Chapter 7: Flowers and Candy

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight.

As soon as Bella opened her front door, the scent of roses permeated the air with their sweet fragrance. She walked into the kitchen and there was Charlie leaning against the table and sporting a huge grin. He turned his body sideways and with a flourish of his hand, revealed a vase of a dozen beautiful red roses. Sitting beside the bouquet, she spied a box of her favorite brand of assorted chocolates, and an envelope addressed to her.

"Dad," she began.

"Don't look at me. Read the card that came with them."

Pulling the tiny sentiment from its holder, she read:

Love bites,

Love bleeds,

Love can also heal your heart.

I love you Bella,

Your Jacob

She knew Jacob was not a poet in the least, but these simple lines made her heart swell with tenderness. But then her more practical side bullied its way out of the back of her mind.

"He shouldn't have," she gasped. "He doesn't have money to waste like this."

"Now don't you go spoiling it for Jacob. Nothing a guy hates worse than a woman complaining when he does something nice for her! Just be grateful. And open up those chocolates. Your old man's been waiting for you to come home, so I could have one. You are going to share with me, aren't you?"

"Yes, but not 'til after we've eaten supper. You'll ruin your appetite. I haven't started cooking yet."

"Too late—I already had my dinner. I figured you'd be late coming back from the Cullens', so I brought home some food from Long Wong's. It's in the fridge. Can I open that box now?"

Charlie ripped off the covering on the chocolates and dug right in.

She hardly got the next sentence out before he had a piece in his mouth. "Be my guest. Wait—save me some of the caramels. Last time you ate nearly all of them."

"Okay, kiddo," he stammered, the gooey caramel sticking to his teeth. "One more, that's all, the rest of it is yours."

Bella was too busy removing Jacob's letter from the envelope to even care that her dad was already chewing on the next chocolate morsel. She excitedly unfolded the paper:

Dear Bella,

Just then the phone rang. She quickly picked up the receiver and breathlessly uttered, "Jacob?"

She was rewarded with a loud sigh and then dead silence at the other end. "Oh, it's you," she mumbled.

"Please, I need to talk to you." Edward sounded desperate. She almost found herself feeling sorry for him.

Her eyes rolled up so that she was staring at the ceiling. What additional piece of wisdom could he possibly impart to her? "I think I already heard all the talk I want to. There's nothing more I need to talk to you about. You made it perfectly clear that you think I'm incapable of making sound decisions. You also apparently feel that I can be sweet talked into giving it up without thinking about the consequences. Well let me tell you something, Mr. Cullen. If I wind up living in a hovel with sixteen children, that'll be none of your business. It'll be my life, and my choice. And believe me; I'd rather drop dead than go traipsing back to you for your almighty forgiveness. You're not my confessor, Edward. I don't need your blessing or your forgiveness.

"Bella, you need to listen to me," he entreated.

"No . . . no . . . I don't. Good bye, Edward. I hope you find someone who can be persuaded a little easier than I can—someone who doesn't have a mind of her own."

"You mustn't say goodbye yet—I haven't finished." Oh yes, you have, she thought. "Bella . . . wait—"

Click. She put the receiver back on its cradle, shutting off his last attempt to schmooz her into coming back to him.

"Jerk," she muttered. What did I ever see in that . . . jerk! Jake can be a jerk sometimes too, but at least he's a lovable jerk. He doesn't try to make my decisions for me either. He lets me make my own mistakes. And right now, the only mistake I can think about is my mistake in deciding to be with Edward for the rest of eternity. Sure, he can give me material things—but is that all there is to a happy life? I don't think so!

Bella started ascending the stairs, clutching Jacob's letter in her hand. Charlie looked at her, and asked, "Where are you going, young lady? Aren't you going to eat something?"

"Later—first I want to read this." She waved the folded paper in the air. "I'm taking it up to my room."

"Oh, I get it," he huffed, "Private affairs of the heart, huh? He's not even here in person, and I'm cramping his style."

Rolling her eyes, Bella chided, "Daaaad . . ."

"Hey, I can take a hint. I was young and in love once too, you know."

She went to her room, turned on the light, and climbed onto her purple bedspread. Sitting on the bed with her legs crossed under her, she smoothed out the creases on the paper and began to read it again—this time without interruption.

Dear Bella,

I hope you are reading this letter, because I just had to tell you how sorry I am for talking to Charlie and upsetting you like I did. You have to know why I did it. I wanted to protect you from myself. I want you so badly, that it scares me; it makes me do crazy things. I can't hold back this feeling any more. I was so afraid to let it show, but now it's just gotten so much stronger. It's busting to get out.

That bikini nearly did me in, and I'm not kidding. I know I act like a jerk sometimes, but I'm a jerk that's in love with you. Are you reading this? I love you Bells, but I never want to hurt you, or persuade you to do something that you're not ready for. You can understand that, right?

When you walked out that door last night, I thought, "Is this the last time I'll ever get to see her?" That thought just about tore me up. If you do leave me, sure, I'll still exist, but I'll never truly be alive again. Adam was so right; it was better to live outside the Garden with her than inside without her.

