“You’ll want to put that in the fridge,” Bonnie instructed as she handed me the package. “It’s a batch of Holly Clearwater’s homemade fish fry. Charlie’s favorite. The fridge keeps it drier.”
“Thanks,” I repeated with more emotion. “I was running out of ways to cook fish, and he’s bound to bring more home tonight.”
“Fishing again?” Bonnie asked. She was suddenly intent. “Down at the usual spot? Maybe I’ll run by and see him.”
“No,” I lied quickly. “He was headed someplace new … but I have no idea where.”
She stared at my face, her eyes narrowing. It was always so obvious when I tried to lie.
“Julie,” she said, still eyeing me. “Why don’t you go get that new picture of Aaron out of the car? I’ll leave that for Charlie, too.”
“Where is it?” Jules asked. Her voice sounded kind of down. I glanced at her, but she was staring at the floor, her black brows pulling together.
“I think I saw it in the trunk,” Bonnie said. “You may have to dig for it.”
Jules stalked back out into the rain.
Bonnie and I faced each other in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet started to feel awkward, so I turned and headed to the kitchen. I could hear her wet wheels squeak against the linoleum as she followed.
I fit the paper bag into a space on the top shelf of the fridge, and then turned slowly to meet the eyes I could feel boring into me.
“Charlie won’t be back for a long time.” My voice was almost rude.
She nodded in agreement, but said nothing.
“Thanks again for the fish fry,” I hinted.
She continued nodding. I sighed and leaned back against the counter.
“Beau,” she said, and then she hesitated.
I waited.
“Beau,” she said again, “Charlie is one of my best friends.”
“Yes.”
She spoke each word carefully in her deep voice. “I noticed you’ve been spending time with one of the Cullens.”
“Yes,” I repeated.
Her eyes narrowed again. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but I don’t think that is such a good idea.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “It is none of your business.”
She raised her thick eyebrows at my tone. “You probably don’t know this, but the Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation on the reservation.”
“Actually, I did know that,” I said in a hard voice. She looked surprised. “But that reputation couldn’t be deserved, could it? Because the Cullens never set foot on the reservation, do they?” I could see that my less-than-subtle reminder of the agreement that both bound and protected her tribe pulled her up short.
“That’s true,” she agreed, her eyes guarded. “You seem … well informed about the Cullens. More informed than I expected.”
I stared her down. “Maybe even better informed than you are.”
She pursed her thick lips as she considered that. “Maybe,” she allowed, but her eyes were shrewd. “Is Charlie as well informed?”
She had found the weak spot in my armor.
“Charlie likes the Cullens a lot,” I said. She obviously understood my evasion. Her expression was unhappy, but not surprised.
“It’s not my business,” she said. “But it may be Charlie’s.”
“Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think that it’s Charlie’s business, right?”
I wondered if she even understood my confused question as I struggled not to say anything compromising. But she seemed to. She thought about it while the rain picked up against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence.
“Yes.” She finally surrendered. “I guess that’s your business, too.”
I sighed with relief. “Thanks, Bonnie.”
“Just think about what you’re doing, Beau,” she urged.
“Okay,” I agreed quickly.
She frowned. “What I meant to say was, don’t do what you’re doing.”
I looked into her eyes, filled only with concern for me, and there was nothing I could say.
The front door banged loudly.
“There’s no picture anywhere in that car.” Jules’s complaining voice reached us before she did. She rounded the corner. The shoulders of her t-shirt were stained with the rain, her long hair dripping.
“Hmm,” Bonnie grunted, suddenly detached, spinning her chair around to face her daughter. “I guess I left it at home.”
Jules rolled her eyes dramatically. “Great.”
“Well, Beau, tell Charlie”—Bonnie paused before continuing—“that we stopped by, I mean.”
“I will,” I muttered.
Jules was surprised. “Are we leaving already?”
“Charlie’s gonna be out late,” Bonnie explained as she rolled herself past Jules.
“Oh.” Jules looked disappointed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then, Beau.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
“Take care,” Bonnie warned me. I didn’t answer.
Jules helped her mother out the door. I waved briefly, glancing swiftly toward my now-empty truck, and then shut the door before they were gone.
And then I had nothing to do but wait. After a few seconds staring at the empty kitchen, I sighed and started cleaning. At least it kept my hands busy. Not so much my thoughts. Now that I was away from Jessamine’s mood fix, I was able to really stress out about what I’d agreed to. But how hard could it be? Edythe said I wouldn’t have to play. I tried to convince myself it would be fine while scrubbing just a little too hard.
I was just finishing the bathroom when I finally heard Charlie’s car in the drive. I stacked the cleaning supplies in alphabetical order under the sink while listening to him come in the front door. He started banging around under the stairs, stowing his tackle.
“Beau?” he called.
“Hey, Dad,” I yelled back.
When I got downstairs, he was scrubbing his hands in the kitchen sink.
