Bella gets to take the cat home -- yay! She and Alice get their first glimpse of each other, but it's abruptly cut short.
Bella, Chapter 6
I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, unwilling to return there alone. I was disappointed that my time with Edward didn't last longer, yet I knew I was lucky I'd had it at all. It was the strangest coincidence that he happened to be driving on Route 101 while I was there with the cat. Although I was sure I would have made it safely back to Forks, I was grateful for his help.
I felt a quiet thrill reliving the conversation we'd had. It was intimate and sweet. Despite my constant nervousness around him, our exchange today seemed natural and unforced, even easy. My stupid tendency to open my mouth and say the wrong thing didn't appear to offend him. It didn't seem like he was just being gracious, either.
On the other hand, speaking of offensive...why did I have to be riding a bike for all that time before I found the cat and Edward found me? It's probably going to take him days to get my smell out of his car.
I flicked on the kitchen light and my gaze was immediately drawn to the new coffeemaker. I'd forgotten to say anything about it. Maybe, subconsciously, I was afraid to, even if I was certain it was from him. I wasn't quite sure how he would have reacted if I'd been so forthright. I could always bring it up on Monday morning, when Edward and I would be working together again. It would be more subtle if I walked in with my travel mug held prominently in my hand. And what should I wear on Monday? Pants again, in case I caused some other unnatural disaster?
Sighing, I headed for the shower. I planned to make dinner and spend a quiet evening at home, reading and getting to sleep early. Today had been my first real opportunity to ride my bike since moving to Forks, and I was out of shape. I knew I'd be sore tomorrow, and adequate rest would help me cope with that.
It felt good to climb into a familiar, worn pair of pajamas. I curled up in bed and pulled out my frayed copy of Kazuo Ishiguro's "The Remains of the Day." I'm always drawn into this novel no matter how many times I've read it. The story elegantly combines some of my favorite themes, like love, lost opportunity, history, repression and loyalty. Tonight, though, my mind kept straying until I finally realized it was hopeless. I'd just read the same paragraph for the sixth time. If only I could sleep! Tired as I was, I couldn't power down my brain. It was like a television that wouldn't turn off, and Edward was on every channel. I tossed for a few hours until I fell into a fitful doze, burdened again by strange dreams of animals, shadows and a forest.
The rich aroma and soft puff-puff-gurgle of brewing coffee woke me pleasantly on Sunday morning. Knowing I had a lot to get done, I allowed myself the sole luxury of two mugs of coffee and a quick read of the Seattle Times. The apartment hadn't been cleaned since I moved here, so I put on some Miles Davis and devoted a few hours to housekeeping. I received a call from the vet's office about the cat; she was doing well and responding to hydration, so the doctor told me I could pick her up tomorrow after work.
It's not hard finding excuses to avoid cleaning, and now I had one that was perfect: I needed cat supplies. I ran to the supermarket and picked up food, litter, and a few toys to try and help her feel at home. I'd have to think of a name for her. "Lucky" seemed too obvious. "Chance" might work, although it sounded kind of blunt. I flipped through a mental list of names familiar from literature: Emma, Elizabeth, Darcy (which could also work for a female), or even Desdemona. Then it came to me, the perfect name: Faith. It was even more symbolic than a literary heroine, and much stronger than Chance or Lucky. Faith meant purpose in action, and I really like that. I'd had faith that moving here would be good for me. And having Faith would be good, too.
On Monday morning, I showered and reviewed the clothes I'd set out for the day. I decided to tempt fate by wearing a dress. Perhaps it would inspire me to be more careful and less clumsy. Right before I left New Jersey, I'd found a beautiful coral stretch nylon wrap that I've been wanting to wear. The color was bright but not overwhelming; for a typically rainy Monday in Forks, it was nicely cheerful. I grabbed my travel mug of coffee and headed out the door, my pulse already racing.
Walking to the pharmacy with even a couple of things to carry is always a challenge for me. I balanced my purse, a tote with my shoes, and my coffee, praying that I wouldn't dump the liquid all over myself and ruin my day before I'd even clocked in. It felt as if my heart was pumping harder with each step that brought me closer to my desk, and to Edward.
Success: I made it to the door without spilling the coffee. More success: I hit the buttons for the access code and got it right the first time. And the icing on the cake of non-awkwardness: I was able to open the door and walk in without dropping objects, stumbling, or otherwise making a fool of myself.
He was already there, of course. As soon as I dared, I looked up at him and smiled. Edward was smiling at me too, and had been since I entered. I could feel his eyes on me, and the sensation flooded me with warmth.
Edward greeted me and asked about the cat. I told him she'd be coming home with me later this afternoon. Feeling giddy, I asked him if we should share custody of her since he'd lent a hand in her rescue. "No, thank you. Allergies," he reminded me, amused. He'd told me that only two days ago. He must think I'm an imbecile.
"I hope Rick brings his own coffee today," I said, holding forth my travel mug. I couldn't help but feel delighted and slightly mischievous. "No trips to the cafeteria for me – I'm back to brewing my own." I made a bit of a show of drinking it, still smiling.
Edward returned my grin, saying, "Well, that's great."
"It IS!" I enthused. "I have a new home brewing coffee system," I explained theatrically, "and it's wonderful. This coffee is delicious." Edward's response was simply to sit there, looking at me perceptively but not speaking. I felt certain we each knew what the other meant, and didn't need to say anything else.
Rick arrived at that point, grousing about the weather in less-than-measured tones. "Okay, then, Janice," I said casually. Both he and Edward laughed.
I'd hoped we could continue this engaging start and talk more as we'd done on Friday, but the work conspired against us. Typical Monday: the prescriptions flew in through the dropoff as new admissions flooded the hospital and doctors visited patients they hadn't seen over the weekend. The volume of assignments left no time for socializing. Rick helped out where he could but was also kept occupied with ensuring that the shelves were adequately stocked and the computer log was always updated.
We established a rhythm that allowed us to get the work done smoothly, sharing the counter space and evenly dividing it all up. While this certainly wasn't as rewarding as conversing directly with Edward, I found that simply being around him, albeit in a strictly professional, nearly wordless capacity, was satisfying in its own way. I was seeing another side of him, the part that was a very capable pharmacist, an organized and considerate coworker, and a supportive colleague. My heart didn't race as much as when I spoke with him, but that was probably for the better because it was easier to concentrate. There was still real joy in work today.
