Midnight Skies - Part 8
Type: Fanfiction
World: Twilight
Status: Multi-Chapter
Title: Midnight Skies
Rating: M
Genre: Drama, Romance
Pairing: Jacob & Bella
Summary: Jacob and Bella are unsatisfied and frustrated with where they are in their lives. When these two strangers meet, they are forced to realize that what they are longing for in their own lives might only be found in each other’s.
start from the beginning
8.
My heart beat in a frenzy as I stood in front of my mirror, gazing at my reflection - my face tinted with a slight rose blush of anticipation and my hair fell loosely and in soft waves around my shoulders.
Everything was ready - dinner, dessert cooling on my bedroom windowsill, my apartment tidied up, table finished, some candles lit to give the small place a cozy and homey atmosphere, and everything sharp and potentially dangerous banned into drawers and cabinets.
It was five minutes after six, and although Jacob had warned me that the kids might delay his arrival, I was getting even edgier with each passing second. My slightly trembling hand stroked across my flimsy patterned blouse - something I had bought on a trip to Florida a few years ago and had never worn since then. Maybe it had just been waiting for this moment.
Deciding that another sprinkle of perfume couldn't do any harm, I dwelled in the soft, bloomy scent and jumped a little when the door bell rang. I had hated the shrill sound of it from the very first day.
Inhaling deeply, I stepped out of my bathroom, straightening myself before opening the door to my apartment with what I hoped to be a warm and welcoming smile.
Jacob stood there with his bright, sunny smile on his face, a bouquet of red marguerites in his hand, Finley and Isla standing in front of him. They were both slightly nervous-looking.
"Hello," I said, smiling down at the kids to ease their nervousness, and Finley immediately snapped out of his unease, enveloping my legs in one of his tight bear hugs.
"Good evening, Bella," he said very formally, grinning up at me.
"Hey, Finley. Hey, Isla," I said carefully. I knew that Isla was not as open and easy-going as her brother, but her genuine and shy smile let me know she was not going to turn on her heels and run away.
"Hey," I finally said, a little out of breath, to Jacob whose eyes were fixed on Finley wrapped around my legs.
"Hey," he then answered, stepping closer and hugging me shortly, ignoring the fact that his son was still between us.
"Come in," I said. Finley let go of me and jumped eagerly into my apartment.
"You can put your jackets on those hooks there," I explained, pointing to the scarce coat hooks my apartment had to offer.
While the kids dropped their backpacks into a corner and fumbled with their zippers, I closed the door and turned to Jacob who was still looking at me.
"These are for you," he said almost shyly, holding out the bright bouquet. "Isla picked them," he added quietly, and I laughed.
"Thank you, they're beautiful." I took them out of his hands, our skin touching for a second, and I realized how much I already missed the feel of his skin.
Two things stopped me from putting the flowers into a vase then. First, I could not help but stare a little as Jacob took off his leather jacket, my bottom lip immediately wandering between my teeth. Second, I felt something picking at the hem of my shirt, and I turned around to see Isla standing behind me, her eyes filled with something that reminded me of fear.
"I made this for you," she almost whispered, holding up a folded piece of paper. Knowing that my size must scare her even more than the fact that she barely knew me, I knelt down and took the paper from her tiny hands.
"Thank you so much," I said with a wide smile as I unfolded the paper. It was a picture of a sunny summer day at the beach, and it was obvious that Isla was very fond of using colours.
She seemed relieved as I thanked her and carefully brushed my hand against her head, letting my fingers run through her dark hair.
"I have one, too!" Finley squeaked and Isla rolled her eyes - apparently something she did frequently around her brother. Finley, being braver and not as quiet as his sister, jumped around my throat, almost knocking me on my back. I squealed and caught my balance just in time.
"This is you," he said proudly as I eyed the picture - a rather squeezed and unhappy-looking version of myself grimacing at me from the paper.
"Thank you, Finley," I said. I was feeling bolder with him, and so I lightly kissed him on his cheek. He blushed adorably.
"You two look so great tonight," I said, unable to suppress the fuzzy feeling that washed over me at the sight of the two. Isla in her blue skirt, white, knitted jacket with bright butterflies and ladybugs embroidered on it, and Finley in his red-striped shirt, looking like a little gentleman.
"I couldn't keep them from dressing up," Jacob laughed next to us sitting on the floor. I grinned up at him.
Realizing that I still had the flowers in my hand, I quickly dropped them on a counter, wanting to show my guests around before putting them in a vase.
"So, it's really not big but… enough for me. Ehm.. Here is the bathroom, just in case," I said, pointing at the door closest to us before stepping further into the apartment, Jacob and the kids following me.
