Winnie's POV
La Push has lots of charm to it that, I personally avoid like the plague. Some being the beaches, the farmers markets, whale watching and horse riding ranches, that I never dare to show my face at. If I can avoid it, I don't do my day to day on the Res. I work off reservation at the Lodge, then right after a shift I'll keep avoiding my hometown by making my drive longer to go further into Forks to their grocery store.
Though it may be small, I've never minded the lengthy drive as long as no one hassles me while I shop. I've been one of the car few Quillayute shoppers for years, besides the occasional Quillayute whose married a Forks local.
"Winnie?" There should have been the sound of broken glass after the sound of my name. I flinched so hard when I heard it, I dropped the jarred sauce I was looking at. There should be broken glass and tomato sauce all over the floor and down the front of my uniform, but instead it's cupped safely by Paul's massive hand.
"Close one." He grunts out, placing the jar neatly back on the shelf. Seeing him here reminds me of Embry, and a part of me wishing I ran into him. Since it's pouring out, he's in a black hoodie that's damp around the shoulders.
"Oh, hey Paul." I greet shakily, glad to see it's only him.
"You don't seem like the type to scare easily." He observes, asking in his own Paul way if I'm okay or not.
"I'm usually not, but the grocery store is just terrifying." I try at a joke that doesn't lighten the mood. "You're fast." I point out, looking back at the end of the aisle I swore he was at when he called out my name.
"Fast reflexes." He flexes his muscle a bit, which are admittedly large.
"We could use those kind of reflexes at the Lodge,"
"I shouldn't work around food, I'll clean out the whole restaurant." Paul admits, pointing at the pile of food in his basket. It's filled with instant foods and junk food like mac n cheese, ramen noodles and flaming hot Cheetos. I'm not much better off with how little I can cook, mostly living off cold no prepare food like cereal and bagged salad. Though Embry would judge the pair of us.
"Just got off work?" He asked, gesturing to my uniform.
"Yeah,"
"You shop all the way out here a lot?" I can already tell he's gonna mention to Embry I come out here to shop instead of staying local. La Push and Forks are already a thirty minute drive apart, with the store being on the other side of Forks lengthening it to at least forty five minute drive.
"Sometimes after work." I shrug, hoping he doesn't ask anymore questions.
"What brings you all the way out here?" I ask, trying to get the focus off of me. His shoulders go stiff as he glares down at his sneakers, and I know I shouldn't have asked.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy." I shrug off.
"You're about the least nosy person I know." Paul says, his mood shifting just the slightest. "No, it's okay. I figured if I shopped out here, I wouldn't run into my dad." I try my best to keep sympathy off my face, feeling like a complete jerk that he felt pressured to tell me.
"Well, I'm avoiding the entire reservation, so we can hide out together." I tell him, which doesn't make him as relieved as I thought it would.
"Damn," Paul nods along solemnly.
"Yeah." I agree, liking how Paul can be a man of few words sometimes. We both silently agree the matter doesn't need to be discussed any further, and move on.
"Are you just shopping for you?" I ask, falling into step with Paul as we move through the aisles.
"No, I was trying to shop so Embry and his mom wouldn't have to, but I'm not doing the best so far." Paul grumbles, shifting his basket from one hand to other. "Embry does most of the cooking, which means he does most of the shopping too." Paul adds.
"Hmm, how about just buy the basics? Like garlic, onions, sliced bread, milk, eggs, paper towels." I list off, already running out of ideas.
"Maybe I should just buy whatever I want him to cook." Paul scratches his chin, glancing over at the meat section. "Like bacon, pizza and nachos."
"That's a solid plan." I know Embry would rather get punched in the gut than be forced to make junk food. He doesn't mind eating it, but he takes his cooking too seriously to make something that unhealthy. Though he might be interested in making homemade pizza.
"How's it been at Embry's?" I ask, stopping to take a number of the deli counter.
"Pretty damn nice." He sighs. "Embry and his mom are really thoughtful and considerate hosts. And the Clearwaters? It's like staying at a damn bed and breakfast. The Blacks are always fun too."