In the afternoon, Larry came out of his office and noted the lack of laughter, especially compared to the previous Friday. We kidded a little about the pace of our workday and how it killed off any sense of humor for the time being. Rick suddenly – logically – associated that with the return of Janice tomorrow. He tried in vain to talk Edward into switching to days. Worse, he tried to enlist me in this cause.
The very idea prompted my otherwise composed heart to leap. Outwardly, I managed to keep calm, reminding Rick that in order for his plan to succeed, Janice would have to agree to it. There was a greater chance that Forks would enjoy more sunshine than Las Vegas throughout the next year.
"A minor point! Come on, don't you want Edward to stay with us?" Rick whined.
Oh, yes. Yes, I do, Rick, and if you keep egging me on until I say that, I'm going to lose it...no matter that you're my friend and I know you don't understand how you're killing me over here…
Okay, maybe if I acknowledged Rick's idea, he'd tone it down. "He's definitely better company than Janice, that's true." A genuine understatement.
Curious, I used the opportunity to ask Edward how he managed to completely reverse the normal sleep pattern and work overnight. I've always wondered about people who are able to do that. In college, when so many of my friends were either studying or partying at all hours, I always knocked off before anyone else.
"I rest when I can," he replied evasively.
I made a joke about his circadian rhythms and left it at that. He seemed to be increasingly uncomfortable with this conversation. It seemed he didn't want to permanently work during the day, even though most people prefer that shift. Maybe he really liked the pace of overnights. Maybe he really was a night owl. Maybe he didn't want to work with me all the time.
Maybe it was time for me to stop being so obsessed. I had just left a really bad relationship; I didn't believe I had the courage to get into another one. (I was still at the stage where I assumed all relationships with men would be bad, or end badly, or both.) I had no right thinking about Edward constantly. Even after seeing the way he looked at me sometimes, as if I might be of some interest, I couldn't assume that I meant anything to him. All I had to do was look at him to know we inhabited different worlds. It was unlikely I could be a part of his without getting called out as a fraud.
Somewhat depressed, I left work and drove to the vet. I was anxious to see the cat and wondered if she'd remember me. With any luck, we'd get used to each other and settle into a long, happy life together. I've never understood some people's aversions to cats. Every one I've owned has been affectionate, even-tempered and good company. Their independence doesn't bother me; if anything, I appreciate it. Cats take care of themselves very well, which is a huge advantage over dogs when you work all day.
I lugged the cat carrier into the vet's office and the receptionist greeted me before I said anything. Surprised, I realized she remembered me from the day I brought the cat in. Pulling out my checkbook, I began writing the name of the veterinary practice and asked the receptionist the amount, holding my breath. If it exceeded what I could pay right now, I'd throw myself at their mercy and ask for a payment plan. I hoped they wouldn't hold the cat hostage until I settled up.
"Oh, it's all paid," she said, smiling.
"What? How?"
"Well, um, someone's paid it for you."
"Really?" I was completely confused. "I mean, who? How did that happen?"
"I'm not exactly at liberty to say," she replied, lowering her voice and looking at me conspiratorially, "but it seems you have a benefactor."
I shook my head and blinked my eyes like a cartoon character. I wasn't understanding this at all. "I have a...okay, so someone took care of the bill? And I don't owe anything?"
"No, nothing at all. In fact," the receptionist continued, and I could tell she was enjoying this, "you won't have to pay any fees at all in the future. Any time you bring the cat in, the cost will be taken care of for you."
"Excuse me?" I said loudly, my eyes wide.
"You don't owe us anything now, and you won't owe us anything ever in the future," she said patiently. There wasn't any sarcasm in her voice, though; she must have been anticipating my reaction.
"Wow. Huh. How?" I was the poster child for monosyllabic idiocy today.
"Just appreciate it, dear," she advised me, smiling.
A vet tech led me to an examination room to wait while he brought in the cat. She was quiet, alert, and extremely nervous, probably from the smell of other animals. Edgy as she was, she still looked one hundred percent improved over the last time I'd seen her. Even her coat was softer and almost glossy. The second I took her from the tech, she was mine.
I put her gently into the carrier and made my way out to the car. I stopped at the desk to thank the receptionist again and said, "I can't resist asking: how much was the fee for her treatment?"
"For a two-night stay, vet care, medicine, the IV, the tests...about $600," she said.
Whew. That would have knocked me around a bit. "Thanks."
I'd asked Mrs. Farrelly if I could have a pet, of course, but other than that, the one person who knew about the cat was Edward. And I'd told him I was concerned about being able to pay the vet. Who else would have done this? Who else could have?
A mix of emotions flooded through me. Gratitude, for one – this had made my financial situation quite better. Awe, at his generosity and consideration. Curiosity, burning like a bonfire, wanting to know why. And flattery. This was no idle gesture.
Edward deserved thanks for this far more than for the coffeemaker. But how could I thank him? He clearly didn't want me to know; otherwise, why would he have told the receptionist not to tell me? Why the determination to remain anonymous?
He probably suspected I wouldn't accept the money from him if he'd offered. And he'd be right: it would have made me feel like a charity case, and I didn't want him thinking of me in that manner.
It was as if he knew that. How?
I had no answer. I ached with the desire to find out, though. Why did he do it? How did he know what my reaction would be? And how could I ever thank him? I felt truly, horribly guilty at not being able to show him my appreciation. Paying the cost of Faith's treatment was one thing; picking up the tab for everything else was quite another. This could run thousands of dollars.
Edward, you are a puzzle that will not be solved, I mused.
I would like to try, though.
Faith howled almost the entire way home. Fortunately, it was a short ride. I carried her carefully upstairs, talking to her in a soothing voice. I set the carrier on the kitchen floor, opened the door and let her come out in her own time.
Cautiously, she crept to the front of the carrier and sniffed the air. She looked around and timidly put one front paw outside of the door, carefully surveying everything in the area, including me. Although she'd clearly hated being in the cat carrier, she seemed to have second thoughts now that she was in another completely unfamiliar place.
