, maybe it meant he knew local families because they had been buying cars from him for ages, and that had to be a good sign.
He led me to a Subaru Forester that was just a couple of years old. I took it for a test drive, and it had relatively low mileage and a smooth drive. This was a definite possibility. It looked like my bicycle might fit in the hatchback, but if even if it wouldn't, the car already had a rear hitch that could support a rack. That was a big plus for me. I was looking forward to cycling through different areas of the state, and I'd need a suitable vehicle to haul my bike around.
The reservation was less than half an hour away from Forks, and La Push General Store was just inside the boundary. It resembled a large log cabin, with a wide porch that had a number of chairs occupied by older American Indian men. Some were eating; others were smoking and talking. They all looked up as I drove into the parking lot and pulled into a space.
I locked my car, then turned to face a collectively intense, silent stare from all of them. Their expressions didn't change and their dignified gaze never left me as I walked to the steps. I smiled in a way that I hoped didn't reveal my self-consciousness and asked, "Is this the store owned by Jacob and Billy Black?"
One of the men closest to the door nodded his head once, his silver braids moving down the front of his plaid shirt. His deep eyes were almost obscured by the prominent, proud cheekbones in his weathered face. He could have been 60 years old, or 100. I couldn't tell.
Somehow, I sensed this response might be all I'd get from him. I smiled again and stepped inside.
The store had a small number of aisles with groceries stocked on the shelves. A refrigerator unit to the right held fresh produce. I walked to the back and saw another refrigerator case with deli meats and cheese. It made me realize I was hungry."Hello?" I inquired uncertainly. Behind the deli case I could see a doorway, where a rustling noise sounded like someone was unwrapping something. "I'll be right with you," a voice called -- the voice of an older male, not a youth.
Suddenly, an Indian man with a broad smile appeared right before me. He had clear, dark eyes in a perfect almond shape, sharply outlined against the rest of his face. "What can I do for you, my dear?" he asked.
"I'd love a sandwich. What kind of bread do you have?" I asked.
He wore a broad, cowboy-style hat with a silver buckle on the front, embedded with small turquoise stones. The top of it bobbed up and down as he checked the options behind the counter. "We've got rye bread, whole wheat, and good old-fashioned round rolls if you're not too concerned about carbohydrates," he said cheerfully.
I pretended to consider this all very seriously. "I'm throwing caution to the wind and eating what I want. Give me a roll," I said.
"Thatta girl! What sandwich meat would you like?"
I ordered turkey breast, and while he ran it through the slicer he said, "I don't believe I've seen you before. Are you visiting?"
"No, I just moved to Forks. Are you Billy Black?"
"Yes, ma'am. I hope someone recommended that you come here for my sandwich expertise," he said, teasing.
"I'm afraid not, but I'll be glad to start the rumor," I said, and he laughed in response. "I understand that your son Jacob lives here with you. I'm actually interested in his mechanical skills. I need to buy a car, and he was recommended to me by Rick Sandoval."
Billy's face brightened. "Oh, Rick! Sure. How do you know him?"
"I just started at Forks Hospital, in the pharmacy. Rick and I work together during the day," I explained.
"Ah, that's good. Rick and Ellen are great people," he said.
"I haven't met Ellen yet, but I'm sure you're right, especially if she's anything like Rick," I said.
"Indeed, she is. Let me finish this sandwich for you, and I'll take you around back. Jacob's there working on a car now," Billy added.
I grabbed an iced tea and a bag of chips and set them on the counter before pulling my wallet out of my purse. Billy rang up my lunch and then put everything in a brown bag for me.
He directed me around the deli case and said I could come straight through the back to get to the garage. The small room there was part work area, where non-perishables were stored, and part kitchen, loaded with personal items like dirty dishes, dirty mugs, food-encrusted silverware, and a table with a tablecloth that had seen better days. We walked past a living room and another hall, then headed out the back door that led to a yard and a garage. "Jacob!" Billy boomed. "Someone here to see you about a car!"
A younger voice responded, "What?"
"She wants your help with a car!" He pointed toward the garage where the voice was coming from, although I couldn't see anyone there. "Miss, you can head right over. Jacob's in there somewhere."
"My name is Bella Swan. It's been so nice to meet you," I said.
Billy gave a slight bow and smiled. "Pleased to meet you as well, Bella. I hope you come to see us again." He turned and walked back to the store. His long black hair fell past his hat, reaching halfway down his back.
I walked cautiously into the garage. "Hello? Jacob?"
"Just a sec -- I've got to lower this off the jack," said a disembodied voice from the rear of an old Volkswagen Rabbit with its hood raised. Suddenly, I saw something move in the back of the garage. All that was visible, however, was an enormous bright smile. As Jacob moved toward me, I saw more of his features. He had lovely russet skin, high cheekbones like his father, and brilliant black eyes that were round and lively. His thick, glossy black hair hung past his shoulders.
