Page 38 of Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined (The Twilight Saga)

“B ONNIE !” C HARLIE CALLED AS SOON AS HE GOT OUT OF HIS CAR.

I turned toward the house, motioning to Jules for her to follow as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charlie greeting her loudly behind me.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you behind the wheel, young lady.”

“We get permits early on the rez,” Jules said while I unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light.

Charlie laughed. “Sure you do.”

“I have to get around somehow.” I recognized Bonnie’s deep voice easily, despite the years. The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, just 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 Jules helped Bonnie out of the car and into her 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,” Bonnie answered. “I hope it’s not a bad time.” Her dark eyes flashed up to me again, their expression unreadable.

“No, it’s great. I hope you can stay for the game.”

Jules grinned. “I think that’s the plan—our TV broke last week.”

Bonnie made a face at her daughter. “And, of course, Jules was eager to see Beau again,” she added. Jules returned the scowl.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, turning toward the kitchen. Bonnie’s searching gaze made me uncomfortable.

“Naw, we ate just before we came,” Jules answered.

“How about you, Charlie?” I called over my shoulder as I escaped around the corner.

“Sure,” he replied, his voice moving in the direction of the front room and the TV. I could hear Bonnie’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?” Jules asked.

“Pretty good.” I smiled. Her enthusiasm was hard to resist. “How about you? Did you finish your car?”

“No.” She frowned. “I still need parts. We borrowed that one.” She pointed with her thumb in the direction of the front yard.

“Sorry. I haven’t seen any . . . what was it you were looking for?”

“Master cylinder.” She grinned. “Is something wrong with the truck?” she 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 on the bottom side. “I got a ride with a friend.”

“Nice ride.” Jules’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 mom seemed to know her from somewhere.”

“Jules, could you hand me some plates? They’re in the cupboard over the sink.”

“Sure.”

She got the plates in silence. I hoped she would let it drop now.

“So who was it?” she asked, setting two plates on the counter next to me.

I sighed in defeat. “Edythe Cullen.”

To my surprise, she laughed. I glanced down at her. She looked a little embarrassed.

“Guess that explains it, then,” she said. “I wondered why my mom was acting so strange.”

I faked an innocent expression. “That’s right. She doesn’t like the Cullens.”

“Superstitious old bat,” Jules muttered under her breath.

“You don’t think she’d say anything to Charlie?” I couldn’t help asking, the words coming out in a low rush.

Jules stared at me for a minute, and I couldn’t read the expression in her dark eyes. “I doubt it,” she finally answered. “I think Charlie chewed her out pretty good last time. They haven’t spoken much since—tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don’t think she’d bring it up again.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to sound like it didn’t matter much to me either way.

I stayed in the front room after I carried the food out to Charlie, pretending to watch the game while chatting absently with Jules. Mostly I was listening to the adults’ conversation, watching for any sign that Bonnie was about to rat me out, trying to think of ways to stop her if she started.

It was a long night. I had a lot of homework that was going undone, but I was afraid to leave Bonnie alone with Charlie. Finally, the game ended.

“Are you and your friends coming back to the beach soon?” Jules asked as she pushed her mother over the lip of the threshold.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” I hedged.

“That was fun, Charlie,” Bonnie said.

“Come up for the next game,” Charlie encouraged.

“Sure, sure,” Bonnie said. “We’ll be here. Have a good night.” Her eyes shifted to mine, and her smile disappeared. “You take care, Beau,” she added seriously.

“Thanks,” I muttered, looking away.

I headed for the stairs while Charlie waved from the doorway.

“Wait, Beau,” he said.

I cringed. Had Bonnie gotten something in before I’d joined them in the living room?

But Charlie was relaxed, still grinning from the unexpected visit.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?”

“Good.” I hesitated with one foot on the first stair, trying to think of details I could safely share. “My badminton team won all four games.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could play badminton.”

“Well, actually I can’t, but my partner is really good,” I admitted.

“Who is it?” he asked with token interest.

“Um . . . McKayla Newton.”

“Oh yeah—you said you were friends with the Newton girl.” He perked up. “Nice family.” He mused for a minute. “She didn’t want to go with you to the dance this weekend?”