"Come on, girlfriend," I encouraged her. I waited until she either spotted or smelled the cat food I'd put in a corner of the kitchen, then proceeded to ignore her for awhile, letting her eat and check out her new home. Paranoid pet-owner that I am, I made sure there were no cracks or breaks in the walls, floors or anywhere that she could fall through. Although not a tiny kitten, she definitely wasn't full grown.
I fulfilled my promise to bring in coffee for Rick on Tuesday. He was impressed.
"Wow, where'd you get this?"
"I finally got a new coffeemaker," I said,
"Must be a darn good one," he said, keeping his comments minimal so he could keep drinking.
"It is. It was a present. But the really important thing is the coffee itself," I said hurriedly, switching the subject before he could ask who gave me the gift. We discussed different brands, and I veered him off into an evaluation of Peet's Coffee, my very favorite.
Janice arrived, looking none too pleased about being at work. I smiled directly at her and said, "Welcome back, Janice."
She glanced at me as if I was rat dander and said, "Thank you." No "hello," no "how are you," nothing at all like that. She sat down at her desk and put her purse away before flipping through the prescriptions left out for her.
Rick shot me a look that said, "I told you we should have switched her with Edward while we had the chance." I gave him a "Sorry about that" expression before beginning my own work.
Tuesday ended peacefully – no confrontations between myself and Janice, or anyone else, for that matter. My tendency to attract unwanted male attention seemed to have subsided for the moment. No men came to the pharmacy asking to talk only to me. I did think about Edward periodically, and that took up most of whatever free space I may have had in my head while at work.
I knew he was scheduled to work Tuesday night. My stomach and heart did little flip-flops at the thought of seeing him again in the morning. Only one day had gone by since we were both on duty in the pharmacy, yet it seemed like a much longer time to me. It was getting harder to avoid feelings like that.
When Wednesday arrived, I was more nervous than I'd been on Monday for some inexplicable reason. I tried to calm down on the drive to work, but I found myself constantly jumping ahead in my thoughts, wondering what we would talk about this morning and hoping the discussion might continue beyond his normal departure time. He didn't seem to mind staying a little later to talk to me a week ago. Heck, he didn't seem to mind picking me up while I was carrying an injured cat, and then paying for the cat to stay healthy. Maybe, this morning, more conversation would provide me with one or two more pieces of the puzzle.
I drove up through the garage, still lost in thought. After locking the car, I turned to walk to the hospital entrance. I was parked head in, with the rear of the Subaru facing the ramp where cars progressed through the three-level garage. I strolled diagonally across the concrete to the door. At that moment, I saw Edward and a tiny young woman on their way out. The woman gasped and Edward looked at her quickly, then his head whipped around toward me with a horrified look on his face.
I was so distracted by them that I barely heard a car speeding up the ramp. Then I saw the vehicle -- a large, late-model station wagon fishtailing as it attempted to turn into the aisle. The driver was rapidly losing control. He braked and turned the wheel frantically, his face in total shock as it became apparent to both he and I that he would hit me because there was no time for me to get out of the way.
I froze right in the middle of the aisle. The next thing I knew, something hard was smashing into my side, knocking me to the ground and dragging me to a space between two cars. The station wagon collided with a car parked on the left and continued sliding right at me. I saw two feet move with blinding speed and kick the rear passenger-side wheel, pushing it away from my legs, which were exactly in the car's path. The station wagon bounced and tipped slightly on the two wheels of its driver's side, and then came crashing down.
Glass shattered, followed briefly by eerie silence. Then, pandemonium started. The driver was screaming and crying that his wife was in the back seat, and that she needed a doctor. Dazed, I realized that I was on the ground, on my side, with someone half on top of me, one arm around my waist. It was Edward.
"Bella, are you all right?" he asked in a low voice.
I looked up, still stunned. "I - yes, I think so." I glanced down at my leg. I had fallen on my right side and banged my knee. My pants were frayed from being dragged, but it didn't feel as if I had any scrapes or broken skin.
Edward and I stared at each other without speaking while chaos reigned three feet away. Other hospital staff who were also arriving at work swarmed around the ruined station wagon. The woman in the back seat was screaming, her husband still crying and intermittently apologizing to anyone who would listen. I was trying to absorb what I'd just been through, and what I'd seen. Finally I said, "The woman in the car -- is she okay?
Edward regarded me with amazement. "Other than being in labor, yes, she is." I wanted to ask how he knew that, but another question popped out first.
"Was that your sister?"
Now he looked at me blankly. "What?"
"The woman who was with you -- is she your sister?"
Edward gave a low, throaty chuckle. "Yes, that's my sister Alice. Why do you want to know that?" At this point, he had moved away and was squatting next to me.
"Where is she? She must be worried about you."
His face darkened slightly and he said, "She can't get here with this mess around us." I started to rise but Edward held me down, gently yet firmly. "No, stay right where you are. You might be injured."
"I really think I'm okay."
"You aren't hurt anywhere? What about your head?"
I shook it. "I don't think I hit it, but I'm not sure," I confessed. "My knee seemed to absorb most of the blow."
Staff from inside the building had heard the crash by now and were running out. Someone called inside for gurneys.
Edward touched my leg gently, moving it a little so he could look carefully where my pants were torn. "Your suit is ruined. I'm sorry about that."
I laughed a little. "No, believe me, it's okay. Function over form is fine when you're saving my life," I said, looking him in the eyes again.
He stared back at me, his gaze roaming my face. My pulse raced, my heart thudding to a much quicker tempo. For a moment, I couldn't even recall my surroundings. Then I remembered the shock of it all happening. "How did you get to me so fast?" I asked him.
His eyes widened briefly before he composed his expression. "Bella, I was right here."
"You were over there with your sister," I said, nodding toward the entrance.
He looked at me more intently. "No, Bella, I was here. I was walking ahead of her to unlock my car. It's just a few spaces away," he said.
"No," I insisted. "I saw you by the door. Both of you."
He was about to say something else when I heard people shouting, "Down here! It's Bella and Edward! Get some more gurneys!"
Edward jumped up. "I'm alright. I don't need any help. We have to get Bella to the ER -- she needs x-rays of her knee, and she may have a head injury," he called back.
