Winnie's POV
"Come on," When I put my car in park, Enola opens the passenger door so fast I don't have time to react. "Let's move, youngin',"
"Oh, hi—" I stop mid sentence when I see the rifle leaning against her shoulder. It's the very same rifle I've seen mounted in her house. She said it was her grandfather's, passed down from father to father. Yet, here it is, shined and loaded in my car.
"Wait, wait, wait—"
"We don't have time to wait." Enola scoffs in that rough, raspy voice of hers. She pats the dash to signal me to move, but I'm so frazzled I don't dare move the car. I just got out of work, still in my uniform with my apron still hanging on my waist by a loose knot. She's not dressed in her usual chunky knitted cardigans or her clogs, instead she's wearing forest green trousers, and a thick denim shirt with her father's old boots on. She looks like she's about to go duck hunting.
"Wait Enola! Explain this please! Where do you need to go that requires a gun!" I'm starting to freak out a bit now, my hands going sweaty against the wheel, my voice rising and threatening to break. She chuckles as if I'm silly, which does nothing for my nerves.
"This antique?" She waves off, buckling herself and the gun in.
"Enola, please—" I start, feeling what's left of my usual composure and calm spilt. Enola can certainly be rambunctious for her age. She's certainly earned her reputation on the Res for being curt, blunt, and strident. I hadn't known she even liked me till almost a year of renting from her. But all of her stunts and requests have never had her armed.
"I just need a ride to go meet Quil Senior, now don't you worry, Winifred." Enola explains. "The safety is on."
"Oh," I say shakingly, putting the car in reverse. The image of Old Quil is what soothes me. The town elder is strict, but well mannered and reserved. He's on the La Push council, along with the La Push historical society and in charge of every event on the Res. Old Quil probably wants to the rifle for some historical thing or something...
At least that's what I keep telling myself on the drive.
"The Lahote boy told me you ran into the Cullens yesterday." Enola suddenly brings up.
"You mean Bella and Edward?" I ask, following her directions. I don't remember Paul going off to have a one on one with my landlord. She probably caught him right before he was leaving the property. Or maybe Paul went to ask if she'd hire him to do repairs after he saw me off at my cabin.
"Yes, those two." She nods, staring firmly out the window. "Were they... fresh to you?"
"Fresh?" I repeat the word back as if she spoke French. "No, no, they were perfectly polite... just..."
"Just what?" Her head doesn't move, but her dark eyes slide towards me.
"Just... intimidating." Is the word I settle on. She huffs to herself, dissatisfied with my words.
"Did you they make you feel any type of way?" Enola follows up. The more we talk about the Cullens, the menacing feeling from yesterday doubles down. Just thinking about them gives me chills. When I don't answer, she takes my silence as an answer. "Well, you keep away from intimidating folks like that." Enola advises.
I almost ask what she means. Did she mean people from Forks? Or ghoulish, ominous people who look too perfect to be normal.
"If you see them up in Forks, just stay away from them, Winifred. Call one of Sam's boys or even a local, though I know how you don't like them." Enola states.
"Why?" I ask apprehensively, slowing the car down as we approach a double wide trailer. The grass surrounding the trailer is over grown, with a beat up old truck rusting at one end of the trailer. There's litter leading up the door, with empty packs of cigarettes and beer cans all about.
This isn't the Ateara property. Though old Quil is out front along side Billy Black. Both looking serious and grave.
"Because we have to do whatever we can to keep ourselves safe." Is all Enola says before getting out of the buggie.
"Enola," I rush out after her, barely catching up with her. "What are we doing at Paul's house?"
"You've heard about Paul's old man coming back into town." She doesn't asks, she confirms while checking to see how many bullets are loaded. "Well, Terrance Lahote has always been a prick. He's been causing hell all over the Res, and he's certainly been bothering that nice friend of yours, Paul. Usually Terrance leaves town by now, but he's really making himself comfortable. So, Quil Senior, Billy and I are just gonna have a word with him."
"Enola—" The alarm in my voice makes her laugh.
"You should go home. You look like the squeamish type." She pats my arm warmly, then greets the men with a nod and a "You boys ready?"
Feeling overwhelmed, I stay rooted by the hood of my buggie, watching as the three elders go pound on the door. They shout into the trailer, announcing their presence and how they want to talk to Mr. Lahote. The trailer looks dark, with the curtains drawn but a deep voice yells back a "Damn it, don't company call anymore?"