“Where’s the fish?” I asked.
“Out in the deep freeze.”
“I’ll go grab a couple while they’re fresh—Bonnie dropped off some of Holly Clearwater’s fish fry this afternoon.” I tried to sound enthusiastic.
“She did?” Charlie’s eyes lit up. “That’s my favorite!”
Charlie cleaned up while I got dinner ready. It wasn’t long before we were both at the table, eating in silence. Charlie was obviously enjoying the food. I was wondering how on earth I was supposed to broach the subject of my new … girlfriend.
“What did you do with yourself today?” he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Well, this afternoon I just hung out around the house… .” Only the very recent part of this afternoon, actually. I tried to keep my voice upbeat, but my stomach was hollow. “And this morning I was over at the Cullens’.”
Charlie dropped his fork.
“Dr. Cullen’s place?” he asked in astonishment.
I pretended not to notice his reaction. “Yeah.”
“What were you doing there?” He hadn’t picked his fork back up.
“Well, I sort of have a date with Edythe Cullen tonight, and she wanted to introduce me to her parents.”
He stared at me like I’d just announced that I’d spent the day knocking over liquor stores.
“What, Dad? Didn’t you just tell me that you wanted me to socialize?”
He blinked a few times, then picked up his fork. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He took another bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. “And didn’t you just tell me that none of the girls in town are your type?”
“I didn’t say that, you did.”
“Don’t get touchy with me, kid, you know what I mean. Why didn’t you say something? Was I being too nosey?”
“No, Dad, it’s just … this is all kind of new, okay? I didn’t want to jinx it.”
“Huh.” He reflected for a minute while he ate another bite. “So you went to meet her fol
ks, eh?”
“Er, yeah. I mean, I already knew Dr. Cullen. But I got to meet her father.”
“Earnest Cullen is great—quiet, but very … kind, I guess is the best word for it. There’s something about him.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.”
“Meeting the parents, though. Isn’t that kind of serious? Does that mean she’s your girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” This wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be. I felt a strange sense of pride, being able to claim her this way. Kind of Neanderthal of me, but there it was. “Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”
“Wow.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Do I get a visit, too?”
I raised one eyebrow. “Will you be on your best behavior?”
He lifted both hands. “What, me? Have I ever embarrassed you before?”
“Have I ever brought a girl over before?”
He huffed, then changed the subject. “When are you picking her up?”
“Um, she’s meeting me here. See—you do get a visit. She’ll probably be here soon, actually.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“Well, I guess the plan is that we’re going to go … play baseball with her family.”
Charlie stared at me for one second, and then he busted up. I rolled my eyes and waited for him to finish. Eventually, he pretended to wipe tears out of his eyes.
“I hope you’re getting that out of your system now.”
“Baseball, huh? You must really like this girl.”
I thought about just shrugging that off, but I figured he’d see through me anyway. “Yeah,” I said. “I really do.”
I heard an unfamiliar engine roar up to the house, and I looked up in surprise.
“That her?”
“Maybe …”
After a few seconds, the doorbell rang, and Charlie jumped up. I ran around him and beat him to the door.
“Pushy much?” he muttered under his breath.
I hadn’t realized how hard it was pouring outside. Edythe stood in the halo of the porch light, looking like a model in an ad for raincoats.
I heard Charlie’s breath catch in surprise. I wondered if he’d ever seen her up close before. It was kind of unnerving.
Even when you were used to it. I just stared at her, gobsmacked.
She laughed. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah! Of course.” I jumped back out of her way, knocking into Charlie in the process.
After a few seconds of bumbling around, I had her jacket hung up and had both her and Charlie sitting down in the living room. She was in the armchair, so I went to sit next to Charlie on the sofa.
“So, Edythe, how are your parents?”
“Excellent, thank you, Chief Swan.”
“You can call me Charlie. I’m off the clock.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” She unleashed the dimples, and his face went blank.
It took him a second to recover. “So, um, you’re playing baseball tonight?”
It didn’t seem to occur to either of them that the buckets of water falling out of the sky right now should impact these plans. Only in Washington.
“Yes. Hopefully Beau doesn’t mind hanging out with my family too much.”
Charlie jumped in before I could respond. “I’d say it was the baseball he’d mind more.”
They both laughed. I shot my dad a look. Where was the best behavior I’d been promised?
“Should we be on our way?” I suggested.
“We’re not in any hurry,” Edythe said with a grin.
I hit Charlie with my elbow. Edythe’s smile got wider.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Charlie said. “You kids go ahead, I’ve got a … a bunch of stuff to get to… .”
Edythe was on her feet in a fluid move. “It was lovely to see you, Charlie.”
“Yes. You come visit anytime, Edythe.”
“Thank you, you’re very kind.”
Charlie ran a hand through his hair selfconsciously. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so flustered.
“Will you kids be out super late?”
I looked at her.