I shot him a look. "You fell too," I mumbled. "You should also get checked out." I didn't know if he heard me because I suddenly felt quite intimidated and my voice went low. I knew what I saw, and yet he was trying to talk me out of it. And how was it we were alive in the first place? The rear of the station wagon should have flattened the both of us, but he had kicked it away with his legs.
Edward regarded me again. "I'm not hurt. I don't know whether we can say the same for you, though. Let's get you inside," he said, clearly in response to my comment.
I saw John Blackhorse's face peer around the smashed vehicles, above the space where Edward and I hit the ground. He spotted me and panic crossed his face. "Bella! Bella, are you okay?"
Edward glanced at him, and I could swear a look of annoyance shaded his features. "She isn't seriously injured, but she needs medical attention. I'm sure that car won't be gone for awhile, though," he said, gesturing toward the station wagon. The pregnant woman and her husband had already been brought into the hospital. "I'd rather not move her, but the only way we can get her out is if I lift her up. Do you have a gurney right here?"
"No," I moaned.
Swiftly, Edward was back on the ground alongside me. "What is it? Does something else hurt you?" His eyes grew wide, and his fists tightened.
"It isn't that. Please, do you have to pick me up and wheel me into the hospital?"
He looked amused again. "I really don't think you can climb over these cars and sprint into the building," he said.
I glared at him. "I wasn't planning to race you there."
He laughed and then his face became serious, as if he was about to do something he knew was necessary but didn't want to do. I figured he was not thrilled with having to hold me; he was only doing what was right. "I'm going to lift you now. I'll try my best not to jostle you too much," he said in one breath.
Before I knew it, I was in his arms. My face must have been scarlet; I could feel it. Edward held me out, away from his body, and handed me quickly but gently to John. I glanced back at him in embarrassment; he looked as if he wasn't breathing.
John didn't seem as concerned about speed as Edward did. He held me closer to his chest, walking slowly to the gurney. "How are you feeling? What hurts?"
My right knee, which was now dangling over his arm, was throbbing. "It's my knee. I can move it so I hope it's not broken, but it does ache." He shifted his hold to try and make it a little more comfortable. I looked up to see Edward talking to the young woman he'd walked out with -- his sister, Alice. She didn't seem very worried about his well being. Several times as they talked, she looked at me with a mix of concern and consternation.
John placed me carefully on the gurney and one of the ER nurses moved to my side to clamp a neck brace on me. "Is this really necessary?" I whispered as she bent over me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward grin. How had he heard me? He was at least six feet away. Even John, who was at the foot of the gurney, didn't look at me after I said that.
"Yes, honey, it's a precaution," The ER nurse was using medical terms of endearment – she must be experienced. "We'll get it off as soon as we can, I promise."
Off we rode to the Emergency Room: me, the damsel in distress (mostly from embarrassment); the nurse, John, and Edward. There was no sign of Edward's sister; I assumed she'd left.
The station wagon's occupants had probably been moved to the labor and delivery unit. At the moment, there were no other patients in the ER. Good thing, too, because my posse was growing. Someone must have alerted the pharmacy as to why I hadn't reported to work, because Phil and Rick came running over. (Janice was conspicuous by her absence; I cut her some slack, though, realizing that someone had to deal with the prescriptions.) Both of them looked panicked when they saw me with the neck brace on. This stupid thing was scaring people.
"Bella! Oh my God, are you all right?" Rick said hoarsely.
I grinned. "Just making a spectacular entrance."
Rick smiled back in relief. "Bad joke. You must have hit your head."
"Wait'll you see what I do tomorrow," I said, wiggling my eyebrows.
Edward groaned. "Don't encourage her, Rick."
Phil started to ask me where I'd been hurt, but at that moment the physician arrived. It was Dr. Cullen.
"My first patient of the day! Well, Bella, what happened?"
I looked around the hospital bed from left to right. There stood John, Edward, Phil, Rick, and now Dr. Cullen, all staring at me. This situation might have been entertaining if it wasn't so humiliating. With Edward watching me even more intently than the others, I became cautious in my reply.
"I fell," I said, like a halfwit.
Dr. Cullen chuckled. "I figured it was something like that. Can you be a little more specific?"
I inhaled and said carefully, "I was walking from my car to the entrance when the station wagon came up the ramp and the driver lost control. Edward was there and he jumped ahead of the car and pulled me away, into a space between two parked cars." It wasn't exactly true, but it would do for purposes of this discussion.
"Did you hit your head?" Dr. Cullen asked.
"I don't think so, but I'm not completely sure. I banged my knee. It's a little sore, but I can move it," I answered.
He began moving his fingers gently along my scalp, examining for any bumps. As he was slightly bent over me, I noticed his cologne. It was a warm yet masculine scent, like worn clean leather and cedar chips and flannel. "I'm going to order a skull x-ray just in case, and we'll also need to take some films of your knee, of course," Dr. Cullen explained.
Then, he slowly manipulated my leg to see if my knee could bend without too much pain. He pulled out a penlight to check my pupils and their response to light. "Does your head hurt?"
"No, not at all."
"Do you feel queasy?"
"Only from embarrassment."
Everyone laughed. "Regrettably, I can't give you a cure for that," Dr. Cullen said. "After we look at your x-rays, I'll check back in with you."
I made a face. "How long is this going to take?"
Dr. Cullen looked at me sternly. "As long as it needs to, young lady."
I glanced around again. There were still five men around my bed – the first time that had ever happened, to be sure. "Doesn't anybody else work around here?" I said in mock disgust.
John said eagerly, "I'll get you to x-ray. I'm sure the techs will take you right away."
Suddenly, I remembered the other patient from this morning. "Dr. Cullen, how is the woman who was in the car?"
"She didn't have any injuries, fortunately. She's in labor now. Judging by the way things were progressing, it shouldn't be much longer for her," he replied.
I smiled. "I'll have to meet that baby later. We've got a bit of a connection now."
John moved behind me to push the bed out of the ER and over to the x-ray department. To both our surprise, Edward grabbed the foot of the bed and led the way. I heard John snort in disgust. Edward smiled at me and then quickly looked away.
We waited in the hall while John walked to the desk and gave them the order. "I can stay with her from here on in, John," Edward said authoritatively. "I know you have to return to the ER."
"No, I'm good," John protested. "There aren't any other patients."
