Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!
I updated the blog with Bella's outfit for this chapter. You can find the url on my profile.
11.
The first step.
"Do you need anything else, Doctor Masen?" Through his concentration he recognized Nurse Beckett's voice as she hovered near the edge of the curtained off little room.
Edward shook his head, his concentration fixed on his patient as he worked. "I'm fine for now. I'll let you know when I'm done here."
He smiled, trying to reassure his patient as he heard the nurses' footsteps fade. "We should be done in a few moments."
"Right, doc," the patient, a forty-something man with a hard edge and muscles that betrayed a hard-won living, chuckled nervously, rubbing his clammy forehead with his good hand. "Let's just get this over with."
"You could have spared yourself the trip to the ER if you had this looked after when it happened," Edward admonished him, like it was his duty as a doctor to do. "It looks like an old wound."
"Yeah," the man nodded, "but we're already behind on our orders as it is and with our team down a man or two, we ain't got time to rush to the hospital every time someone scrapes his arm."
"It looks like you did a bit more than that." Edward chuckled disapprovingly as he set to work, draining the infected tissue and cutting away some of the most affected skin to reach what looked like one hell of a splinter. "Besides, you'll be out of the running for a lot longer now than you would have been if you'd have gotten it cleaned and stitched up right away."
The man nodded, though Edward was almost convinced the guy be working his normal shift the next day no matter how sternly his doctor had spoken to him. He had seen it dozens of times in similar cases, whether in Chicago or in Forks: as long as you could work, you tried.
"Nurse Beckett will be back in a few to finish up and take you through the wound care regimen," he went on, sitting up as he discarded his instruments and gloves back into their tray next to the bed. "Make sure the wound stays clean, dry and try to keep it from opening again."
The patient chuckled as his doctor shot him a stern, knowing look. "I'll try, doc, but I can't promise ya anything."
"And if it starts looking red or swollen again, I want you back in here stat, before it will become gangrenous or I will have to cut away your whole finger. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
"Nope." His patient shook his hand, still grinning from ear to ear like he'd just achieved a major victory. "I reckon it would be a lot harder to haul logs with just the one hand."
"I reckon you may be right about that," Edward chuckled, shaking the patient's good hand before ducking through the curtain, almost bumping into his sister in the process.
"Es? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Picking up some things for Jasper." She shrugged, though Edward could see the pain from a few nights ago was still fresh. "And dropping of Carlisle's lunch which he forgot…again."
He sighed, remembering how he'd fallen asleep that night on the sofa, his sister's worn out body slumping against his as he continued to hold her even though she was all cried out. He still had the kinks in his back to remind him of it. "Did you talk to him?"
"Tonight," Esme grimaced, obviously not looking forward to it. "Carlisle got Rosalie to look after her brother for the night so he could take me out to dinner." Her smile wasn't the one a wife should be sporting at the prospect of going out on a date with her husband but Edward understood. Romantic as the setting was probably going to be, their conversation would be anything but. They had some important matters to discuss and, after everything he'd seen and heard, Edward had the feeling his sister wasn't going to back down easily. She'd had enough of the kids running rampant. Something had to give.
Esme chuckled, misinterpreting her brothers' silence. "Don't worry, we won't cramp your style."
"How the hell do you know?" Edward scratched the back of his head. How the hell did she know he and Rachel had decided to move their date back to that night? He only knew since that morning and he hadn't exactly been shouting it from the rooftops. "And Rosalie? I think I'd rather have Jack the Ripper for a nursemaid than entrust myself to her."
"Rosalie may have her defects but she loves her brother dearly and, with her being grounded, it's not like she has much else to do with her evenings." Esme laughed at the face her brother made when she mentioned the name of her stepdaughter in the same sentence as the word 'love'. "Oh and if you don't want me to find out about your little work dalliances, then don't doodle your plans all over my office notebook."
"Aw, crap!" he groaned, his cheeks blushing a vibrant red as he slapped himself on the forehead.
"Don't worry, Ned," Esme giggled, delighted at seeing her usually so restrained brother so put out. "I won't blow the whistle on you. I do want to meet the girl, though. Is she here?"
"She's off today," Edward muttered, praising providence for the fact that Rachel had had the graveyard shift that night and was now safe in bed, away from his sister's prying eyes.