"It sounds like you're having a decent time?"
"Yeah, it sucks." He sighs as he crosses his arms over his chest. I give him a confused look instead of asking him out right what he means. It's none of my business anyway.
"I mean, everyone but me has a good home." He explains.
"Oh." I nod along.
"But I also wouldn't want to move back in with my old man either. It's weird." He explains.
"No, I know what you mean." I agree, knowing too well exactly what he means. Paul looks relieved at how he doesn't need to explain himself, and almost gives me a reassured smile that immediately drops from his face.
He stiffens up, doubling in height like an animal going on the defense. Everything about him is taunt, his jaw is tight, the corners of his eyes, his shoulders, and his fists at his sides. I follow his heated gaze towards a small family of three behind a cart. At first I don't really understand what made Paul upset, I rarely do, but then I flinch when I really see them.
It's a family of three, a tall man, a young women who are both look around our age. Along with a little girl. The three of them look so unnaturally conventionally attractive, it's as if they're not real. Their features look as if they were carved into stone statues, with skin so pale pulled over the rock. They have amber eyes too big for their face surrounded by eyelashes so full they seem fake, like dolls. The way they move is silent and smooth, then completely still in between. It's the kind of perfect that is not normal. A silent alarm sounds off in my head, along with the uneasy feeling in my gut.
"Hi!" The little girl rushes up to Paul and I as if she knows us, and I try my best not to back up in response. Paul's hand lands protectively on my shoulder, guiding me behind him as if he's doing something protective. All he does is nod in greeting, so I give the girl a weak grin.
"Hi." I manage.
"Hi Paul," The woman catches up, the man behind her looking quietly unpleased.
"Bella, Edward," That's all of Paul's greeting.
"Renesmee, this is Paul. He's one of Jacob's friends, remember?" Bella lowers down to explain to the little girl who nods happily. I try my hardest not to wince at the name. And I thought the name Winifred was rough.
"It's a family name." Edward explains, almost knowing I was thinking over the name. His face goes from empty to a pleasant grin with teeth so white they almost remind me of canines. He holds out his hand to be polite, the movement so poised I almost forget to respond. Paul looks like he wants to smack my hand away, but doesn't make a scene. I shake his hand, managing not to gasp at how cold his skin is. It felt like ice against my skin, the kind of ice so harsh and frozen, my joints almost felt ached like being outside in a blizzard without gloves.
"We've haven't met before. Nice to meet you. I'm Edward, my wife Bella is childhood friends with your friend Jacob." Edward explains, not at all offended at how I pull my hand a little too quickly.
"Nice to meet you too, I'm Winnie." I introduce myself, trying my best at a smile.
"Like a willow tree. How pretty." Renesmee smiles up at me, talking double her age.
"Thank you."
"What brings you two so far from La Push?" Edwards asks.
"Yeah, I can't imagine our groceries here in Forks are much different than the ones in La Push." Bella jokes but it doesn't quite land.
"Oh, we actually just ran into each other." I explain during Paul's quiet act.
"What about you guys?" Paul practically accuses.
"We're buying a few things for Renesmee." Edwards states. They both seem too young to have a child, especially a child that age. Their cart has a few random things, some heads of lettuce and some fruits. More than anything else, there's piles of raw meat wrapped neatly in parchment and thread.
"I didn't know you guys ate... processed. I thought only that organic stuff. Aren't you vegetarians?"
"Paul." I warn him, giving him a sheer "what the hell," expression. Paul only shrugs off me off, exchanging a pointed glare in their direction.
"Don't worry," Edward gathers Renesmee up in his arms to put her in the cart. "We're use to Paul." Bella wordlessly glares at Paul. If I thought they looked abnormal before, she looks absolutely terrifying angry, completely disturbing to look at. All gritted teeth and eyes doubling in size with anger. I stagger back, my hand instinctively going to grab Paul, but he doesn't budge.
"Bella," Edward says softly, putting a hand on her arm. I flinch when their pairs of amber of eyes land on me, my skin crawling under their gaze. She calms down, her face smoothing out into that too perfect face again.