"I'm off duty, though, so I've got no responsibilities. If we need your help, I'll come right back and get you," Edward replied firmly, although his tone left little doubt that wouldn't happen.
John grumbled something I couldn't hear and walked reluctantly back to the ER. I watched until he was out of earshot, and then I said to Edward, "Thank you. I don't want to feel any more indebted to him than I already do."
He gave me that lovely crooked smile and said, "You're welcome." His face became serious, as if he was thinking of something that concerned him.
"But I owe you the biggest thanks out of everyone. If you hadn't seen me and pulled me out of the way, I would be dead," I said, still looking directly at him.
"You owe me no debt at all. Any decent person would have done the same thing," he said briskly.
"Please don't make this seem smaller than it is," I said, and then drew in a sharp breath in anticipation of what I had to ask next. "How did you do that?" I whispered.
His eyes widened in panic again for a brief second before he said, "Do what? Bella, I told you, I was right there –"
"I'll get to that in a minute," I interrupted him. "How did you stop the car?"
Edward feigned confusion. "It hit the car next to us. The crash stopped it."
"No," I said. I was fearful of pushing this with him, but I had to put it out there. Something was – well, if not wrong, then surely unnatural. "I know what I saw."
He met my hard stare, trying to appear innocent. "What do you think you saw?"
"I know I saw you at the hospital entrance. You were there with your sister," I said, speaking in a rush because I was so nervous. "And then I saw the car coming straight for me. Next thing I know, I'm on the ground and you're right by my side, pulling me between the parked cars. The station wagon kept coming, and you kicked it. You kicked it so it not only stopped, it moved back and the entire car tipped on its side."
Edward looked at me in shock. I could feel the blush moving up my neck and face. He swallowed hard and said, "Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?"
I snapped, "Do you have any idea how crazy that looked?" Tears of frustration filled my eyes. Either he didn't believe me or he didn't trust me with the truth.
He looked away and murmured, "No one would believe you. You could have hit your head."
A tear rolled down my cheek at this fresh insult. "I. Would. Never. Tell. Anybody," I snarled through gritted teeth.
Edward watched me, at a loss for words. The technician came out and said, "Bella, let's get you in here now." I wiped away the tears before she could see.
I stared at the ceiling while Edward pushed the bed into the room where the equipment was located. He moved to pick me up and lift me to the table underneath the machine, but I pushed at his hands, still angry. "I can walk," I muttered. The unusual chill of his fingers reminded me that he had yet to overtly deny anything.
"We don't know the extent of your injuries. Just behave for a minute here, okay?" he said.
I was so furious at his condescending tone that I almost shoved myself away from him, disregarding for the moment that I was in his arms again. But in seconds, he'd laid me gently on the table.
"I'll wait outside until you're done."
"Don't bother. I've inconvenienced you enough," I said thickly.
I heard him sigh. "I'll wait."
The tech was quick and efficient. In less than ten minutes, she'd taken several views of my skull and numerous films of my knee from every conceivable angle.
"Do you need help getting back on the gurney? I can get -" she started to ask.
"No, I'm fine, really. They're all babying me and it's embarrassing." I cut her off. I was still emotional, and it made me rude.
True to his word, Edward was right outside the screening room. He brought me back to the ER and pushed the gurney into the curtained area where I'd been before. John came rushing over and I saw Edward roll his eyes as he straightened the bed while holding the siderail. I hid my grin.
"Bella! How are you? How'd everything go?" John said anxiously.
"Fine, John," I responded. "You were right – x-ray was great about getting this taken care of quickly."
The three of us looked at each other awkwardly. "Well, Rick asked me to call him when you got back, so I'll do that now," John said, sounding annoyed.
When he'd disappeared from view, I turned my gaze to Edward again. "So."
"So," he replied, unwilling to elaborate.
"Okay, look, I know you don't owe me anything. You just saved my life. But can I ask one more thing of you?"
"What's that?" he asked warily.
"Can we continue this conversation another time?"
"Perhaps."
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "I will not tell anyone. And I do not want to make you uncomfortable," I said firmly, my gaze locked in his, "but understand, I'm essentially lying to everyone here. I don't like that."
"I know," he said seriously. "Bella, please believe me, it did not happen the way you -- "
We heard footsteps approaching the curtains. It was Dr. Cullen, who said, "I've reviewed your films, Bella, and I'm happy to say that everything looks fine."
"Wow, that was fast," I said, watching Edward out of the corner of my eye.
"You picked a good day to give us all a bad scare. There are very few outpatients right now, so the radiologist and I were able to go through the x-rays right away," Dr. Cullen explained.
Rick arrived then and stood at the foot of my bed. "Hey, how are you?"
"Dr. Cullen says things look good," I replied.
"Your knee isn't broken or fractured, and there don't appear to be any tears in any tendons. It's probably just bruised. Alternate cold packs with heat, and it will help with any swelling. Do you need a prescription for pain?" the doctor asked.
"No, I think I'll be okay. Can I go back to work now?" I asked hopefully.
Dr. Cullen shook his head. "You need to go home and rest. I want you to stay home tomorrow, too, and give your knee a chance to recover. If your leg doesn't hurt on Friday when you put any pressure on it, you can return to the pharmacy." Frowning, he asked, "Do you have anyone who can stay with you at least through this evening?"
"No…why?" I asked.
"Even though your skull x-rays don't show any injury, I'd feel better if you had someone there if you feel sick or become unconscious," he said.
"I'm sure Ellen could stay with her," Rick suggested.
"Nooo," I moaned. "Seriously, I'll be fine."
"Bella, please be a good patient and let people help you," Dr. Cullen admonished me gently. "Rick, thank you. That would be an excellent idea."
I let my head fall back against the pillow and sighed heavily. Rick offered to take me home, and then returned to the pharmacy to give Phil an update.
When I looked up again, Dr. Cullen was filling out the discharge order form, which he handed over to me. "Try to keep your knee slightly elevated, perhaps with a pillow underneath it."
"Will do. Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate everything you've done for me," I said sincerely.
He smiled at me affectionately and smoothed my hair. "You're very welcome. I'm glad I was here today. If you need more help, call the ER and I'll make sure the staff knows to contact me immediately." I didn't miss the look he exchanged with Edward before leaving.