"Hi. I'm Bella Swan," I said, offering a handshake.
"Hi, Bella. Sorry I can't shake your hand. I don't mean to be rude, but I've been working on the car all day, and it would be rude to get grease all over you," he said, grinning.
"Are you rebuilding this VW?" I asked.
"Yeah, for about the past three years," he said, laughing. "Just when I think she'll go, I need another part. But I'm sure you didn't come all the way to La Push to hear about that. What can I do for you?"
"Rick Sandoval recommended you. I have to buy a car, and I need someone who knows what they're doing so I don't get stuck with a lemon," I explained.
"Oh yeah, Rick. That's Ellen's fiance," he said, smiling even wider. "Nice guy."
"Yes, he is. I work with him at the hospital," I replied. It was good to hear the strong confirmations of Rick's character. I was gratified that my intuition about him was right. Plus, his fiancee was sounding just as cool.
"Right. You're not from Forks, are you?" he said, his curiosity finally getting the best of him.
"No, I just moved here a short time ago. I'm from New Jersey," I said, smiling and waiting for the reaction. It was the first time I'd volunteered that information before someone asked. Jacob seemed so cheerful; it was easy to be around him.
"New Jersey! What the heck did you come all the way here for?" he asked, laughing.
"Long story. And not a very interesting one, I'm afraid," I said, averting my eyes. I wasn't exactly prepared to confide in him. Thankfully, he didn't push for more personal details.
"Anyway, Rick suggested I try Steve Mooney's car sales, and I found a Subaru Forester that looks promising. Would you come with me to take a look at it? I would be very happy to pay you for your time -- at least enough to buy a few, um, spark plugs?" I said, gesturing toward the disabled Rabbit.
"Sure. I don't have another ride, though. When would you like to go?"
"I can pick you up. How about either Wednesday or Thursday night?"
"Thursday at 7 would work. My dad can handle the store by himself at that hour. Mooney's pretty legit, by the way," Jacob added. "He checks and fixes cars before he sells them."
"That's good to know," I said. He was looking at me quite intently, so that made it a little frightening to say the next few words, even if they were important. "If something comes up and you can't make it, here's my cell. Just call and we can reschedule if you need to," I said, scribbling the information on the back of the receipt Billy had just given me.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled again. "Okay, then. See you Thursday?"
"Yup." I smiled in a way that I hoped was not at all suggestive. I did not want him to get the wrong idea because I'd given him my phone number. "Thanks again. "
I started to walk away and then remembered my manners. I turned around and said, "Nice meeting you," only to see he was still watching me. I'd hoped he moved to resume work on the Rabbit.
"You too," he replied.
Still, he seemed like a very decent kid. With most of the other men I'd met so far, I felt uneasy if they seemed intrigued. Jacob appeared straightforward, like someone trustworthy who wouldn't know how to be dishonest. It was gratifying to know there were men like that out there.
After returning to Forks, I ran over to Newton's to pick up some biking gear. They had a suitable hooded rain jacket that wasn't too expensive. It was bright yellow, so I would be easily visible to drivers along the road. Biking here would probably be a challenge, but I'd do it. Maybe, before too long, I could manage the ride to and from La Push. In the summertime -- if Forks had a summertime -- I could sit on the beach, even if I couldn't swim.
The last day of my weekend went nearly as planned. It was too rainy to take a bike ride, so I finished my laundry and spent a leisurely few hours preparing a large pot of marinara sauce. My kitchen and bedroom have windows which look directly out on a rear deck that runs the length of the house, along the second floor. It was big enough to fit a patio table and a few chairs. Mrs. Farrelly's yard included several enormous evergreens, which no doubt provided a home to some of the birds I'd heard in the mornings and evenings. As I worked at the sink or stove, I frequently glanced outside, appreciating the dense greenery. It was an inviting setting, and I held fast to a hope that the weather would someday cooperate so I could sit outside with my coffee and read.
When my phone rang unexpectedly on Sunday evening, I nearly jumped out of my skin. For one wild moment I thought it was Jacob Black, because he was the only one besides Larry who had my phone number. Then I remembered I had also given it to Rick.
Thankfully, it was Ellen, Rick's fiancee. We had a good conversation about the literacy program and the resources she used with her students. They utilized the same workbooks I was accustomed to from New Jersey. Ellen told me there were about 30 people enrolled in the program; most of them were older adults, with a few younger dropouts who were working toward their GEDs. I offered to meet her Thursday at the reservation's recreation center; I explained that I would be dropping off Jacob anyway, after we checked out the Subaru.