"It was nice meeting you." Edward says in my direction before guiding his family away. Bella gives a tight goodbye before shooting Paul another glare.
"Bye Willow." Renesmee says with a wave, and it sends a chill down my spine. I manage one back, but can't get the lines on my face to work off the worried look on my face. Paul doesn't move for several minutes, still stiff and brewing.
"What the hell was that about?" I exclaim, going to cross my arms but instead feel my arms hug myself. I can't explain why I feel so uneasy.
"I can't tell you. Embry has to be the one who explains it." Is all Paul says before grabbing both our baskets and going to the checkout.
"Embry? What does this have to do with Embry?" I say after him, before catching up with him. "Excuse me, I wasn't done shopping yet."
"Did they creep you out?" Paul whirls on me, bearing down at me with a pointed glare. Something Embry would never do. I wish he was here to explain what just happened, but I suspect he wouldn't answer my questions straightforwardly either, but he would be much calmer and reasonable than Paul is being right now.
"Well, yes..."
"Can you tell me why?" Paul asks impatiently.
"Not exactly." I admit to my feet, just now realizing they didn't blink... "They were... like... I dunno. But you were being rude and they were perfectly polite." Paul scoffs at my words. Taking a step back, I wonder if he's going to start yelling at me right here in the middle of the aisle.
"But you felt it, right? That gut feeling? You know there was something not normal about them. Something not right." I don't agree, keeping how he's right to myself. "If you won't listen to me, then listen to your gut. Just avoid them and anyone that pale." Paul grunts, marching off to checkout our stuff.
Paul drove me all the way home, taking my keys after loading up my car with both our groceries. He didn't say much on the drive, looking a bit paranoid each time he glanced in my rearview mirror. Halfway into La Push he realized he had no idea where he was going, and I had to give him directions to my place.
"You live at Old Lady Enola's?" Paul asks, taking all my bags in one arm.
"No, I rent from her behind her house." I state, making sure to take my car keys back. After the show he made and the lecture I had to hear, Paul is defiantly carrying my groceries to the door. Starting to lead the way, I stop midway when Enola's back door opens.
"Winifred, did you finally bring that boy of yours to help me around the house?" Enola calls out into her backyard.
"Your boy?" Paul's smirk is wide and corny.
"Shut up." I warn, looking away in a weak attempt to hide how red my face is.
"No, this is Paul not Embry." I answer.
"Did Sam send him?" She asks with narrow eyes.
"No, he's helping me with my groceries." I explain.
"So, Winifred has two boys helping her and I have none." She scoffs under her breath, slamming the door shut.
"What was that about?" Paul questions, following me to my cabin.
"She keeps asking me to get you and the boys to do some housework for her." I answer, moving to unlock the door.
"Does she pay?"
"She defiantly pays. But I'm not sure if she can pay for all of you. I think she's looking for more volunteering."
"We're like Boy Scouts. Sam has us doing a lot of stuff for free." Paul explains. "How much does she need help with?"
"The whole house." I gesture towards the big Victorian house behind us. "Everything. Gutters, mowing the lawn, weed work, power washing, cleaning windows, fixing squeaky door hinges, moving furniture, clearing out bags from the attic, painting; everything."
"That's not all of it is it."
"It's not even half." I explain. "She's too old to keep up with all the work, and the house is even older. It's a lot of upkeep. She might even some construction to replace some fixtures."
"Hmm, sounds like she can use the help anyway. I'll bring it up to Sam." He hands me the bags, dumping them in my arms before rushing down the steps. "Embry will probably talk to you soon."
Embry's POV
Patrol was harder than usual. The rain suddenly came down, but never cleared away like it usually does. It was already pitch dark, but the rain brought in thick fog with it. The ground went soft from all the water, sliding under our paws and causing us to sink with each step. Jacob and I were patrolling, but when thunder started to snap, Sam called us back in with a howl.
Now, we're at Emily's kitchen table downing her homemade chicken noodle soup by the bowlful. My hair is still wet and stuck to my head, but it's drying fast with my natural body heat. Emily's and Sam's house reminds me a lot of Winnie's cabin, it's just as cozy and warm. Though triple the size and it always smells like home cooking, whereas Winnie doesn't know how to cook.