And again, it was just the two of us, the way it had started in the garage this morning. I wanted to get out of the hospital bed once and for all, but with the siderails up, there was no way to do that except slide myself all the way down to the foot and jump to the floor – not a good idea, considering. I was forced to ask for his help.
Quickly, he moved the rail down and watched carefully as I sat up and swung my legs slowly over the side of the bed. He hesitated for a second before gently taking my elbow to steady me as I stood. Even through my suit jacket, I could feel the icy temperature of his skin. It was noticeable but it didn't bother me. Somehow, I'd come to know it as just a part of him. I inhaled deeply as I got on my feet for the first time in a couple of hours, and it was then I noticed the wonderful smell. Edward was right next to me, and I realized he must also be wearing men's cologne, like his dad. But the scent had a different, distinct flavor: crisp, clean, and fragrant, like fresh linen or a light ocean wind, blended with honeysuckle and lavender. It was intoxicating. Distracted, I tottered and almost fell into him.
He grabbed me and swiftly set me upright, releasing me from his cold hands almost immediately. "Are you all right? Do you feel dizzy?" he asked, concerned.
I shook my head. "I'm okay. Really. It's just from laying in that bed all morning." I began limping away.
Edward followed me. "Would you like a pair of crutches?"
"No."
I swear I could feel his smirk from behind me. "I thought not, but I figured I'd ask. It would be a smart idea, you know."
I turned to look at him. "I live on the second floor. Can you imagine me trying to get up the stairs with a pair of crutches?"
He reconsidered. "Good point."
"Anyway, Rick will help me," I said, nodding my chin towards the ER entrance. Rick was walking towards us.
I'd just remembered that the Subaru was in the garage. "How am I going to get my car home?" I said.
"I'll bring it over," Edward offered.
"Then how will you get home?"
Exasperated, he replied. "I can have my mother pick me up. Please stop worrying about silly details."
I opened my mouth with a snappy reply but thought better of it. The three of us walked to the entrance, where I waited while Rick brought his car around. Edward stood there with me.
"I really hope this all hasn't kept you from whatever plans you had today," I said as I removed my car key from the key ring. He carefully took it without touching any part of my hand.
"No, it's no problem. It's still quite early," Edward replied. His head was down, as if for all the world the sidewalk was the most fascinating object in existence.
I was working up the nerve to ask him over for dinner this weekend when Rick pulled up. Edward opened the passenger door as Rick came around to help me get into the car. There was no way I would say anything to Edward except "goodbye" while Rick was there. I clicked the seatbelt in place and turned to Edward one last time through the open window. I can't imagine how I looked to him. At that moment, I was frustrated and disappointed and mystified and...sore.
"Thank you, again. That's pretty inadequate considering you literally saved my life," I said softly, "but I want you to know how strongly I feel." Take that however you like, Edward, I thought.
For a moment, his glorious face showed the same near-passion as the day he'd dropped me off at home, after I found Faith. "You are most welcome, Bella," he said quietly.
As we left the garage, Rick saw my expression and assumed it was from the pain in my knee. "It's not too horrible," I said, my voice nearly cracking. Now that the worst was over, the entire morning's events were catching up with me and my emotions were overflowing.
"Sorry, Rick, I'm suddenly feeling overwhelmed," I explained weakly. He looked at me and squeezed my hand. "Hey, no worries. Your reaction is perfectly normal. What happened today was terrifying," he said sympathetically.
I'd almost died and Edward saved me. I'd been taken to the ER and Edward stayed with me. I'd said goodbye to Edward and I grieved as if I'd never see him again. I felt mournful, like I was missing something I'd only recently become aware was vitally important. Edward's refusal to acknowledge what I'd seen hurt me. What could possibly explain how a man is that strong and fast? The truth, whatever it was, had to be some closely-guarded secret. I couldn't expect him to immediately take me into his confidence.
Rick was waiting for some sign of life. "Hey," I said brightly, "Ellen really doesn't have to come over tonight. I'm sure I'll be fine."
"You heard what the doctor said," he reminded me, frowning. "And anyway, I've already called her. She's happy to help out."
We were back at the apartment. Rick helped me get up the stairs and I thanked him profusely. My one accomplishment today was showing gratitude to all the people who'd helped me. Truly, I was overcome. I realized there were actually quite a few people in Forks who cared about my welfare. The sweetness of their concern warmed me and made my house arrest much easier to bear.
Within the hour, I heard Ellen call up the stairs to me. She arrived with a pizza and a salad, bless her thoughtful soul. I started to apologize for imposing, but Ellen held out her hand, palm facing me, and turned her head away in a classic "girl, please"gesture.
We sat in the living room and ate while Faith circled us, gradually working her way over to Ellen as her uncertainty over the stranger wore away. I told Ellen that no matter what, I intended to show up for my first tutoring session tomorrow.
"Look, if your knee is still hurting, stay home. I don't want you there if it's gonna set you back," she warned.
I shook my head. "It's already feeling better." Thank goodness that was true. "The heat and cold packs have made a difference. I guess having it elevated is good, too." I decided to fish around for her opinion of Edward. "I'm so fortunate that Edward Cullen saw me. I could have been dead otherwise," I added.
"Rick told me something about that. Edward pushed you out of the way?" she asked.
"Yeah. Once I finally saw the car, I just froze right in the middle of the garage. He ran over and shoved me between two parked cars."
Ellen smirked. "Well, that should shut the mouths of some of the tribal elders."
I stared at her, my interest piqued. "What do you mean?"
She exhaled and thought for a moment, a pensive look on her face. "A lot of tribe members don't like the Cullens. They're very superstitious about them." It seemed as if she wanted to say more, but stopped.
Puzzled, I asked, "Superstitious?"
Ellen responded, "Did you know that the Quileute tribe is supposedly descended from wolves?"
I raised my eyebrows. "No. That's really fascinating. Is that one of your legends?"
"Yes. A few generations back, as the story goes, the tribal elders found some people hunting on their lands. These weren't...well, supposedly, they weren't human."
"What, like...aliens?"
Ellen laughed. "No, a different kind of supernatural. They were called 'the cold ones' by our tribe because they were very cold to the touch."
I was completely still. "Cold, as in physically cold? Their skin was colder than normal?"