"Oh, right -- Rick told me about that. Jacob can really help you; he knows his stuff. You'll probably see him around the rec center, too -- lots of young people hang out there. He plays basketball with his friends," Ellen said.
She seemed friendly, capable and organized, even over the phone. I had a feeling I'd enjoy working with her. Score another one for Rick. I realized that at this point, the people I liked in Forks were outnumbering the people I didn't much care for. That was a good sign.
I didn't sleep well on Sunday night, thanks to anxiety over Edward and Janice. I couldn't stop trying to anticipate what I'd encounter when I arrived at work the next day. I had to admit to myself that, nervous as I was, I did want to see Edward again. The same could not be said about Janice.
My alarm went off at 6 a.m., and although I could have pushed it and slept another twenty minutes, I gritted my teeth and threw aside the covers. No sense putting off the inevitable. Last night, I'd spent an inordinate amount of time choosing my clothes for work today, finally deciding on a sapphire-blue suit with a white camisole. It was an outfit that always generated a lot of compliments. Why would I care about that right now? I wanted to look professional, I told myself, but the truth was, I also wanted to look attractive, even if I didn't necessarily know what good that would do.
I arrived at the hospital a little early. It doesn't hurt for a newbie to show incentive, right? The weather was rainy, of course, a fairly steady downpour accompanied by some lightning for good measure. I entered the garage and drove up the ramp to the next level, in search of my usual spot.
My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might be audible to everyone within the town. Although I'd deliberated on what to say if Edward was still acting bizarrely, I was worried that I'd become so tense I wouldn't defend myself very well. I decided to start simply and greet him with "Good morning," regardless of how strongly he appeared to want to murder me.
It was around 7:50 a.m. when I walked through the pharmacy door. I hung my damp raincoat on a hook and walked slowly to my desk. Neither Janice nor Rick was there yet, and I could see the light on in Larry's office. He always seemed to arrive early and leave late.
Edward was at his desk. I fought hard to avoid looking directly at him, although I could tell he was calmer than the previous time we were both in the office. I put my purse under my desk and sat down. Before I had the chance to say anything, I heard a low, musical voice.
"Hello," Edward said -- to me, apparently, since no one else was there.
His gentle tone was altogether at odds with his prior behavior. Was he just having an incredibly bad day last week? Which was the real Edward? My heart raced with confusion, and I could feel the blush slowly creep up my cheeks. Time to face this down. I glanced at the floor and turned my head up slowly to look at him.
"You must be Bella Swan. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to introduce myself before. I'm Edward Cullen." He didn't offer his hand to me, so I kept both my arms on top of my desk.
"Yes...hi. It's nice to meet you, Edward." Neither of us seemed to know what to say next, so I jumped in. I wanted to keep him talking to me. "Do you typically work nights?"
"Yes, although I'll be joining you later this week when Janice is out. How do you like Forks?"
I smiled and said, "I'm not really sure yet. I'm working on that. I have a lot to figure out."
Now that I could freely look at his face, I saw that the features I'd glimpsed on my first day, which had lived in my thoughts ever since, were not some product of my imagination. Here was perfection, sitting right across from me in this small hospital, this tiny town in the middle of nowhere. I'd thought he was handsome when his features were scowling and dark with fury. But here, unencumbered by anger and with a small, slightly crooked smile on his face, his beauty was unearthly and disarming. I completely lost my train of thought.
Edward was looking as fascinated as if I'd just explained a plausible cure for cancer. It occurred to me that he was waiting for me to continue. "It's been a big change for me, but I'm glad I made it," I added. I didn't know why I said that, but I suddenly knew it was true.
"Do you like the rain?" he asked. He was leaning away from me, trying to inconspicuously catch a full breath. I acted as if I didn't notice.
"Not so much," I said, smiling a little. "It's all quite different than where I come from."
"I guess New Jersey does have more sunshine. Anywhere in the Continental United States would," he replied.
"How did you know I'm from New Jersey?" I asked, puzzled.
A quick look of surprise crossed his face, and then he calmed his expression. "Most people here seem to know that. It's unusual, for someone to move so far just to come to Forks."
I realized that his father could have mentioned it to him, as well. When we'd met, I told Dr. Cullen I'd moved from New Jersey. "I'm sure I'm not the only one to do it. People relocate all the time," I said.
He smiled a bit ruefully. "Yes, I've moved around somewhat myself." Then, as if afraid he'd said something he shouldn't, he turned the subject back to me. "So, you don't like the wet weather but you moved here anyway. What made you decide to leave New Jersey?"
It was odd, the way he asked the question. Everyone inquired about my reasons for coming to Forks, not the other way around.
"It's not a very interesting story," I said, and then winced a bit. My life had to be far less remarkable than that of this striking man sitting next to me. I glanced at him again and shrugged my shoulders.
