Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 8

It was quiet in the truck on the way to the hospital. I had been itching to turn on the radio, but something like that would agitate Paul and I didn't want to do that in front of other people. I checked the boys' cuts every so often making sure that they weren't bleeding all over Paul's backseat. One of them had a piece of glass still in his forearm, and the other had a long cut on his neck. It was just a superficial wound, but I was still nervous that it would get infected. Seth had stayed behind with Van Gogh and they looked like that they would take a liking to each other. And Paul still hadn't answered my question – how had he gotten there so fast, esp. without me calling him? It was two in the morning, why would he be coming to my house or even outside my house? If he was going on a midnight jog, I might have believed it if he wasn't barefoot. Or maybe he knew it was going to happen. He'd told me once that he knew a psychic – maybe he was psychic.. .That or he was stalking me…

The waiting room was empty when we walked in through the sliding glass doors except for the face of the woman behind the safety glass window.

"Hi, how may I help you?" she asked with a sleepy smile.

"Hi, these two fell through a window and have a few lacerations that need to be looked at. He's got a piece of glass near his radial artery, but I don't think it's been nicked. This one's gonna need some glue for his neck, s'gotta six centimeter cut and-"

"Glue? I thought you said I would need stitches!" the boy looked at us, confused.

"Okay, just fill out the names and social security numbers," she slid the forms to us.

"Uhhh um," the two boys shared a look. "What if we don't know our social security numbers?"

"Alright just come on through, you a doctor?" the nurse asked me, buzzing us in.

"Nurse," I shook my head.

…

We left the hospital with two very drugged up teenage boys and a job offer. I ended up talking to an older nurse for ten minutes, and later I found out she was the head nurse looking into retirement. She actually offered me a job. I told her that I would have to think about it but to expect my call in a couple of days. Getting a job in Forks was on my list of possibilities, but I'd thought about seeing if there was an office or something I could work in. But I had a real job offer which means my new life is coming together nicely – just a normal happy life…

Paul had been a … surprise. He'd told me not worry about the window and would have it replaced tomorrow – or later today – and called the boys' parents. He promised them that he'd bring them home and also told them not to worry about the medical bills or the glass. But apparently he'd made some kind of deal about working with the boys so they could pay off the damages. I was going to object, but he'd given me one of those 'don't-say-a-word' looks, so I'd kept my mouth shut.

When he drove me home, he walked me in to look at all of the damage. The glass had been swept up, Seth was snoozing on the couch, and Van Gogh was sitting next to him, watching us.

"Off the couch, Van Gogh," I snapped my fingers as he climbed off. I let him sleep on the bed because I could wash the sheets, I didn't want to attempt to wash a couch. Paul chuckled and I sent him a glare.

"I didn't say a word," he held up a hand. "… Why'd you name him Van Gogh?"

"I don't know… he just liked it," I shrugged.

"Oh, I thought it was because of the painting," he nodded to the small print that I'd hung on the wall. "And for your mom."

"How'd you-"

"Billy likes to talk when he's had a few beers… and you should know that you staying in La Push really does mean a lot to him."

"Thanks," I nodded trying to suppress the awful clenching feeling in my throat.

"Seth!" he'd bent down to yell in his ear. "Come on, let's go!"

"What – patrol duty already? Can't Brady or – Oh! Hi Rachel…" Seth sat up, more awake.

"Hi, thanks for cleaning up and staying with Van Gogh."

"No problem, he was watching me."

After they left, Van Gogh and I went back to bed and I held an eye roll as he jumped on the bed resting his head on a pillow.

"Thank you Van Gogh," I kissed the top of his nose. I'd closed my eyes and was reveling in the warm sheets when I felt a wet lick on my nose.

…

Carol45: so what does this Paul look like?

You: why?

Carol45: He's a builder, he works out a lot, you sound like you hate him too much – and I'm just hoping he IS hot.

You: why are you hoping he is? may i remind you Carol, youre a married woman…

Carol45: Not for me – for YOU!

You: no

Carol45: I know you're still getting over Doug and you should be- you were together for 15 years but Paul likes you a lot.

You: how would you know Miss World Traveler?

Carol45: just scroll up to about two hours ago and read everything again.

Carol45: And you liiiike him

You: I do not!

You: we're not even really friends. He's so frustrating sometimes

Carol45: The sex would be so hot.

You: I'm leaving. Goodbye

Carol45: love ya ttyl

Carol did not know what she was talking about.

Carol and I met in a chat room for troubled women. We were offering support and advice to women who were or had been in bad relationships. I'd volunteered at a women's shelter in college, so I had a lot of experience with different women and their abusive relationships. Carol unfortunately had the other kind of experience and had been raped when she was seventeen. But we connected and started having private chats and now she was my best friend. I talked to her almost daily about anything and everything.

I'm not sure of age though, but she's definitely… older. When I'd asked about her screen name, she'd said '45 was a good year… so Carol was about 85 years old in my mind and now she was travelling around the world with her husband Thomas. They used to live in Alaska and used to do something with oil… but they were retired and well off now.

"All done," Paul called from the back porch. He'd just finished putting in a new window, and he'd asked me if I needed something done that Sidney and Frederick could do as payment for the broken window. I said no, but I knew he definitely had something in mind for them.

But I needed to get Paul something or do something nice for all the work he's done for me – which he didn't have to do. Flowers? Chocolate? Wine? Dinner? Dinner was good, but I didn't want to insinuate anything because I did not want him or anyone to think it was a date. Paul didn't like me and I did not like him like that in that way. Cheese balls, I felt like I was in sixth grade again.

I could invite everyone over… Dad hadn't seen the place yet….

"Would you like to have dinner tonight with me, Paul?"

"What?" he stumbled backward, whipping his head at me as if I had just startled him.

"Yeah like a dinner with everyone. Dad hasn't been here yet to see it."

"Oh yeah, sounds good," he nodded, sighing.

"Good, is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Uh no, no, whatever is fine. I haven't – Oh! Oooh no, I can't come."

"Oh…" Why was I so disappointed?

"We have a council meeting tonight so… actually none of us can come tonight."

"Oh, I can still cook you guys' dinner and just listen in. No big deal… what?" I stopped as he winced.

"It's a meeting with just the elders…"

"How come you and Seth are going then?"

"Because we have something that we need to talk about… It's… private."

"Okay, fine. Whatever."

"Don't be mad, Rachel. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"No it's okay," I closed my laptop and stood up to leave.

"Rachel…" he whined.

"I'm not mad!" I insisted.

"Tomorrow? I would really like to have dinner with you tomorrow."

"Okay, tomorrow."

AN: just so you know, Van Gogh is just a regular wolf - he's not a werewolf or part of the pack - but he is part of the plot which is why he was included in the story... you'll see :)

Thanks for Reading!