Puppies and Promises

Chapter 5: Chauffeur Service

Chapter 5: Chauffeur Service

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. . . . .

Friday brought the mail, and the documents from the lawyer were included as promised. What a relief. Now I could get on with my life. But then, I asked myself, What about Jacob's life? I started to feel guilty for being such a coward. He had no idea I had ended my marriage. It was up to me to lay out my cards.

I thought about what Rosalie said. In fact, it was all I could think about, and so when Dad showed up at the apartment the following day to invite me to go with him to the Black's I went willingly.

. . . . .

Billy seemed glad to see us. He hugged me, and kissed my cheek, like I was his long lost daughter or something. "Welcome back to La Push, Bella."

Glancing at my dad, he said, "Charlie, here, gave me the news. I'm sorry your marriage ended that way, but it was probably for the best, eh?" He gave me an all-knowing, penetrating gaze. I hoped that Dad didn't catch it.

I stood in his line of vision awkwardly, with my hands in my coat pockets, looking at the familiar surroundings. Finally, I then pressed Billy for Jacob's whereabouts. "Is Jake here?"

"Sorry ... no. My son's out with the boys this afternoon. He is going to be so upset when he finds out he missed your visit."

He gestured with his hands. "Well, where are my manners? You two want something to drink or snack on? Help yourself. You know where the fridge is, and the table ware."

"I'll get it. Billy, you want something too?"

"Sure, sure. You can get me and your old man some coffee. There's still some in the pot."

Charlie laughed. "You better make some fresh, kiddo. That's not coffee in there; it's probably mud by now."

. . . . .

Dad was right. I had to practically scrape the thick, brown gunk out of the coffee pot. It took a while to clean it up and start from scratch. I poured the freshly brewed java into two mismatched mugs, and filled a glass with orange juice for me. After serving the drinks to Billy and Dad, I excused myself and went outside, feeling empty.

I sat on the porch awhile, finishing my juice, then placing the drained glass on the stoop, I wandered to the Taj, reminiscing about lighter, sunnier days, with Jacob laughing and joking by my side. What I wouldn't give to turn back time. What a mess I'd made of both of our lives. How could one person be so naïve and stupid? Jacob tried to warn me, but did I listen? No, I thought I was in love with the perfect man. Well, he wasn't so perfect was he?

I wished that my Jacob was here with me right now, so I could open my heart to him, and confess how right he was. That ... and tell him that he was right about something else too. I did have feelings for him then, and still did today.

Walking around the inside of the garage, I passed my hands over his tools, and auto parts. When I got to the back wall, I saw it—a photo of Jacob and me taken last Christmas. It was nailed in place, with a sprig of dried, dusty mistletoe, hanging above it. He had written across the bottom in his untidy scrawl, My Bells, the love of my life.

Backing away, my eyes misted up, and I couldn't see where I was going. I tripped over something on the dirt floor, and scrambled to get out of there before I fell apart entirely. When I emerged, I bent over, taking several big gulps of air, in an attempt to compose myself. With some semblance of control, I walked aimlessly along the tree-line until my dad stuck his head out the back door, beckoning me to come inside.