"Pity," Esme smirked. "Well, there will be other times, I guess." She shrugged, though the lights were still sparkling in her eyes. "I'd better get home. I believe the police wanted to have another chat with Jasper sometime this afternoon."
Edward nodded, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hang in there, sis."
She winked, shrugging off his hand as she turned to walk away. "Isn't that what I always do?"
She was right. There was no other way about it. As Edward watched her walk out of the hospital, he was reminded of the many times in her life she'd had to 'hang in there': when their father tried to pimp her out to his business associates, when she broke away from the family chokehold and left with nothing but the clothes on her back, when she traveled the globe for almost ten years, working odd jobs to get her from city to city or when she fell in love with a man who was still legally married and got saddled with his two kids when the (then) ex-wife decided to pick her career over motherhood. She'd always made it work, whereas he…
Edward sighed, trudging back to the admittance desk to claim his next chart. The only thing he'd ever done was mope when he should have been thanking his lucky stars for all the chances he'd gotten in life. Well, at least it's not too late to make a difference.
And he tried, at least, as far as the sick and wounded of Forks would let him. It was a boring day, though. With all of the patients brought in after the incident in the woods already back at home, the hospital had gone back to its usual quiet, and at times almost deserted state, leaving him with plenty of time to catch up on his paperwork but with virtually no challenge to his abilities. Which was probably why they'd sent him there in the first place.
It wasn't until much later in the afternoon that finally something caught his interest; the name at the top of a brand new chart jumping out and catching his eye as soon as he'd picked it up. "Isabella Harrison?"
The nurse behind the desk nodded, making Edward realize he'd spoken out loud. "She came in just now, presenting with a headache and dizziness after a kitchen accident."
He nodded, reading over the symptoms on the chart. "Well, I'd better take a look then."
He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he entered the little curtained chamber, needing all his wits about him before he faced her, though he wasn't completely sure why. Was it because he expected her to launch another attack on him? Or was it because he wanted to steel himself against the effect she always seemed to have on him; the one that left him wanting her even though he knew it was wrong?
"Miss Harrison?" He finally pushed back his feelings, going into professional mode as he entered the little private area.
Isabella looked up at the mention of her name, her eyes a bit fuzzy and her skin even paler than usual. "Doctor Masen? We meet again, it seems."
He nodded, distracting himself from the almost magnetic-like attraction she held to him by keeping his eyes trained to the chart. "You've got a headache?"
"Is that what they wrote on the chart?" Isabella frowned, the look of displeasure on her face becoming and almost familiar feature as Edward finally drew his eyes away from the chart. "The truth is a little more complicated, I'm afraid."
"Then please enlighten me," Edward shrugged, putting the chart in the little rack on the edge of the bed as he tried to assume a professional stance; something made extremely difficult by the close quarters in which he found himself with the woman who, no matter how hard he tried to resist, always made him feel where he had been nothing but an empty vessel before. Strange though that sounded, even to him.
"I was preparing lunch, as usual," she started, a slight blush tainting her cheeks, "when a stack of salad bowls fell from the top cupboard. It's stupid, really…" She smiled bitterly, rubbing the side of her head as she absentmindedly shook it. "I've used that cupboard so many times and I know I should always use the stepstool, but I guess I had to be stubborn, didn't I?"
And there was that tone again; the natural, singsong-like cadence to her voice as it became devoid of all its artificial politeness. "I tried to reach the damn bowl with the tips of my fingers and the whole stack fell down…right on top of my head. It probably would have looked damn funny if it wouldn't have hurt so much."
"How many bowls were in the stack?" Edward asked, his medical training finally kicking in.
"Four at least," she answered, "and I guess I should mention that they were made of stainless steel."
"Yep, that definitely is something I want to know," Edward nodded, producing the little flashlight from his white coat as he started to examine his patient, his mind now in full doctor-mode. "It looks like you've got a mild concussion."
"Shit," she cussed, the corners of her lips pulling into a grimace. "Aro isn't going to like this. He can't stand disruptions to his schedule."
"Is he here?" Edward asked, scribbling his finding onto the chart.
"No," Isabella frowned as if the question was so foreign to her it deserved a more detailed explanation. "He's resting. Why should he be?"