“Dad!” I groaned. “She’s kind of dating my friend Jeremy. Besides, you know I can’t dance.”

“Oh yeah,” he muttered. Then he smiled at me apologetically.

“So I guess it’s good you’ll be gone Saturday.

. . . I’ve made plans to go fishing with the guys from the station.

The weather’s supposed to be real warm. But if you wanted to put your trip off till someone could go with you, I’d stay home.

I know I leave you here alone too much.”

“Dad, you’re doing a great job,” I said, hoping my relief didn’t show. “I’ve never minded being alone—I’m too much like you.” I grinned at him, and he smiled his crinkly-eyed smile.

I slept better that night, too tired to dream again.

When I woke to the pearl gray morning, I felt almost high, my mood was so optimistic.

The tense evening with Bonnie and Jules seemed harmless enough now; I decided to forget it completely.

I caught myself whistling while I was yanking a comb through my hair, and later again as I hurtled down the stairs. Charlie noticed.

“You’re cheerful this morning,” he commented over breakfast.

I shrugged. “It’s Friday.”

I hurried so I would be ready to go the second Charlie left. I had my bag packed, shoes on, teeth brushed, but even though I rushed to the door as soon as I was sure Charlie would be out of sight, Edythe was faster. She was waiting, windows down, engine off.

I didn’t hesitate this time as I climbed into the passenger seat. She flourished her dimples, and my chest did its mini–heart attack thing. I couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful—human, goddess, or angel. There was nothing about her that could be improved upon.

“How did you sleep?” she asked. I wondered if she knew just how irresistible her voice was, if she made it that way on purpose.

“Fine. How was your night?”

“Pleasant.”

“Can I ask what you did?”

“No.” She grinned. “Today is still mine .”

She wanted to know about people today: more about my mom, her hobbies, what we’d done in our free time together.

And then the one grandmother I’d known, my few school friends—and then I was going red in patches when she asked about girls I’d dated.

I was relieved that I’d never really dated anyone, so that particular conversation couldn’t last long.

She seemed surprised at my lack of romantic history.

“So you never met anyone you wanted?” she asked in a serious tone that made me wonder what she was thinking about.

“Not in Phoenix.”

Her lips pressed together into a thin line.

We were in the cafeteria at this point. The day had sped by in the pattern that was rapidly becoming routine. I took advantage of her brief pause to take a bite of my sandwich.

“I should have let you drive yourself today,” she said suddenly.

I swallowed. “Why?”

“I’m leaving with Archie after lunch.”

“Oh.” I blinked, disappointed. “That’s okay, it’s not that far of a walk.”

She frowned at me impatiently. “I’m not going to make you walk home. We’ll go get your truck and leave it here for you.”

“I don’t have my key with me.” I sighed. “I really don’t mind walking.” What I minded was losing my time with her.

She shook her head. “Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition—unless you’re afraid someone might steal it.” She laughed at the thought.

“Okay,” I agreed. I was pretty sure my key was in the pocket of a pair of jeans I wore Wednesday, under a pile of clothes in the laundry room.

Even if she broke into my house, or whatever she was planning, she’d never find it.

She seemed to feel the challenge in my consent. She smirked, overconfident.

“So where are you going?” I asked as casually as I could manage.

“Hunting,” she answered grimly. “If we’re going to be alone together tomorrow, I’m going to take whatever precautions I can.” Her face was suddenly sad . . . and pleading. “You can always cancel, you know.”

I looked down, afraid of the persuasive power of her eyes. I would not let her talk me out of our day alone, no matter how real the danger might be. It doesn’t matter , I repeated in my head.

“No,” I whispered, glancing back at her face. “I can’t.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” she murmured. Her eyes almost seemed to darken in color as I watched.

I changed the subject. “What time tomorrow?” I asked, already depressed by the thought of her leaving now.

“That depends. . . . It’s a Saturday. Don’t you want to sleep in?” she offered.

“No,” I answered too fast, and she grinned.

“Same time as usual, then?”

I nodded. “Where should I pick you up?”