"I'm staying close to home to hunt. I'll only be fifteen minutes away if you need me. I'll keep an eye out for trouble."
Translation: don't try anything funny just because Edward is gone.
Alice was certainly just as capable of crippling my truck as Edward was.
I tried to look on the bright side. After work, I had plans to help Angela with her announcements, so that would be a distraction. And Charlie was in an excellent mood due to Edward's absence, so I might as well enjoy that while it lasted. Alice would spend the night with me if I was pathetic enough to ask her to. And then tomorrow, Edward would be home. I would survive.
Not wanting to be ridiculously early for work, I ate my breakfast slowly, one Cheerio at a time. Then, when I'd washed the dishes, I arranged the magnets on the fridge into a perfect line. Maybe I was developing obsessive-compulsive disorder.
The last two magnets-round black utilitarian pieces that were my favorites because they could hold ten sheets of paper to the fridge without breaking a sweat-did not want to cooperate with my fixation. Their polarities were reversed; every time I tried to line the last one up, the other jumped out of place.
For some reason-impending mania, perhaps-this really irritated me. Why couldn't they just play nice? Stupid with stubbornness, I kept shoving them together as if I was expecting them to suddenly give up. I could have flipped one over, but that felt like losing. Finally, exasperated at myself more than the magnets, I pulled them from the fridge and held them together with two hands. It took a little effort-they were strong enough to put up a fight-but I forced them to coexist side-by-side.
"See," I said out loud-talking to inanimate objects, never a good sign-"That's not so horrible, is it?"
I stood there like an idiot for a second, not quite able to admit that I wasn't having any lasting effect against scientific principles. Then, with a sigh, I put the magnets back on the fridge, a foot apart.
"There's no need to be so inflexible," I muttered.
It was still too early, but I decided I'd better get out of the house before the inanimate objects started talking back.
When I got to Newton's, Mike was methodically dry mopping the aisles while his mom arranged a new counter display. I caught them in the middle of an argument, unaware that I had arrived.
"But it's the only time that Tyler can go," Mike complained. "You said after graduation-"
"You're just going to have to wait," Mrs. Newton snapped. "You and Tyler can think of something else to do. You are not going to Seattle until the police stop whatever it is that is going on there. I know Beth Crowley has told Tyler the same thing, so don't act like I'm the bad guy-oh, good morning, Bella," she said when she caught sight of me, brightening her tone quickly. "You're early."
Karen Newton was the last person I'd think to ask for help in an outdoor sports equipment store. Her perfectly highlighted blonde hair was always smoothed into an elegant twist on the back of her neck, her fingernails were polished by professionals, as were her toenails-visible through the strappy high heels that didn't resemble anything Newton's offered on the long row of hiking boots.
"Light traffic," I joked as I grabbed my hideous fluorescent orange vest out from under the counter. I was surprised that Mrs. Newton was as worked up about this Seattle thing as Charlie. I'd thought he was going to extremes.
"Well, er . . ." Mrs. Newton hesitated for a moment, playing uncomfortably with a stack of flyers she was arranging by the register.
I stopped with one arm in my vest. I knew that look.
When I'd let the Newtons know that I wouldn't be working here this summer-abandoning them in their busiest season, in effect-they'd started training Katie Marshall to take my place. They couldn't really afford both of us on the payroll at the same time, so when it looked like a slow day . . .
"I was going to call," Mrs. Newton continued. "I don't think we're expecting a ton of business today. Mike and I can probably handle things. I'm sorry you got up and drove out . . ."
On a normal day, I would be ecstatic with this turn of events. Today . . . not so much.
"Okay," I sighed. My shoulders slumped. What was I going to do now?
"That's not fair, Mom," Mike said. "If Bella wants to work-"
"No, it's okay, Mrs. Newton. Really, Mike. I've got finals to study for and stuff . . ." I didn't want to be a source of familial discord when they were already arguing.
"Thanks, Bella. Mike, you missed aisle four. Um, Bella, do you mind throwing these flyers in a Dumpster on the way out? I told the girl who left them here that I'd put them on the counter, but I really don't have the room."
"Sure, no problem." I put my vest away, and then tucked the flyers under my arm and headed out into the misty rain.