Edward's eyes nearly budged out of his head as an awful suspicion started to sneak up on him. "Then how did you get here?" He didn't like the thought James Harrison behind the wheel but at least his dependency upon her would make sure he took every proper precaution.
She merely shrugged. "I drove."
She drove. She had a mild concussion and an awfully big bump on her head and yet she braved hairpin curves and a fucking rainforest to get to the ER. Alone.
Immediately a strong sense of protection kicked in, his mouth moved even before he had time to check it. "You're not driving back."
She arched a brow, a snide smile playing around the edge of her lips as she looked at him. "I'm not? Then how in hell am I supposed to get back? Fly on my broomstick?"
"Now that would be in idea!" he joked before turning serious again. "Seriously, you're in no condition to drive right now. I'm off in fifteen minutes, which would be about the time it would take one of the nurses to get you discharged. I'll take you back. We'll see about getting your car back when I come to check on Mister Harrison tomorrow."
Somehow she sensed that the topic was beyond discussion, though that didn't stop her from lacing her voice with a syrupy strong sarcasm as she spoke. "I'm much obliged, Doctor Masen."
He huffed, dunking the chart back into the tray as he pushed the curtain open. "I'm only doing my job."
It wasn't until he was on the other side of the curtain that he managed to draw in a deep breath again, his lungs singing with happiness after having been constricted for too long. What the hell was going on?
Edward didn't have long to look for an answer because the next fifteen minutes found him wrapping up his shift and bringing the car towards the exit, Isabella daintily arranging herself on the passenger seat as he drove off, the close proximity of her to him as she sat in the passenger seat having the same effect as it had back at the hospital.
The silence between them was as stifling as it had been a few days ago when she drove him back after brunch, only this time something was significantly different about the two of them as they sat fidgeting nervously in their seats. The hostility was gone; the venomous undertone that had always been there in their dealings with each other now replaced by something else, something Edward couldn't really put his finger on.
It was as if in that little curtained area a bridge had been crossed and they had come to some sort of understanding, though the 'how' was as inexplicable as the nature of that understanding. There was just…something between them that had never been there before.
"Are you sure you're going to be alright being back at home?" Edward asked, his hands hovering idly on the steering wheel as they waited in front of the traffic light. "You should really take it easy for a day or two and…and I guess that can't be easy with Aro-"
"I'll be fine," she interrupted him, the sharpness in her voice letting him know he was venturing into dangerous territory. "Aro is not that far gone that he can't allow for some consideration when I'm sick."
Edward nodded, though he had a hard time believing her. The nature of his patient's disease simply contradicted her words. After all, paranoia and extreme disorientation left little room for empathy.
"He didn't do it, if that's what you're thinking," she went on, her tone accusing as she cautiously rubbed the bump on top of her head. "It happened just as I said. It was an accident."
The way she stressed the word made him wonder of the opposite was maybe true, though he hadn't even considered that James might have been the cause of Isabella's troubles before. Come to think of it, though, he had read about how the disease affected the patients' mind, making them hallucinate and lapse into fits of paranoia that could often make them violent.
He hated the thought of Isabella being the victim of any of that; her frail, porcelain skin too perfect to be marred by a madman's attack. The thought alone made his hands clench around the wheel as an almost violent tension set in his shoulders. There was nothing he could do, though, except for what he was already trying. No matter how much he wished there was.
"I want to thank you." Her voice was so low it was almost inaudible over the muted rumble of the car engine but, nevertheless, the shock of hearing it made him jump a little. "For taking me home? You didn't have to do this."
Edward chuckled nervously, not really knowing how to handle her being nice to him. "Contrary to what you may think, I'm not that bad of a guy once you get to know me."
She shrugged. "Well maybe that's just the thing?"
Edward brows scrunched as he fought to keep his eyes on the road instead of on the strange, enigmatic girl sitting next to him. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged again as she plucked at the sleeve of her cardigan. "I'm not a complete bitch either, once you get to know me, but maybe that's just it. Maybe we're not supposed to get to know each other. And maybe that's for the best."
"What are you saying?" Edward's brow furrowed even deeper as he silently contemplated driving her back to the hospital. She must have hit her head a lot harder than he thought.