She nodded. "Exactly. The Quileutes didn't want them on our land because they were believed to be very dangerous to humans. But these 'cold ones' came to our chief and elders and struck a treaty. The Quileutes wouldn't reveal their secret, and they assured the tribe they wouldn't hurt our people because they only hunted animals."
I felt as if every nerve was strung tight – tensed, waiting for something bad to happen. "Hunted? What do you mean?"
Ellen grimaced. "You know of beings like this through your own stories. You call them vampires."
I stared at her. "Are you saying these people...wait, are we talking about the Cullens here?"
She looked at the floor. "I shouldn't be talking about any of this." She sighed. "But the superstitions make me crazy. I've met Dr. Cullen, and he's the nicest man and most caring doctor. We're lucky to have him here. It's stupid, the way people believe these old tales."
"Look, I don't want to get you in trouble..." my voice trailed off. But since Ellen had revealed this much, I wasn't going to let it go. "So, the Cullens are related to these 'cold ones' that your ancestors knew?"
Ellen turned to face me. "They're the same."
"The same? The same people? How long ago are we talking about here?"
She hesitated. "About 100 years, I think."
I sat there, dumbfounded. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Look, it's silly. It's just old superstitions, like I said," Ellen declared abruptly, standing and picking up the empty pizza box. Faith, who had been watching us from the end of the couch, scurried off into the bedroom.
I watched the cat run away. "But the legends have to be rooted in some fact, right? Otherwise, how could they become legends?"
She scanned my face. "I never should have said anything. I've upset you, and you're supposed to be resting. I'm sorry."
"I'm not upset," I lied smoothly. "And I won't let anyone know you've told me. Please don't worry about that. I wouldn't even say anything to Rick," I assured her.
She turned around to give me a pointed look. "Especially not Rick. He gets furious when this comes up. For someone who is so supportive of our culture, he has even less patience with this stuff than I do."
I could see she was getting distressed, so I shifted gears. "Aside from the scary elements here, the legends are intriguing. I'd love to learn more. It'll help me get to know Wendell, too, and maybe understand him better."
Ellen nodded her head. "We have some books at the community center with more information. There are some great stories," she said. "Not all of them are gruesome vampire and werewolf stuff."
"Oh, now there are werewolves too?"
She laughed. "This is the last I'm going to say about this! Remember I said the Quileutes are descended from wolves?"
"Yes, but...werewolves?"
"The legends also say our tribesmen turn into wolves to protect our people when they need to. The presence of the cold ones triggers that. Young men become wolves because they are a natural predator of vampires." She sighed. "I can't believe what I sound like."
"Oh, it's all so interesting," I assured her. "A little unorthodox, but hey, it's still very colorful." I tried to sound offhand so she wouldn't think I was taking it all too seriously.
My insides felt like stone. This all gave me a very uneasy feeling for no rational reason whatsoever. Something about it rang true, and it wasn't simply because Edward's skin was like ice. Dr. Cullen's was also unnaturally chilly, as I'd realized when he examined my scalp. It just hadn't registered at the time. Since I'd first seen Edward, my intuition told me something lay at the heart of his different appearance. Did it have anything to do with what Ellen had just revealed?
Was I seriously contemplating the fact that Edward Cullen could be a vampire?
This was insane. Maybe the rain was getting to me more than I thought.
Ellen walked back into the living room and I forced a smile, even though I was still distracted. "Hey, tell me more about the wedding! How are the plans coming along?" I said, mustering a lightheartedness that I didn't feel.
Her face lit up. "Oh, it's going so well. Everything is right on schedule," she enthused. We began discussing her gown, the bridesmaids' gowns, table decorations, the menu, and all the minutiae that brides-to-be get lost in. I supplied the appropriate amount of supportive comments even as the rest of my mind tried to interpret the information Ellen had given me.
Around 9:30, we agreed that if I hadn't shown any signs of a concussion or any other serious symptoms, it was probably okay for Ellen to go home. She gave me her phone number and instructed me to call her or Rick if I felt "at all strange."
I did feel strange, but not physically. My knee hardly bothered me at all, and I didn't have a headache or an indication of another injury. I was stunned to my core, and I couldn't shake the feeling that what she'd told me about the Quileute legends was significant, and true.
I sent Ellen off with assurances that I'd be fine, and that I'd see her tomorrow night at the reservation's community center. I had every intention of keeping my appointment with Wendell, especially now that I'd learned of the reading material available there.
She leaned over me and quickly kissed the top of my head. "Take it easy. Remember, call if you need us," she said. I heard her soft steps down the stairs, and then the close of the outside door as she left.
The problem with being alone is that it gives me so much more opportunity to think. Reigning in my overactive imagination was very difficult right now. Easing myself up carefully, I walked over to the dining room table, where I'd left my laptop. I favored my right leg to avoid aggravating the soreness, and limped back to the couch with the computer.
I felt ridiculous even searching for "vampires." The Web sites I came across did nothing to convince me of anything, either way. There wasn't exactly any scholarly research out there on this topic – none that I could find. Many of the sites were "how-to's," repulsively enough. I found a few that weren't, and there were listings for the different type of vampires from around the world. A careful read showed several common themes: vampirism was often sexual in nature; in many cultures, women were the vampires; children were often the victims, as women who died in childbirth returned for vengeance.
Certain other aspects caught my eye: cold skin, speed, incredible strength, and in one European legend, the ability to kill with a look. I shuddered, thinking of that first day I'd seen Edward.
A few sites listed less lethal types of vampires – those that fed on animals or otherwise had the ability to exist peacefully with humans, without harming them. I was horrified to find myself comforted by these statements.
I slammed the laptop shut and moved off the couch to get ready for bed. Exhaustion had finally set in. I hoped that tomorrow, I'd be more sensible about all this. How could I take the Quileute folklore as truth?
But I knew for sure that I'd be looking closely at the history books Ellen had mentioned.
I slept late on Thursday thanks to a double-dose of Advil. My knee was slightly swollen but not really throbbing any more, so I planned to take it easy during the day and drive to La Push in the evening. I really did want to meet Wendell, and I absolutely didn't want to cancel our first session. It would set a bad tone for our teacher-student relationship, and he needed to trust my commitment.