Watching on in fear, I have no idea what I should do. I haven't felt this scared since the beach in freshman year.
I haven't known Enola very long, only for handful of years. I hadn't even known she liked me till a full year after I moved in. Yet, she's the number I put down for all my emergency contacts, the person I greet everyday, the reason I have a place to live. Though it's hard to get to know her, and even harder for her to get to know someone else, I get worried for her when it snows. What do I do if she gets hurt? Or worse, ends up in a cell upstate for shooting a man?
"You look scared." Billy Black finally addresses me, chancing a glance away from the trailer to nod at me. "You don't have worry about Enola, this ain't her first time with that rifle. I'd be more worry for Terrance than her." There's no gun shots yet, but Old Quil and Enola have entered the trailer, while Billy Black stays by the door. I can hear talking, but can't make out what's being said. I take the lack of yelling as a good sign.
"Not a chance in hell!" I flinch at the booming voice, knowing it's Lahote. My stomach drops when the trailer starts bouncing with movement and ruckus, a bad feeling creeping up my spine.
"Now, I said—" I hear Old Quil start but never finish.
"Lahote! This is a warning shot!" There's no mistaking Enola's shout. Just as I brave a few steps forward a thundering gun shot off. Billy Black and I both duck down, and I drop behind my buggie. The trailer trembles with impact, paneling and debris falling off the side. Billy Black laughs like he's watching a drunk girl ride a mechanical bull at a bar, while I'm freaking out.
"Watch it!" Enola warns Billy, who barely has a second to wheel himself out of the way when Terrance Lahote comes flying out the door. Lahote lands in his pile of cans and litter, staggering as he gets to his feet. Terrance Lahote looks nothing like his son Paul. He's a middle aged man with long unkept hair that's graying here already. He's wearing mismatching cameo pants that clash with an unbuttoned yellow flannel.
"Why you—" He starts, but Billy Black tells him to shut up if he knows what's good for him.
"Now, those were warning shots," Enola starts, clumping out of the trailer with her rifle smoking at the barrel. She helps Old Quil down, lending him her elbow till he's outside where all the chaos has moved to. "The next ones won't be."
"Enola, you damn maggoty bitch!" I let out a scream into my fist this time when the shots ring out again. Despite her warning from earlier, Enola let out warning shots at Lahore's feet. The air fills up with the burning stench of sulfur and gunpowder, the fumes stinging my eyes.
"I'm a bitch who don't mind the sight of blood, Terrance." Enola says around the barrel of rifle, one eye open as she takes aim. Lahote grumbles under his breath the whole walk over to his truck, swerving out in a near fish tale when he pulls out. He shouts out another a curse word on the drive out, which gets him another bullet right in the bumper. The three of them laugh as they watch Lahote drive off, shouting after him not to come back.
"You're still here?" Enola's face brightens with surprise when she sees me shaking my by my car.
"Yeah..." I admit sorely.
"She may be a flincher, but you got a loyal one here, Enola. No matter how scared she got, she didn't run off." Billy Black states, clapping me on the back.
"Well, color me impressed." Enola grins.
"What did you say to him to get hime to leave?" The disbelief in my voice is obvious.
"We told him he owed us money." Old Quil answers, a rare grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"That got him out of here faster than a scared rabbit." Billy Black chuckles, slapping his knee.
"Did he?" I ask.
"Not a cent. But Terrance owes so much, and he's so drunk most of the time, he wouldn't even know. So, he left before even realizing he doesn't." Billy Black explains.
"I don't know about you all, but all that threatening made me thirsty. Anyone up for a drink?" Enola, stashing her rifle in my backseat like it's groceries.
"I'm not old enough to drink..." I remind her. All three of them burst out in fits of laughing.
Between Forks and La Push, there's not a local tavern or bar for miles. The Lodge serves some beer, but not anything that's served from a cocktail shaker. Billy Black was nice enough to invite us back to his backyard for some drinks and whatever he had in the fridge. What was suppose to be the four us, quickly tripled till all of Sam Uley's gang and their families showed up.
"You are the last person I'd expect to see here." Embry smiles ear to ear when he sees me at the cooler with an armload of Pepsi I got from the garage to refill. He immediately helps me, lessening the load but taking them from my arms and shoving them in the ice. I'm surprised he managed to find me in crowd. There's so many people he could have said hi to first, yet he picked me out easy in the crowd and come straight over.
