Petrichor ~ P.L.

Chapter Eleven

A week full of wedding preparation, sulking Jacob, and baking for the boys had passed.  I  genuinely loved getting to finalize color schemes, flower choices, and catering decisions with Emily.  Sam would sometimes be involved, but mostly was occupied by whatever he and the boys got up to.  I still had never received a clear answer.  I would ask Embry and he would say fishing, ask Jacob and he would say hunting, and Quill would often just go pale and start stuttering out an array of vague excuses. 

I had even asked Paul once, but he just shut down and told me not to worry about it.  After that, I had decided to stop asking.  With every lie they spit to me I would flush with uncomfortable heat, growing more and more frustrated with their lies. 

I had been so busy with Emily and Kim planning the wedding, I had barely noticed how tired all the boys had grown.  The pep in their step had faded, and you barely ever saw them together as a group anymore.  Two or three were always missing.  

I did my very best to ignore Paul, aware that even though all he had given me were vague answers as to why he decided to, apparently purposefully, shatter and stomp on my heart.  I was also embarrassed!  He had known how I felt about him, and not felt the same way.  Once in a while my brain would just randomly put that thought into my head and make me want to shoot myself.  

Though I remembered very clearly that he wanted nothing to do with me romantically, I couldn't help but feel myself relish in his touch when our fingers would briefly brush as he was passing me a dish, or to take an extra second to appreciate his warm brown eyes when he would look to me. 

He had said he didn't want anything, and I knew that I was painfully aware.  So I did my best to pay no attention to his lingering, almost longing gazes.  Or, the way that he would look directly to me whenever he was done with the boys, asking me how or what I was doing as soon as he got in the door.

We had fallen back into almost a friendship.  Not quite how we were, I don't think my heart could ever take that, but something adjacent.  Both of us tentative to get too close to the other. 

I put down a heaping bowl of chocolate chip cookies I had made, as Paul tiredly sauntered in the door, plopping down into a chair with an exhausted look on his face.  

"You know, I would ask what has you so exhausted, but I know you won't tell me." I sat down across from him, munching on a cookie. 

He rolled his eyes, "You'd be right." He grabbed a cookie and practically shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chomping in delight. 

I disregarded my simmering frustration, instead of turning my attention towards my notebook.  I had begun to bring the book full of scattered poems and writing prompts to Emily's since the boys seemed less up for talking the more tired they got.  I scrawled down a couple more lines to the poem I was currently working on, ignoring Paul's staring. 

"Could you like, not?" I snapped at him, not looking up from my work. 

"What are you writing about?" He questioned, taking a bite of his third cookie.

"Nothing," I lied, "It's a grocery list." 

He scoffed, "Yeah, right.  Don't even try it.  You're doing the lip thing you always do whenever you're focusing on a new poem." 

I looked up at him.  He had remembered that?  

I ignored the blush rising to my cheeks at him remembering such a small, vivid detail about me, "Yeah well," I shut the book, "You don't get to see it." 

He frowned, stopping mid-bite, "Why not?" 

"No one gets to see my poetry." I stood up, packing up my bag.  

"I do." He insisted half-eaten cookie long forgotten, his focus fully on me.

"Did," I looked up to him, shrugging on my bag, "You did." 

He frowned, looking away from me and glaring at the wall.  

I rolled my eyes and walked out the door, waving goodbye to Emily who was taking advantage of the sunny day and tending to her flowers. I jumped down the creaky wooden steps, enjoying the sound of gravel crunching under my feet as I made my way to the car, leaving Paul staring behind me with a longing frown etched on his face. 

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The following day I decided to take a break from Emily's house and the boys, growing tired of their secrecy.  

Instead, I opted to pack up some baking and go visit Charlie.  I felt kind of bad, having not seen him since he gave me the news of my parents dying.  In hindsight, I should have reached out to him more.  I wasn't the only one going through it.  What, with him having an ungrateful daughter that, according to Billy, was out of the house as much as she could be now.  

I pulled up into the white two stories driveway, sighing fondly at the memories of family dinners and football games we all would attend.  My dad, Charlie, and Billy always shouting at the TV, as I would help my mom and Sue bake up a delicious meal. 

Knocking on the door, I grinned as I heard a gravelly 'just a second,' from the other side, glad to hear his voice again. 

As he opened the door, I took in his appearance.  His brown hair was a little longer, and beard a little scruffier, but he still had his kind warm eyes.  

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of me, "Adair?" 

I smiled shyly, holding up the freshly baked batch of cookies I had brought, "Hi Charlie." 

He immediately sprang into action, practically jumping forward and pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.  He rested his head on my hair, sighing in content. 

"I've missed you kid." He muttered. 

I returned his bear hug, wrapping my arms around him.  He wasn't an especially affectionate guy, so it took me off guard how eagerly and tightly he hugged me. 

"I've missed you too." I smiled against his shoulder. 

He pulled back, rubbing his palms on his pants almost nervously, "Come in, come in!  Sorry its kind of a mess..." 

I laughed and stepped in after him, shutting the door behind me, "You're fine old man.  Cookie?" 

He glared playfully, his face lighting up at the mention of my cookies, "One of yours? Always."  He grinned cheekily and took the container from me, thanking me in the process. 

We quickly fell back into the swing of things, both sitting down on the couch and munching away on the pastries.  He had asked me about my time in school, and living with Billy, hanging onto every word as I filled him in on the past year of my life.  

"How have you been?" I questioned him, taking a sip of the coke he had offered me. 

"Oh, you know, not too bad," I raised my eyebrow at him, not believing him, "Things have been a bit um, hectic with Bella and that boyfriend of hers, but I'm fine." 

I frowned, suppressing the rage in me at the thought of Bella treating Charlie so poorly.  Charlie is a gem of a man and father, and she is more than lucky to have him. 

"You know," I looked up to him from my pop, "You're doing a great job." 

He chuckled slightly, "Doesn't feel like it kid to be honest with you." 

I shook my head, "I can tell you, with one hundred percent certainty that you are an amazing father.  If Bella won't tell you how amazing of a job you are doing, I will." 

His eyes glazed with tears, my words having struck a nerve in him, but obviously relieving him slightly from his deep insecurities about being a good father, "You really think so kid?" 

I nodded, with a hundred percent certainty. 

"I know so."