She smiled sadly, her shoulders losing their tension as the front of the house came into view. She waited until the car was nearly stationary before she turned towards him, her eyes radiating a kind of honesty and sincerity Edward found hard to place. "I'm saying that you could really screw up my life in ways you can't even imagine."
And then she was gone, leaving Edward in that familiar state of baffled 'what-the-fuck-ness' that always seemed to go hand in hand with meeting her as he watched the door fall back into its lock behind her.
A glance at the dashboard clock, however, told him that, again, he didn't have long to take stock of his confused emotions, the hour of his date with Rachel drawing closer and closer with him still halfway between the known world and the wilderness. He felt weird, going out with Rachel right after spending time with Isabella. It felt almost like cheating, even though he was fairly sure Isabella Harrison would rather French kiss a hedgehog than think of him romantically.
He drove back quickly, the deserted roads allowing him to stretch the car's capabilities as far as they went as he navigated the bendy mountain way, his mind warped between the girl he'd just felt behind and the woman his thoughts were supposed to linger on; the one he was about to pick up for a date.
Try as he might, though, he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting back to Isabella and that aura of mystery that clung to her very being. His mind mulling over every single thing she'd said until it was spinning with even more questions than he'd had to begin with, his hands white and overstrained from gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as he wound his way back down the mountain.
He arrived back home just in time for a quick change of clothes, his footsteps halting on the first floor landing as he made his way back down from the second floor, the doctor in him needing to know that the boy recovering in one of the rooms off the landing was still doing okay.
Jasper looked up the second he heard the knock on his door, his face still pale and messed up but his eyes eager for a break in the monotony even if he knew he would be paying for it with a splitting headache later on. "Hey." He didn't really know their houseguest – or should he have called him his step-uncle? – all that well but with no one but his sister and stepmom and the occasional representative from the Clallam County Police Force keeping him company for the past few days, he was happy with every distraction he could get.
Besides, from what he'd seen and heard of Edward, the guy wasn't that bad. Horribly 'establishment' of course, but not so much so that it made him completely beyond rescuing or reason. Unlike his little sister.
"How are you feeling?" Edward asked, lingering near the doorway as he peeked in.
"Like shit!" Jasper chuckled, the strain of moving and being alert visible in the tense set of his mouth. "But I guess that's what happens when you think you can take on the establishment."
"Any problems with dizziness or nausea?" Edward barely resisted the urge to look for a flashlight to assess the boy's pupillary response as he tried to decide whether or not it was safe to leave Jasper to the care of his sister that night; his indifferent and medically untrained sister.
"Nope. Just feel like I'm on the back end of a three-day boozefest," Jasper smirked, "but without the high or the possibility of getting laid."
"Well, you only have yourself to blame for that!" Edward chuckled, looking at his watch. He really should get going. "Will you be okay tonight?"
Jasper shrugged. "I'm tucked up in bed with a headache that doesn't even allow me to be awake for more than a few hours on end. I don't think I'll be able to get into much trouble even if I tried."
"True," Edward grinned.
"Besides, I'm pretty sure Dad and Esme will be calling Rosalie about every fifteen minutes or so," Jasper went on, looking like the prospect of his sister being harassed didn't really bother him all that much. If at all. "I doubt even she would dare to just let me croak under those circumstances."
"Well, if there's anything wrong, just holler," Edward replied, taking one of his business cards out of his wallet and putting it on the bedside table. "I don't think I'll be out that late and I'd rather you call me than disrupt your parents' date. They really need to spend some time together."
"I'm hearing ya," Jasper nodded. "Oh, and way to pick up on the local lingo, city boy!"
Edward grinned, bumping fists with the boy before heading out, saying a quick goodbye to his sister as she got ready for her own date before making his way over to the other side of town to pick Rachel up for their night.
She looked great, her little black dress showing off her body in a way that no set of nurses' scrubs or comfy post-work outfit could. "You look amazing!" he grinned, unable to keep himself from appraising her as she walked out towards him.
"Don't sound so surprised," she chuckled, beaming as she walked passed the passenger door he held open for her to slide into her seat.
"I'm not," he backpedaled, "I'm just…"
"Uh huh," she playfully scolded when it seemed to take him awfully long to finish his sentence. "Let's just get to Port Angeles before you dig yourself into an even bigger hole?"