"I'm Enola's plus one," I nudge my head towards the fire pit where Enola is helping—well, more like showing Jacob how to chop wood. For someone in her seventies, she looks like she's having the time of her life. Swinging the axe high over her gray head with a sick smirk whenever she sends it plunging into a chunk of wood. She accomplishes clean slices with every hit, splitting each chuck right down the middle. No wonder she had such good aim with Paul's day earlier. "And her designated driver." I add.
"I didn't know Enola partied." Embry laughs, finishing up.
"She parties, and shoots too." I nod.
"Shoots?" Embry questions.
"Is Paul here? This is his party." I change the subject, smiling to myself at the thought of Enola aiming her rifle for Lahote. It looked like he was going to piss himself. Heck, I thought I was going to.
"You heard his dad left town?" Embry asks.
"I was there when he left." I clarify.
"Huh?" Embry does a double take.
"Right after I got off work, Enola got in my car and told me to drive her to meet Old Quil. Turns out she had me drive her to Paul's place so she, Old Quil and Billy Black could run him out of the Res." I explain, Embry's face getting tighter and tighter with each word.
"You were there?" He repeats, still in shock. "Did Paul's dad do anything? Did you get dragged in? Are you alright—" He fires, his hands landing on my shoulders.
"I'm peachy." I sooth him. "I'm really happy for Paul." My words seem to calm down a bit. Just enough for the tension in his shoulders to lessen up a bit.
"You met Paul's dad. He's a real piece of work, huh?" Embry says lowly under his breath as if Paul right next to us. Though no one is near us to over hear a word.
"Hmm, didn't really meet him." I shrug. He waits for me to offer up more details, but I just smile off in the direction of Enola instead. I don't know how to tell him the whole story about Enola threatening Paul's dad. I don't want to cramp the mood yet. "You know this is my first party since freshman year?"
"This is?" Embry softens around the eyes, his hand finding my waist and pulling me in. I didn't picture my first party post high school would be in my waitress uniform, but nobody seems to care, so I'm not. I also never picture going to a party with Embry Call at my side.
Fifteen year old would be gobsmacked.
"It is." I nod. "You were mister popular. What should I do at parties?" Embry scoffs at the Mr. Popular remark, rolling his black eyes at it.
"Well, first it's good to say hi to everybody. Maybe drink a round or two. I played beer pong a lot. Some drinking games like truth or dare. More drinking. And more drinking." Embry summaries.
"That all sounds like my least idea of a good time." I sigh, my head landing against Embry's side.
"You've already known everyone here for most of your life." Embry points out. "Come on, let's start easy. Let's go say hi to Seth Clearwater." Embry suggests, gesturing with his chin to where a sixteen year old Seth, whose helping his mom Sue Clearwater and his cousin Emily with serving trays of food. From across the yard I can see him smiling the friendliest, brightest smile I've ever seen.
"Only because I'm starving and he's by the food." I joke more to myself than to Embry, trying to work through some of my social anxiety. He gives me an encouraging squeeze, promising in my ear how much they're going to like me.
Embry was right, since Sue, Emily and Seth just about tackled me before I could get a hello out. The three of them swarmed me in hugs, gushing over me and making me do twirls while they kept asking Embry over and over again "Is this her!" I didn't know Embry was telling anyone we're seeing each other.
"You're too skinny, Winnie." Sue keeps piling food on a plate, ignoring Embry whenever he asked for some too. Sue piles hot dogs, burgers and corn on the cob so high on my plate, I just hand the plate off to Embry since he has the stomach to handle it. He immediately doubles the amount with potato salad, ribs and drizzling chili on his hot dogs. With his first bite, he's already being asked to help with something in the house.
"She's gorgeous." Emily gushes, giving my cheeks a squeeze like I'm a baby.
"T-thanks," I stutter, not use to the attention. My cheeks are redder than anytime Embry has ever gotten me to blush. Even with all the scars on half body, Emily is still the prettiest person whose ever complimented me.
"Go eat before they eat you alive," Leah Clearwater warns, coming up to grab food instead of introducing herself, then walking right off again before I can say hi.
"She's always like that." Seth pats my back, helping me find a spot on a log by the fire. I make a mental note to go try speaking to Sue and Emily again, maybe try asking them a few questions next time.
"You know, I think your pajamas were cuter." Jared Cameron drops down next to me, giving me one of his coy smirks that use to get the whole grade dizzy. Where Paul was a playboy, Jared was the ladies man. Though, he's given up his reputation for Paul to carry on since he's gotten involved with his longtime girlfriend Kim. "Where did you buy them? I want to get a pair for my girlfriend, I know she'd love them."