Jeez, Bells, please say you'll forgive me. I can't eat; I can't sleep. All I can think about is what I need to do to make everything all right between us again.

It's obvious that I can't give you all the things that Edward can, but if you have love in your life you can make up for what you don't have. And if you don't have that love, no matter how much money or things you have, it'll never be enough—not ever.

I already said it, but I'll say it again. I love you, Bells, and I always will.

Till my heart stops beating,

Love,

Your Jacob

The tears were welling up in her eyes as she read the heartfelt words on the page. She had to stop once or twice to wipe the drops away. Bella couldn't see the page through them, and she wanted to see every single expression of his love for her.

My gosh, that letter was so sweet. It was as if his heart was speaking directly to hers. Each of his words leapt from the page and landed softly in the center of her soul, filling it with Jacob's warmth and sunshine.

She reread his letter twice more, letting the words saturate her very being. He hadn't given up on her; he loved her still. And what's more, Bella knew that she felt the same way about Jacob.

Folding the paper back to its original form, she pressed it to her fluttering heart. Oblivious to Charlie's stare, she floated down the steps from her bedroom. She heard him mutter, "That good, huh?" Then he sat down in his lazy boy and fiddled with the remote.

While the mu shu pork and fried rice were heating up, she sat at the table gazing at the roses and wondering when he would call her. When she had finished eating, she went upstairs to shower, but was getting a bit impatient. There was no call from Jacob yet.

It was getting late and still she hadn't heard from him. Maybe she should make the first move.

Charlie got up from the couch, stretched, yawned and said, "Goodnight, Bells. I'm heading up to my bedroom. See you tomorrow, kiddo."

She waited till she could hear the door to his room shut. She snuck out the front of the house, with keys in hand in a déjà vu of last night. This time however, she wasn't burning with flames of anger; instead she was drowning in a wave of love. Heck, there was not a single lifeboat in sight, and what's more, she didn't even care!

There was a knock at Leah's door, and a young man standing there with a long-stemmed yellow rose and a small box of candy. Leah stared at the guy with a blank expression. "I think you have the wrong house." Was he kidding? No one—and I mean no one ever sent Leah flowers and candy. It never happened even when she was dating Sam, huh?

"Are you Leah Clearwater?" He looked puzzled.

"Well, yeah."

"Then these are yours." He handed the goods over to her, then cocking an eyebrow, placed his palm out expecting a tip.

Leah noted his outstretched palm. "Did you want a tip? Here's one for ya'. Get lost, I'm broke."

The young man laughed and winked at her. "You're cute—and feisty. I like that in a girl. I'd love to take you out some time. Here's my card. Give me a call."

For once, Leah didn't have a comeback. And he was rather cute himself, cocky, but cute. Those hazel eyes, dark hair, and confident grin confirmed that. She smiled and slipped his card into her pocket.

She returned to the living room and checked the note that came with the flower. It was attached to the rose with a white ribbon. Taking the card out of its holder, she read the short note:

Dear Leah,

I took your advice.

Thanks for your help.

Your pack brother,

Jake

Well, whaddya know, finally some respect. That was very thoughtful. Bella was a lucky girl. Good quality candy, too. Leah reached into her pocket and read the other card. And Leah smiled for the second time that day.

The clock on the wall was fast approaching ten o'clock. I was on pins and needles waiting for her call. Dragging my hand through my hair, I continued wearing a path in the floor with my constant pacing. I couldn't relax until I heard her voice again. Did she read my letter? Did she think it was too corny? Maybe I shouldn't have put that bit in there about Adam and Eve. God, I just wished that she would call already! I was ready to lose my mind.

Billy put his hand out and stopped me as I walked by the couch for the umpteenth time. "Son, will you stop pacing back and forth. You're making me nervous. I'm trying to watch the news."

"Sorry, I'm just a little anxious. She should have called by now. Do you think she read my letter? I hope she liked the roses. Don't all women like roses?"

Slapping his cheek in feigned annoyance, Billy jerked his thumb in the direction of their phone. "Pick it up and talk to her. That's why the good lord gave you a tongue. That's my fatherly advice for tonight. Now, take it to your room so I can watch the news in peace."

"But Leah said not to talk to her, to let her come to me. I don't want to appear . . . you know . . . desperate."

Billy's mouth dropped open. "Well, aren't you?"

"Well—yeah—but does she really need to know that?" I nodded my head, like the idiot I was.

He jerked his thumb for the second time. Taking the cell to my room, I teetered back and forth . . . should I call her . . . or should I wait a little longer? How long should I wait? I wasn't sure—but one thing was for sure—I would be a stark raving lunatic by morning if something didn't break tonight.

It was ten thirty. Billy turned off the TV and I helped him get in bed. He grabbed my arm as I turned to go, "Don't worry, Jacob, you've got that Black charisma. She'll come around."

I lay down on my bed, still battling in my head whether or not to call. Tossing and turning, I thought about phasing and going for a long run. But what if she called while I was out in the forest? That would suck.

Just when I thought—ahh, the hell with it, I heard the pounding at the front door.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

Adrenaline surged through my body. This was it; answer the door, or jump out the back window?

A/N: What would you do?