"Yes, please!" he breathed, starting the car and tearing out of the street enthusiastically, eliciting just the kind of response he desired from the girl next to him.
They discussed simple, easy stuff on their way over to the restaurant; mainly things happening at work or in town, just the kind of things that made for easy conversation in that stage of a relationship where the people involved still tried to test the waters. It wasn't until they were seated at the small, cozy restaurant and were halfway through their starters that Rachel took their conversation a bit further.
"Tell me about yourself," Rachel asked, spooning up the remnants of her shrimp cocktail appetizer. "Did you actually have a life you left behind in Chicago or are you just as happy to let the hospital eat all your fun time like the rest of us?"
"I had a life." Edward sighed, knowing that if things went the way he hoped they'd go between them, he had to give her something about himself. Chicks usually wanted to know stuff.
"With the emphasis on had?" Rachel's brow arched as she waited for him to elaborate.
He shrugged. "Ex-wife."
"Sorry." She blushed. "Touchy subject?"
"Nah, not really." He shrugged again. "It's just your average two-doctors-marrying-for-all-the-wrong-reasons case. We're still friends, though."
"A lot of people say that and yet I've never seen anyone actually pull that sort of thing off," Rachel mused, her cheeks darkening as her mind caught up with her mouth. "Not that I'm accusing you of lying or anything."
"It was really weird at first," Edward admitted, "but we're still such a big part of each other's lives that we had to make it work somehow…and she really was my best friend above all else, even when we were married."
"Wow!" Rachel chuckled. "I wish I could say that about some of the losers I've dated over the years."
"So what about you?" Edward was quick to ask, seizing the opportunity to change the subject before he told her too much. That had never been part of the plan. "Have you been living in Forks for all your life?"
She shook her head. "I grew up on the Quileute reservation not far from here but we had to move after some stuff with my dad happened…" Her lips pulled into a tight smile as she wrung her hands in her lap. "Basically my dad fell out with some of the other elders and we either had to move or get used to being cold-shouldered. So we moved here."
"And your dad opened the shop?" He asked, not wanting to pressure Rachel in sharing stuff she obviously wanted to keep private by pressing the matter.
She nodded. "Apart from three years in Seattle for college, I haven't left."
"You went to Seattle for nursing school?"
"No." Again her smile was tense. "Pre-med. I was actually just accepted into medical school at U-Dub when my mom got sick and I had to come back home."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she was quick to rely. "It was a long time ago and she was very sick at the end. It was better that way."
"Why didn't you go through with it? With Med School, I mean," he wondered. "You could have gone back after everything settled down again."
She shrugged, her mouth twitching slightly as she breathed out slowly through her nose. "My brother – Jake…he had a hard time coping with all of it…fell into the wrong crowds and all of that. Besides, with the shop and the rest of the kids being so young, dad needed me here."
"So you became a nurse." Edward nodded, the story taking shape in his head.
"Yep." Her smile was back as she looked at him. "And I've really come to love my job so don't go thinking of me as some sort of charity case."
"I wouldn't dare!" Edward held up his hands in surrender as he laughed, happy to have the conversation back in easier waters. "If being a nurse is where you want to be, then go for it! No one should tell you what you should or shouldn't do with your life." His smile became a little forced as he thought back to the fights he'd had with his father and, on occasion, his mother on just that same subject. It still hurt that neither of his parents had been very supportive of his choice, though both for different reasons, so he could very well imagine how she felt, having to defend her choice every damn time.
"I love my job." The smile on her face told him how much she meant it, her eyes turning inquisitive again as they landed back on him. "So what about you? Have you always wanted to be a doctor?"
"For as long as I can remember, yes," Edward nodded, "much to my dad's disappointment."
Her head cocked to the side as she watched him in confusion. "Why? Most parents I know would be over the moon with a choice like that."
He shrugged. "As the CEO of the family enterprise, he had another profession in mind for me. I was supposed to go into the firm and learn the ropes so that I would be able to take the helm after he decided to step down." Edward was amazed that he could actually get the words out without smirking but, as he dug into his main course, he reckoned that it was just because of the company he was in. Everything seemed to be easier with Rachel around. Because she was easy to be with.