"Yo," Paul greets, walking in and bringing in water with him. The room gives him a greeting around spoonfuls of soup, with Emily making him leave his wet shoes by the door. He doesn't say anything till after a bowl of soup, only speaking up halfway through his second.
"The Cullens met Embry's imprint today." He finally announces.
"Winnie?" The room hushes over, with the tension mounding all the while Paul casually sips on his soup. "Paul!"
"Yes, Winnie. How many girls do you know who are named after a willow tree and also Embry's imprint?" Paul shrugs.
"Her name is Winifred." I grind out a patient tone, but it's killing me not knowing what happened today between Winnie and the Cullens.
"Tell us what happened!" Sam sighs, pinching the small space between his eyes.
"We ran into them at the local market, how weird is that?" Paul doesn't notice how stiff the room goes. With Emily flinching over by the stove.
"The store? What were they doing at the market? With all those people shopping for their groceries? Isn't that breaking the treaty?" Emily wrings out a dish towel nervously, giving Sam a worried look. That look is all what it takes for Sam to spring into action, already getting his shoes.
"No, we were at the store over in Forks." Paul clarifies. There's a thud followed by a damnit from where Sam leaves them by the door. Emily gets so annoyed, she takes away Paul's bowl of soup away.
"Hey!" Paul barks.
"You'll get it back after you tell us what happened." Emily states, stashing it in the microwave.
"You should have started with that." Sam grinds out, lowering down on a chair.
"What were you two doing in Forks? Together?" I question, trying to keep calm.
"We ran into each other." Paul shrugs, before continuing his story. "We also ran into the local clew of leeches. Just Bella, Edward and their spawn. Apparently they were shopping for their daughter. Who knew she ate?"
"She eats." Jacob finally speaks up, not looking up from stirring his soup. "She doesn't need to eat, or have an appetite for food, but she eats."
"Didn't you see her take down a mountain lion?" Sam brings up, knowing the story second hand from Jacob's mind. Jacob hesitates before nodding yes, the whole room flinching. While I know Edward and Bella wouldn't attack humans, it's unsettling know Winnie was around their half-human half vampire offspring. We don't know how much restraint she has yet, or how much humanity she has.
"So she does eat. She drinks blood and bloody meat." Sam doubles down.
"They did have a shopping cart full of meat. It may have been for her." Paul mentions.
"They were probably just shopping to make it them look less suspicious. You know, like how everyone goes shopping." Jacob clarifies.
"Did they do anything weird to Winnie?" I ask, rising to my feet. I'm not sure if I'm about to go call her or just go to her cabin to check on her myself. I'll make the decision when I get to the door.
"No, they weren't different from their bloodthirsty, non-breathing, non-blinking selves. Just as weird as always." Paul shrugs. "But Winnie did have a lot of questions. She could tell something was off. I told her you would have to tell her."
"But, I'm not ready to tell her!" I point out. If I tell Winnie now, she'll think I'm crazy. If I transform in front of her, she'll convince herself she's crazy and have a breakdown. I'm taking things slow to ease her in. She hasn't even met the entire pack.
"What are you going to do?" Sam asks, following me out the door. I didn't realize I just upped and left till he caught up with me by my van. Sagging against my van, I take a deep breath to try to keep myself calm. A part of me feels bad that Sam followed me all the way out here in the middle of the rain. But with how cold and icy the downpour is, it's a helpful reminder to keep from shifting.
"I'm not sure," I admit.
"That's not like you, just running off before thinking something through." Sam points out.
"I know Paul said she was alright, but I need to see for myself..." I admit lowly, fidgeting with my car keys.
"I get that. If it were Emily, I'd drop everything to go see her too." Same nods. "How about we go for a run and go check together?" Sam offers.
"In this rain? No way." I decline his offer.
"Come on, we're already soaked and it's not like we get sick anyway." Sam waves off, already walking off towards the woods.
*A/N: In my fic, Jacob and Renesme are not imprints, because that's weird AF. Neither is Quil and Clare.