"Um," Jared is so naturally charismatic, it's almost hard to meet his charm. I don't even know how to be that interesting. "If I remember right, target."
"Did they come in different colors?" He asks around a mouthful of burger. I'm suddenly don't find him that intimidating anymore.
"No clue. But flowers would match." I suggest, almost laughing at how his eyes light up.
"I never took you for a romantic, Wins." Jared says, taking out his phone to write that down. I don't mention how I like the nickname.
"Embry's teaching me." I say fondly, grinning to myself. I smile even through my dinner, the food good and the company even better. I didn't grow up in a big family, I was left alone most of the time after my aunt took me in. Then I was a social outcast, but I find this almost like a movie, almost too good to be true.
"You're having fun." Enola observes, lowering down where Jared was a moment ago.
"I am." I nod, offering her my dinner roll. With a shake of her, she declines. Jokingly using Sue Clearwater's words from earlier about how I'm too skinny.
"You know what would be really fun?" She leans in with a whisper, pulling out a rolled joint.
"Something recreational?"
"Don't you get wild?" She questions.
"The last time I went wild, it didn't go well for me." I sigh, stabbing my salad a bit too hard. "Though, I have a feeling Old Quil would join you."
"Just like the good days. He was my seller when I was your age, you know." Enola laughs, before getting up to find him. She leaves me choking on my food.
"Did she just run off to get my grandpa weed?" Quil bulks across the fire. I'm still wondering how he heard us when he gets us after Enola, muttering about Old Quil's heart medication. I watch him chase after her, trying not to laugh. I saw Enola shot at a man today, there's nothing Quil Ateara or anyone can say to change Enola's mind. Though I do find it funny when they try.
"Are you cold?" Embry finds his way back to me, he's been running around helping Jacob keep the cooler full with ice, empty the trash, and the paper plates and food in supply. I know how Embry likes to give a helping hand to anyone, though I haven't seen much of him since he's first got here.
"Not really," I shrug.
"If you are, I think Jacob's sisters left some things you can borrow." Embry insists. I pass off my plate to him, letting him have whatever's left. I know he's hungry, he's always hungry. In addition to his first plate is still where he left it when Jacob first called him over.
"Thirsty?" I offer him my lemonade too. He chugs it between sips.
"You sure you're not cold?" Embry doubles down before digging into the plate.
"Not with you here. You're also running warm." I say, inching a bit closer. His arm land on my shoulder, pulling in close where I can bask in his heat. "I like your friends," I decide.
He smiles into the fire, looking like I just made his day. "My friends like you."
"Where's Paul?" Despite how this is his party, he hasn't joined us once. I wondered around the Black's house with a plate of food in case I found him before anyone else did. Though, I didn't find him, Embry did.
The man is like a blood hound.
"Hungry?" I offer Paul the plate. He hid himself in Jacob's garage, ducking down behind Billy's truck to sit on the floor far enough from everyone else. He's stewing with anger, his face stormy.
"No," Paul declines. Now I know he's not well.
"You want me to drive you home?" Embry offers, holding his keys up. "Want to come over to my place?"
"No." Paul grumbles. Taking the hint, Embry nods understandably while guiding us out. Embry tells Paul if he needs him to text him.
"He needs to be alone." Embry sighs, closing the garage door behind us. We stay right by the door, filling up the hallway in Jacob's house. Embry taking the most room with how tall he is. He's so tall, he's eye level with all the family pictures.
"No, he doesn't." I say simply, "I get it. He's pissed his dad left. But he's also relieved. It's a no win situation."
"You two are a lot more alike than I first thought." Embry observes.
"Me and Paul?"
"At first, I figured you two couldn't be more opposite. But you get him. Because you two grew up similarly." Embry gives his thoughts, his dark eyes studying me the whole time.
"Maybe my aunt and Paul's dad have things in common," I amend, failing at a wobbly grin.
"What did you need when your aunt left?" Embry questions.
"I felt like..." I take a deep breath, "Like I hated being alone, and I needed her to come back and be better." Embry already is opening the door, ignoring Paul telling us he wants to be alone.
"We're just gonna listen to some music." Embry shrugs, taking keys off a hook to get the truck's radio going. We leave the plate of food by Paul, and sit in the truck wordlessly with the door open. Embry and I don't say a word, just occasionally switching stations.
Nearly half an hour goes by before Paul tells us to let him pick a song.