When Charlie spoke again, his voice was much happier. "That's a great idea, Bells. Do you have a pen?"
The directions he gave me were very simple. I assured him that I would be back for dinner, though he tried to tell me not to hurry. He wanted to join me in La Push, and I wasn't having that.
So it was with a deadline that I drove too quickly through the storm-darkened streets out of town. I hoped I could get Jacob alone. Billy would probably tell on me if he knew what I was up to.
While I drove, I worried a little bit about Billy's reaction to seeing me. He would be too pleased. In Billy's mind, no doubt, this had all worked out better than he had dared to hope. His pleasure and relief would only remind me of the one I couldn't bear to be reminded of. Not again today, I pleaded silently. I was spent.
The Blacks' house was vaguely familiar, a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn. Jacob's head peered out of the window before I could even get out of the truck. No doubt the familiar roar of the engine had tipped him off to my approach. Jacob had been very grateful when Charlie bought Billy's truck for me, saving Jacob from having to drive it when he came of age. I liked my truck very much, but Jacob seemed to consider the speed restrictions a shortcoming.
He met me halfway to the house.
"Bella!" His excited grin stretched wide across his face, the bright teeth standing in vivid contrast to the deep russet color of his skin. I'd never seen his hair out of its usual ponytail before. It fell like black satin curtains on either side of his broad face.
Jacob had grown into some of his potential in the last eight months. He'd passed that point where the soft muscles of childhood hardened into the solid, lanky build of a teenager; the tendons and veins had become prominent under the red-brown skin of his arms, his hands. His face was still sweet like I remembered it, though it had hardened, too-the planes of his cheekbones sharper, his jaw squared off, all childish roundness gone.
"Hey, Jacob!" I felt an unfamiliar surge of enthusiasm at his smile. I realized that I was pleased to see him. This knowledge surprised me.
I smiled back, and something clicked silently into place, like two corresponding puzzle pieces. I'd forgotten how much I really liked Jacob Black.
He stopped a few feet away from me, and I stared up at him in surprise, leaning my head back though the rain pelted my face.
"You grew again!" I accused in amazement.
He laughed, his smile widening impossibly. "Six five," he announced with self-satisfaction. His voice was deeper, but it had the husky tone I remembered.
"Is it ever going to stop?" I shook my head in disbelief. "You're huge."
"Still a beanpole, though." He grimaced. "Come inside! You're getting all wet."
He led the way, twisting his hair in his big hands as he walked. He pulled a rubber band from his hip pocket and wound it around the bundle.
"Hey, Dad," he called as he ducked to get through the front door. "Look who stopped by."
Billy was in the tiny square living room, a book in his hands. He set the book in his lap and wheeled himself forward when he saw me.
"Well, what do you know! It's good to see you, Bella."
We shook hands. Mine was lost in his wide grasp.
"What brings you out here? Everything okay with Charlie?"
"Yes, absolutely. I just wanted to see Jacob-I haven't seen him in forever."
Jacob's eyes brightened at my words. He was smiling so big it looked like it would hurt his cheeks.
"Can you stay for dinner?" Billy was eager, too.
"No, I've got to feed Charlie, you know."
"I'll call him now," Billy suggested. "He's always invited."
I laughed to hide my discomfort. "It's not like you'll never see me again. I promise I'll be back again soon-so much you'll get sick of me." After all, if Jacob could fix the bike, someone had to teach me how to ride it.
Billy chuckled in response. "Okay, maybe next time."
"So, Bella, what do you want to do?" Jacob asked.
"Whatever. What were you doing before I interrupted?" I was strangely comfortable here. It was familiar, but only distantly. There were no painful reminders of the recent past.
Jacob hesitated. "I was just heading out to work on my car, but we can do something else . . ."
"No, that's perfect!" I interrupted. "I'd love to see your car."
"Okay," he said, not convinced. "It's out back, in the garage."
Even better, I thought to myself. I waved at Billy. "See you later."
A thick stand of trees and shrubbery concealed his garage from the house. The garage was no more than a couple of big preformed sheds that had been bolted together with their interior walls knocked out. Under this shelter, raised on cinder blocks, was what looked to me like a completed automobile. I recognized the symbol on the grille, at least.