"And you didn't want to take over?" she inquired, tucking into her own meal.
He shook his head. "The thought alone makes me want to hurl. Number crunching and planning takeovers never really appealed to me."
"Good." She smiled, her hand touching his over the table, "because I find that most number crunching, takeover managing guys are arrogant assholes."
He flashed her his boyish grin. "Does that mean I pass the test?"
"You might." She shrugged, averting her face as she threw herself into devouring her food with renewed vigor. There was no need for him to see the effect that lopsided grin of his had on her.
The rest of the night passed much in the same way, the two of them discussing college experiences and freaky past-patients over the remainder of their main course and well into the slice of pecan pie they shared for dessert before the end of dinner found them back in the car to Forks.
It was great. She was great. But still, all throughout the night Edward couldn't stop but think what it might have been like if a different brown-eyed woman had been sitting across from him at the little corner table.
He knew that with her, things would never have been as easy and relaxed as they were with Rachel – she just wasn't that kind of woman – but he also knew that, as great as his evening had been, it had lacked the intensity even a mere shared glance with Isabella stirred inside of him.
It was strange and frustrating to keep on dangling between the two opposites – easygoing and casual on the one side and complex and intense on the other – and as they got closer to town, Edward could feel himself getting more wound up with every mile they drove.
Why couldn't he just focus on what – and who – was in front of him? Why couldn't he just be happy he'd found a great girl who seemed to be interested in him enough to spend some time with him and who, by the looks of it, wouldn't be opposed to a good make out session – or even more, if he played his cards right – in the hallway when he dropped her off? Why couldn't he just go for it?
But that was just it. He couldn't. There was something holding him back, something deep down inside that knew this wasn't right, that Rachel was the wrong woman for him to be with, no matter how easy she was to be around or how good it made him feel. How good she could make him feel.
He sighed, his hands clenching around the wheel as he parked the car by the side of the road next to Rachel's house, determined to put a stop to all silly thoughts of other women when something damn good was right in front of him - or next to him at that moment. "Well…here we are."
Well, this is awkward. He cringed at his own lack of skills. No matter how long it had been since he'd been out on a date with a woman who wasn't his wife, he should have done better than uttering a cliché in a shaky voice. What was he? Fifteen years old?
If Rachel found his stuttering laughable, she didn't let on. "Yeah," she smiled. Again with the sweet, easy smile of hers that made him want to want her more than anything. "I had a great time tonight."
"So did I." He nodded, feeling that inward sense of triumph when it became clear Rachel was waiting for him to make a move. "Let me walk you to your door?"
"That would be nice." Rachel beamed, even though at the short distance between the car and the front door of her apartment building and the lack of actual crime figures that marked the small, rural town, she would have been in no real danger of being mugged, maimed or killed, even if Edward had stayed in the car or driven away.
Edward smiled back as he followed her, though it didn't escape her notice that there was a kind of tension around his mouth that made her wonder if they were both on the same page when it came to what was happening between them. She sure hoped so because…damn, she wanted him.
All doubts were cast aside, though, the minute they reached her front door; a look of sheer determination crossing over Edward's face only seconds before he pressed his lips to hers, his hands closing around her waist and pulling her into him as his hips pressed her up against the door.
Fuck, yeah! She thought, her hands finally doing what they'd been dying to do ever since she set eyes on him as they wove into those riotous, untamed locks of his, a wanton moan escaping her lips as she felt just how 'into' her he was at that moment.
For a second Edward felt a sheer sense of triumph, the needs of his body and desires of his mind overwriting that nagging voice at the back of his head that kept on telling him what he was doing was wrong. Well, fuck this! He growled to himself, his hand wandering underneath the hem of her dress and up her leg as he kissed her until they were both almost blue in the face.
Still, it felt wrong. He growled, pulling away from her and taking a few steps backwards to put some distance between the two of them even though he was sure Rachel wouldn't be averse to inviting him in. It feels wrong. It will be wrong, even though he doesn't want it to.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he panted, his eyes lingering on her flustered and thoroughly kissed expression for just long enough to watch her nod faintly before he made his way back to the car, his sense of triumph diminishing with every step he took.
Thoughts?
BTW, the salad bowl incident really happened. And it hurt.