"Oh, I'll bet that's not true," he said kindly. He looked at me intently, as if he really wanted to know.
I felt compelled to answer him honestly. I didn't know why -- I certainly didn't know if I could trust him, considering how he treated me the first time he saw me. "I guess you could say it was the right thing for me to do," I replied awkwardly. "I just…My boyfriend broke up with me earlier this year, and I realized I wanted to leave and see other parts of this country. I figured, now was the time." It sounded so lame, I did what I often do when I'm embarrassed and self-conscious: I made a joke. "You know, New Jersey has a reputation for its toxic waste. I had a toxic relationship. It was healthier to get far away from it."
He actually laughed -- a wonderful sound, melodious and light.
"That's just a stereotype," he said, smiling.
"It's accurate enough. But the negatives represent only a small part of what the state really is. I wish people were more open to its beauty," I replied.
"What do you mean?" He looked as if he couldn't contain his curiosity. I had no idea why this radiant man would want to pursue this conversation with me, and I didn't care.
"Anyone from outside the state seems more than willing to believe the worst about it. You know: a mob-infested pollution pit with ignorant residents and too many cars, " I said, inexplicably feeling homesick for New Jersey and wishing to explain it so he could understand. "Even those who have lived there all their lives think that way, as if they could never be better than that. New Jersey is so much more than its reputation." I stopped my rant because I noticed his hands were clenched in tight fists, and he was again leaning slightly away from me.
Rarely have I ever unleashed a torrent of words like that, and here I'd done it with Edward, of all people. I looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry. I must miss it more than I thought," I mumbled.
"Don't be sorry. That was actually quite poetic," he said, smiling. He looked a little more relaxed.
"Well, I'm no Walt Whitman or William Carlos Williams – both of whom are from New Jersey," I said, "but I do believe that it's unfair, the way my home state is portrayed."
"And you especially don't like anything that's unfair." He said this with complete certainty.
I blinked for a moment before replying. How could he know that about me? "No, I don't, but at the same time I have to acknowledge that life is unfair."
"Was it unfair that you left your home when your relationship ended?" he asked.
That question left me reeling. "Possibly. But it was my decision to go."
"It's quite a drastic reaction, to leave the place you were born and raised because of a failed romance," he said.
I looked at him, confused. "That's not entirely correct. It motivated me, but it wasn't the only reason. As I said, I wanted to make a change."
He seemed perplexed. "I don't understand."
"Actually, I'm not sure I do, either. I know my intuition told me to go, to take a chance at living on my own in a different place. And I also know that I do myself a great disservice, and create the most problems for myself, when I fail to listen to my intuition," I said. I thought about Bill and how I knew I never should have become involved with him. "Besides, haven't you ever found that putting distance between you and a problem helps you see your way to some type of resolution?"
Edward was regarding me with a kind of grave astonishment, as if I'd said something that resonated with him. "I have found that to be true, definitely," he said slowly. "So your stay here is temporary, then? Do you intend to work out the problems and then return to your boyfriend?"
"No, that's over," I said with finality. I swallowed and looked at my hands.
"It may be finished, but I think it's not completely over for you," he said.
Shocked, I snapped my head toward him, ready with an angry retort. But his eyes showed no mockery or callousness, just something that could almost be characterized as tenderness. "Yes," I said, wondering again why I was being so honest with him. "That's probably what I'm working on here, as I said earlier."
He didn't respond, quietly regarding me. As I looked at him, I saw something else that was different from the last time I'd seen him – more than just his mood. It was his eyes: the irises were clear amber. All trace of the blackness that was there last week was gone, save for his pupils.
"Did you get contact lenses?" I blurted.
He looked surprised, then confused. "No."
"Your eyes look different than they did last week.
He ducked his head and looked away from me. "No," he murmured, not meeting my gaze. "Maybe it's the lights."
I let it go. It had been a very unusual exchange. This beautiful stranger -- who evidently hated me last week -- had extracted vital personal information from me in less than five minutes. And I'd just completely ruined the mood with my impetuous question, when there were so many other things I wanted to ask him.
Larry stepped into the doorway of his office. "Edward, can I see you for a moment before you leave?"
"Certainly, Larry." Edward stood up quickly. At that moment, Janice walked in the door and began unbuttoning her coat, ignoring us – or me, at least.
"Well, Bella, I hope you have a good week. I'm sure things will get better for you as time goes on," Edward said.
"Thank you," I replied. I looked up at him. "It was nice talking with you." And it was, even if it did leave me mystified.
He smiled at me again and walked up between the desks and around to Larry's office. Rick arrived then, still slightly damp from the rain but grinning and wanting to talk about my weekend conversations with Jacob Black and Ellen.