If not for my knee, I would have thought the entire previous day was a dream. My near death, my rescue by Edward, the otherworldly tribal legends -- it was all surreal. But I knew what I saw. And I knew enough about the laws of physics to recognize there was no rational reason that Edward and I were still alive. So would it make sense that the only logical explanation came by way of irrational stories from ancient Indian culture? Throughout my professional training, I was always told to look at the science of any problem for justification and conclusion. That was little help here. I certainly wasn't trained in the supernatural. I've never completely disbelieved it, because I know that even if something cannot be proved or disproved, it can still exist. We know the universe is incomprehensibly enormous, even limitless, though no one has yet been able to prove its size and all of its contents.
Had I witnessed evidence of a supernatural world today? The thought made me feel a great deal uneasier than if I'd discovered something more mundane -- say, a new comet or galaxy. No one I'd ever heard of was endangered by their scientific discoveries about the universe – at least, no one from the last century. I knew I was never supposed to see what happened today. If there was a simple way to clarify everything, Edward would have told me. Instead, he lied to cover it up and even tried to convince me I was wrong. Undoubtedly, he was protecting himself and whatever secrets lay at the heart of it all.
I had no idea what that meant for me.
I'd noticed when I woke that my car had been brought home. I never heard it pull into the driveway. He didn't stop in to see how I was doing...but perhaps, if he dropped the car off last night, he saw that Ellen was over and didn't want to intrude. Considering the nature of my conversation with her, that would have been awkward.
When evening arrived, I left for my first tutoring session. I spied Jacob's familiar face as he lounged on the steps with a few other young men who appeared to be his age. He recognized the car and grinned hugely, but it faded when he saw me get out and limp. Jacob rushed over and said, "Hey Bella! What happened?"
I laughed to try and set him at ease. "I almost got hit by a car. Did a pretty good faceplant instead. Well, kneeplant is more like it," I amended.
"Should you be walking?" He moved as if to assist me somehow.
"No, no, really, I'm fine. I just have to take it slow."
I noticed that he looked drawn and tired, and there were large dark circles under his eyes. "Are you alright? You look pretty worn out," I commented.
Jacob dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. "Nah, I'm okay."
He ran ahead to open the door for me. The three other boys on the stairs stood self-consciously, unsure if they should help. I smiled at them and said hello.
"Bella, this is Seth, Embry and Paul. Guys, this is Bella." They grinned and nodded.
"Bella the Awkward," I said ruefully. "Thanks, Jacob."
He followed me to the meeting room where the tutoring took place. "Can you make it from here?"
I sighed. "Yup. Thanks. Sorry, I don't mean to sound impatient. It wears on me, having everyone worry about me."
Jacob laughed. "Yeah, why am I not surprised? Hey, I've gotta head home now, but if you need anything, let me know."
"Okay." I smiled. As he walked away, I called after him, "Jacob?"
"Yeah?"
"Get some sleep."
He stopped for a second and summoned a grin. "Okay, mom."
Ellen had already spotted me and walked over. "Hey, how are you? How's the knee?"
"It's coming along. Really, it doesn't hurt at all – only if I stand for a long time. Since I knew I'd be sitting here, and I'm able to drive, I figured I'd come. I really didn't want to miss it," I explained.
"I appreciate your dedication. But if it gets too to be much, be sure to leave," she said.
I gave her a salute. "As you wish. Now, where's my student?"
She led me to a table where Wendell was already sitting. He stood up to shake my hand; he was only about five inches taller than I. What he lacked in height, though, he made up in bulk. His arms and chest were enormous, thickly muscled and surely strong. He was very polite but also very nervous.
I sat down and we started to talk about our backgrounds. I asked him about his job, and he confirmed that the cemetery I'd seen on my bike ride was indeed the location of his work. He and his wife had three children, who were close to being teenagers. Wendell's face shone with pride when he talked about his family. His eyes, deeply set in his face, almost disappeared behind his cheeks as he grinned.
We discussed his reading level, which was at about first grade. He recognized letters and some basic words but had trouble with anything more complicated. As we talked, he explained that his work had also motivated him to improve his skills.
"How did that inspire you?" I asked.
He told me that part of his job was bringing the deceased, in their caskets, to their grave sites. "I get a slip of paper with the person's name on it, and I have to bring it to wherever their headstone is. I can't read. I have to match up each letter on the paper with the letters on the headstone," he said, looking ashamed.
I caught my breath. Imagine having a loved one buried in the wrong place because someone couldn't read? I praised his initiative.
"That's good! Sometimes, a realization like that gets us moving. You made a smart choice to come here," I said encouragingly. He beamed and ducked his head, his cropped hair waving with the motion.
We got to know each other a little that evening. I liked him already; he seemed almost businesslike in his determination to learn, and that was always key to success. We started to look over the books he would use, and I explained how each week would comprise one lesson, and that he'd have homework.
The tightly-braided leather bracelet on his wrist dangled as we shook hands again before parting ways. I watched his wide, jeans-clad form while he walked away, pleased to notice that he carried his books like they already meant something to him.
My knee wasn't throbbing any more, but I still favored my right leg a little as I went looking for Ellen. "How'd it go?" she asked hopefully.
"I think it went well. I really like him," I enthused. "I hope he sticks with it. It seems like he'll do beautifully if he does."
"I hope so too," she sighed. "It took a lot for him to admit he needed help. That kind of failing isn't easy to acknowledge for a man like him. But he's very intelligent. I think you'll really bring it out of him," she added appreciatively.
"Thanks," I said, grinning. "Hey, I'd still like to borrow a few books. Can you show me where they are?"
Ellen led me to several sets of shelves that were stocked with different hardcover volumes and paperbacks. There was a mix of fiction, science, history, government, and, closest to the wall, a small number of volumes on American Indian culture.
"Here you go. Have at it. You can borrow whatever you want. I have to get back to my table; I've got lesson plans to finish," she said.
After thanking her, I browsed what was available. A couple of the books were so dense, they must have been someone's doctoral dissertation. I was looking for something that would be a slightly quicker read because I was too impatient to wade through a lot of footnotes and citations. Finally, I found two volumes: "A History of the Quileute People" and "Traditions and Folklore of the Pacific Northwest Indians." They would do for now.
Turning, I waved goodbye to Ellen and headed out the door, limping a little less than when I'd arrived.