“No, we’ll be reasonable.”
“Don’t wait up, though,” I added.
I handed her coat to her and then held the door. As she passed, Charlie gave me a wide-eyed look. I shrugged my shoulders and raised my eyebrows. I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky, either.
I followed her out onto the porch, then stopped dead.
There, behind my truck, was a monster Jeep. Its tires were as high as my waist. There were metal guards over the headlights and taillights, and four large spotlights attached to the crash bar. The hardtop was shiny red.
Charlie let out a low whistle. “Wear your seat belts.”
I went to the driver’s side to get the door for Edythe. She was inside in one efficient little leap, though I was glad we were on the far side of the Jeep from Charlie, because it didn’t look entirely natural. I went to my side and climbed gracelessly into my seat. She had the engine running now, and I recognized the roar that had surprised me earlier. It wasn’t as loud as my truck, but it sounded a lot more brawny.
Out of habit—she wasn’t going to start driving until I was buckled in—I reached for my seat belt.
“What—er—what is all this? How do I … ?”
“Off-roading harness,” she explained.
“Um.”
I tried to find all the right connectors, but it wasn’t going too fast. And then her hands were there, flashing around at a barely visible speed, and gone again. I was glad the rain was too thick to see Charlie clearly on the porch, because that meant he couldn’t see me clearly, either.
“Er, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I knew better than to ask if she was going to put her own harness on.
She pulled away from the house.
“This is a … um … large Jeep you have.”
“It’s Eleanor’s. She let me borrow it so we wouldn’t have to run the whole way.”
“Where do you keep this thing?”
“We remodeled one of the outbuildings into a garage.”
Suddenly her first answer sank in.
“Wait. Run the whole way? As in, we’re still going to run part of the way?” I demanded.
She pursed her lips like she was trying not to smile. “You’re not going to run.”
I groaned. “I’m going to puke in front of your family.”
“Keep your eyes closed, you’ll be fine.”
I shook my head, sighed, then reached over and took her hand. “Hi. I missed you.”
She laughed—it was a trilling sound, not quite human. “I missed you, too. Isn’t that strange?”
“Why strange?”
“You’d think I’d have learned more patience over the last hundred years. And here I am, finding it difficult to pass an afternoon without you.”
“I’m glad it’s not just me.”
She leaned over to swiftly kiss my cheek, then pulled back quickly and sighed. “You smell even better in the rain.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
She frowned. “Always both.”
I don’t know how she even knew where we were going with the downpour—it was like a liquid gray curtain around the Jeep—but she somehow found a side road that was more or less a mountain path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because I was bouncing up and down on the seat like a jackhammer. She seemed to enjoy the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way.
And then we came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on three sides of the Jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every second, the sky brighter through the clouds.
“Sorry, Beau, we have to go on foot from here.”
“You know what? I’ll just wait here.”
“What happened to all your courage? You were extraordinary this morning.”
“I haven’t forgotten the last time yet.” Was it really
only yesterday?
She was around to my side of the car in a blur, and she started on the harness.
“I’ll get those, you go on ahead,” I protested. She was finished before I got the first few words out.
I sat in the car, looking at her.
“You don’t trust me?” she asked, hurt—or pretending to be hurt, I thought.
“That really isn’t the issue. Trust and motion sickness have zero relationship to each other.”
She looked at me for a minute, and I felt pretty stupid sitting there in the Jeep, but all I could think about was the most sickening roller-coaster ride I’d ever been on.
“Do you remember what I was saying about mind over matter?” she asked.
“Yes …”
“Maybe if you concentrated on something else.”
“Like what?”
Suddenly she was in the Jeep with me, one knee on the seat next to my leg, her hands on my shoulders. Her face was only inches away. I had a light heart attack.
“Keep breathing,” she told me.
“How?”
She smiled, and then her face was serious again. “When we’re running—and yes, that part is nonnegotiable—I want you to concentrate on this.”
Slowly, she moved in closer, turning her face to the side so that we were cheek to cheek, her lips at my ear. One of her hands slid down my chest to my waist.
“Just remember us … like this… .”
Her lips pulled softly on my earlobe, then moved slowly across my jaw and down my neck.
“Breathe, Beau,” she murmured.
I sucked in a loud lungful.
She kissed under the edge of my jaw, and then along my cheekbone. “Still worried?”
“Huh?”
She chuckled. Her hands were holding my face now, and she lightly kissed one eyelid and then the next.
“Edythe,” I breathed.
Then her lips were on mine, and they weren’t quite as gentle and cautious as they always had been before. They moved urgently, cold and unyielding, and though I knew better, I couldn’t think coherently enough to make good decisions. I didn’t consciously tell my hands to move, but my arms were wrapped around her waist, trying to pull her closer. My mouth moved with hers and I was gasping for air, gasping in her scent with every breath.
“Dammit, Beau!”
Life and Death Page 32
