Twilight (The Twilight Saga #1)(61)
The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us.
"Charlie's around the corner," he warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle.
I hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it glanced off my jacket.
I tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but it was too dark. I could see Edward illuminated in the glare of the new car's headlights; he was still staring ahead, his gaze locked on something or someone I couldn't see. His expression was a strange mix of frustration and defiance.
Then he revved the engine, and the tires squealed against the wet pavement. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds.
"Hey, Bella," called a familiar, husky voice from the driver's side of the little black car.
"Jacob?" I asked, squinting through the rain. Just then, Charlie's cruiser swung around the corner, his lights shining on the occupants of the car in front of me.
Jacob was already climbing out, his wide grin visible even through the darkness. In the passenger seat was a much older man, a heavyset man with a memorable face — a face that overflowed, the cheeks resting against his shoulders, with creases running through the russet skin like an old leather jacket. And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that seemed at the same time both too young and too ancient for the broad face they were set in. Jacob’s father, Billy Black. I knew him immediately, though in the more than five years since I'd seen him last I'd managed to forget his name when Charlie had spoken of him my first day here. He was staring at me, scrutinizing my face, so I smiled tentatively at him. His eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, his nostrils flared. My smile faded.
Another complication, Edward had said.
Billy still stared at me with intense, anxious eyes. I groaned internally. Had Billy recognized Edward so easily? Could he really believe the impossible legends his son had scoffed at?
The answer was clear in Billy's eyes. Yes. Yes, he could.
12. Balancing
"Billy!" Charlie called as soon as he got out of the car.
I turned toward the house, beckoning to Jacob as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charlie greeting them loudly behind me.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't see you behind the wheel, Jake," he said disapprovingly.
"We get permits early on the razz," Jacob said while I unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light.
"Sure you do," Charlie laughed.
"I have to get around somehow." I recognized Billy's resonant voice easily, despite the years. The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, a child.
I went inside, leaving the door open behind me and turning on lights before I hung up my jacket. Then I stood in the door, watching anxiously as Charlie and Jacob helped Billy out of the car and into his wheelchair.
I backed out of the way as the three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain.
"This is a surprise," Charlie was saying.
"It's been too long," Billy answered. "I hope it's not a bad time." His dark eyes flashed up to me again, their expression unreadable.
"No, it's great. I hope you can stay for the game."
Jacob grinned. "I think that's the plan — our TV broke last week."
Billy made a face at his son. "And, of course, Jacob was anxious to see Bella again," he added. Jacob scowled and ducked his head while I fought back a surge of remorse.
Maybe I'd been too convincing on the beach.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, turning toward the kitchen. I was eager to escape Billy's searching gaze.
"Naw, we ate just before we came," Jacob answered.
"How about you, Charlie?" I called over my shoulder as I fled around the corner.
"Sure," he replied, his voice moving in the direction of the front room and the TV. I could hear Billy's chair follow.
The grilled cheese sandwiches were in the frying pan and I was slicing up a tomato when I sensed someone behind me.
"So, how are things?" Jacob asked.
"Pretty good." I smiled. His enthusiasm was hard to resist. "How about you? Did you finish your car?"
"No." He frowned. "I still need parts. We borrowed that one." He pointed with his thumb in the direction of the front yard.
"Sorry. I haven't seen any… what was it you were looking for?"
"Master cylinder." He grinned. "Is something wrong with the truck?" he added suddenly.
"No."
"Oh. I just wondered because you weren't driving it."
I stared down at the pan, pulling up the edge of a sandwich to check the bottom side. "I got a ride with a friend."
"Nice ride." Jacob's voice was admiring. "I didn't recognize the driver, though. I thought I knew most of the kids around here."
I nodded noncommittally, keeping my eyes down as I flipped sandwiches.
"My dad seemed to know him from somewhere."
"Jacob, could you hand me some plates? They're in the cupboard over the sink."
"Sure."
He got the plates in silence. I hoped he would let it drop now.
"So who was it?" he asked, setting two plates on the counter next to me.