Friday, October 21, 2005
(Mike)
I arrived late at the Clearwater house.
The porch light was already on, casting a warm yellow glow over the worn wooden steps. I shut off the engine and sat there for a second longer than necessary, listening to it tick as it cooled. Laughter drifted faintly from somewhere inside, mixed with the low murmur of a television.
Baseball, if I had to guess.
I climbed out, shut the door quietly, and let myself in.
The familiar smell hit me right away. Wood smoke, fried onions, something savory simmering on the stove. The Clearwater house always smelled like food and people, like life was actually happening inside it.
Harry Clearwater was stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, a beer in his hand. The TV was on just loud enough to hear the announcer calling plays. He glanced over when I came in.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up," he said, eyes never leaving the screen.
"Sorry," I said. "Ran late."
He snorted. "You always do these days."
I stepped further inside. "Hey, Harry."
He lifted his beer in acknowledgment and took a long sip, clearly invested in whatever was happening on the field.
From the kitchen came the sound of pots clanking and Sue's voice humming under her breath. I leaned against the doorway.
"Hey, Sue."
She turned, smiling immediately when she saw me. Her hands were dusted with flour, apron already smudged from use.
"Mike," she said warmly. "You're just in time. Dinner's almost ready."
"Smells great," I said, and I meant it.
She nodded, then studied my face a little more closely, her smile softening. Sue had a way of doing that. Of actually looking at people.
"How's Bella doing?" she asked gently.
I sighed before I could stop myself.
That alone was answer enough.
Sue's expression tightened with concern. She turned back to the stove, stirring slowly.
"Still not great," I admitted. "She barely eats. Lost more weight again. Charlie doesn't know what to do anymore."
Harry let out a grunt from the couch. "Hmph."
Before either Sue or I could say anything else, footsteps thudded down the stairs.
Leah appeared, arms crossed, her expression already sharp.
"It's been a month since the Cullens left," she said flatly. "She needs to stop acting like the world ended."
I glanced at her. "Leah."
"No," she said, cutting me off. "I'm serious. Everyone keeps tiptoeing around her like she's made of glass. That doesn't help."
Harry raised his beer slightly. "Good riddance, if you ask me."
He took another sip, eyes still glued to the game.
Sue frowned. "Harry."
"What?" he said. "I never liked them. Weird kids. Whole family gave me the creeps."
Sue turned back to me, hesitation flickering across her face.
"Mike," she said carefully, "I know she's your friend. And I know you're worried. But Leah might have a point."
Leah's eyebrows lifted, surprised but pleased.
Sue continued, "You can't spend all your free time with her just because she's heartbroken. If you keep hovering, she might never push herself to move on. Sometimes people need space to figure things out."
The words stung, even though I knew she wasn't trying to be cruel.
"I'm not hovering," I said, though it came out weaker than I intended. "I just… I don't want her to be alone."
Leah scoffed. "She's always alone. That's kind of her thing."
I shot her a look. "That's not fair."
She shrugged. "It's not wrong either."
Before I could respond, another door creaked open upstairs.
Seth bounded down the steps two at a time, hair messy, t-shirt wrinkled, energy completely oblivious to the tension thick in the air.
"What's for dinner?" he asked cheerfully.
Sue let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Roast chicken and potatoes."
"Yes," Seth said, pumping a fist. Then he finally noticed me. "Oh hey, Mike! When did you get here?"
"Couple minutes ago," I said.
He grinned like nothing in the world was wrong. "Awesome. You staying for dinner?"
"Yeah," I said. "If that's okay."
"Always," Sue said immediately.
Seth plopped down onto the arm of the couch near Harry, peering at the TV. "Who's winning?"
Harry muttered something about bad calls and lousy umpires.
Just like that, the atmosphere shifted. Not gone, but lighter. Trust Seth to bulldoze straight through emotional landmines without even realizing they were there.
I leaned back against the wall, folding my arms.
Sue went back to cooking. Harry focused on the game. Leah stalked off toward the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Seth started asking Harry questions about baseball that Harry pretended to be annoyed by but answered anyway.
And me.
I stood there, thinking about Bella. About the hollow look in her eyes lately. About how empty her house felt even when I was sitting right next to her.
Maybe Sue was right.
Maybe Leah was right too, as much as I hated to admit it.
But the idea of stepping back, of leaving Bella alone with all that pain, made my chest tighten.
I wasn't sure what the right move was anymore.
I just knew that whatever Edward had set in motion, it wasn't done ruining people yet.
And somehow, I had a feeling it was going to get worse before it got better.
…
The next morning, I woke up tangled in unfamiliar sheets that smelled like laundry soap and salt air.
For half a second, I didn't know where I was.
Then I felt the warmth beside me.
Leah lay on her side, back to me, dark hair spilled across the pillow, one arm tucked beneath it. The early morning light filtered in through the window, pale and gray, painting soft lines across her shoulder and the curve of her back. She was still asleep, breathing slow and even, face relaxed in a way I didn't get to see very often.
Careful not to wake her, I slid out of bed.
The floor was cold under my feet. I shrugged it off and kept moving, gathering my clothes from where they had been dropped the night before. I shut the bathroom door quietly behind me and turned on the sink, splashing cold water on my face.
The mirror showed me someone who looked more tired than he should have been. Dark circles under my eyes. Jaw tight with thoughts I hadn't shaken even in sleep.
Bella. Edward. Forks. All of it.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face properly this time, letting the water wake me up fully. When I was done, I returned to the bedroom and changed into clean clothes, pulling on my jacket and running a hand through my hair to make myself look at least somewhat presentable.
When I was finished, Leah started stirring.
She rolled onto her back, blinking slowly, then turned her head toward me. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they focused.
"You're up early," she said, voice rough with sleep.
"Couldn't stay asleep," I replied.
She propped herself up on one elbow, sheet sliding down just enough that I politely looked anywhere but there, which in turn made her smirk and show even more skin. "Where are you going?"
I hesitated, just long enough for her to notice.
"Bella's," I said.
Her expression shifted immediately. The sleepiness vanished, replaced by something sharper.
"What did we talk about yesterday?" she asked.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "I know. I know."
She waited, eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed.
"But I want to try one last thing," I continued. "Just once. I'm going to drag her out whether she wants it or not. Get her out of the house. Force her to do something different."
Leah studied my face, searching for something.
"And if that doesn't work?" she asked.
I met her gaze. "Then I'll follow your approach. I'll give her space."
She exhaled slowly and flopped back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
"Damn it," she muttered.
For a moment, I thought she was going to argue. Instead, she rolled onto her side again and looked back at me.
"All right," she said. "One last try."
Relief loosened something in my chest.
"But," she added, pointing a finger at me, "you come back for dinner."
I smiled softly. "You know I'll always come back to you."
Her eyes softened despite herself. Just for a second.
Then she grabbed a pillow and hurled it at my head.
"So corny," she said.
I caught it easily, laughing, and walked back over to the bed. I set the pillow gently beside her and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
"Wish me luck," I said.
She snorted. "Yeah, I won't do that. You know luck has a personal vendetta against you."
I chuckled. "Yeah. It really does."
She smirked faintly and waved me off with a lazy flick of her hand. "Go. Before I change my mind."
I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, her presence lingering behind me like warmth I didn't want to leave.
As I stepped outside into the cool morning, the air damp and heavy with mist, I took a deep breath.
One last try.
For Bella. And for my own peace of mind.
…
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