"Well, kitchen and living room. My bedroom is behind that door. That's really about it," I said with a smile, almost a little embarrassed by how tiny everything was.
"So many pictures!" Isla said with her quiet and thoughtful voice, staring at my brick wall full of memories.
"Yes. And do you know what? Yours are going there right now," I said, walking over to the wall and pinning the two pictures they had given me between the wall and two picture frames.
Both of their faces shone with joy as I turned around.
"Actually, you could sit down already. Dinner should be finished any minute now," I said, pointing towards my dining table. Both Finley and Isla immediately jumped in the direction of the table. However, they did not sit down, but rather stared out of the large window while mumbling and chattering.
"Anything I can help you with?" Jacob asked politely.
"No, it's fine. It's all finished. Just sit down; I'll be with you in a second."
He nodded, and I rushed past him, the feeling of having him here in my home so surreal that I needed a minute for myself.
Filling a glass vase with water, I put the beautiful flowers in it, my face burying inside the bouquet for a second, inhaling the delicate scent and admiring the soft touch of the petals against my cheeks.
As I put the lasagne on four plates, I heard Jacob explaining several sights outside to his children. The entire time I could not help but smile to myself, and I almost burned myself with the hot pan in the process.
"What do you want to drink?" I asked as I put the flowers in the middle of the table and rushed the few steps back into the kitchen to get the plates. I put them on the table while Jacob pushed Finley's and Isla's chairs closer.
"Orange juice!" Finley squeaked excitedly, almost falling off his chair due to his flourishing movements.
"Finley," Jacob said with authority in his voice as he sat down next to the empty chair that would be mine.
"Sorry, Dad," Finley said, his body stilling immediately and his blush from earlier returning.
"Orange juice, please."
"I want the same, please," Isla said, playfully nudging her brother with her elbow.
"Could you mix it with water? They always get a stomach ache from drinking it pure," Jacob explained.
"Of course. What would you like?"
"Water should be fine."
"Sure?"
"Yep."
"Lasagne!" I heard Finley squeak again as he obviously realized what we would be having for dinner.
I returned with the glasses and sat down, feeling slightly tense next to Jacob but not necessarily in a bad way. I felt warm and comfortable around him. It was some kind of expectant anxiety which made me shiver every few minutes.
"Enjoy your meal!" I said, seeing how impatient Finley and Isla already were and with a mumbled Thank you they dug into their food.
"Thank you," Jacob repeated, directing it at me and I blushed a little when we looked into each other's eyes. "It smells fantastic."
"Thank you," I said, smiling gratefully before taking my fork and tasting what I thought to be the best lasagne I had ever made.
We ate in silence except for Jacob occasionally reminding his children to sit straighter or to stop eating like a caveman. Ours gazes met a few times, and I felt more and more comfortable and at ease, the entire situation effortless and as easy as a sunny afternoon at the beach.
"That was soooo good," Finley said as he finished, leaning back in his chair and theatrically rubbing his belly.
"Thank you, I'm glad you liked it," I said, finished myself and taking a sip of my cherry juice.
"Daddy can't cook lasagne," Isla said. Jacob put on a mock pout which looked ridiculously hilarious.
"Do you still copy, Bella?" Finley asked completely off topic, but I welcomed his erratic thoughts, and I laughed.
"You left quite an impression on him. He wants to do the same thing you do when he is big," Jacob said wisely, and I grinned.
"Yes, I still copy," I admitted. "But that's not all I do."
"What else?"
"Well, I file. That means I put many many papers in a certain order and put them into something called an archive. That's a room with hundreds of those papers. And I have to talk to many people on the telephone."
"Do you have pets?"
This boy was fantastic. He could jump from one topic to the other without effort and always with the purest expression of curiosity in his eyes. It was so different from the conversations I was used to - with the exception of my mother, maybe, who still had the ability to speak of things with the enthusiasm of a child. It made me feel sad that most adults lose that capability with age. Thinking about it, it was a horrible price to pay.
"No, I'm not allowed to have pets in here," I explained, swirling my hand through the air.
"Daddy says we're not allowed, too," Finley said, his lips forming a pout again, and he looked to his father, who was smirking.
"Yes, that's what I say." It was obvious that there was no discussion allowed on this topic, either.
"What would you like to have?" I asked, beginning to pile the empty plates.
"Puppy!" Finley squealed in excitement, once again almost falling out of his chair. Isla grabbed her brother's arm to steady him. "And I would call him Cookie. And he will be thiiis big," he continued, ignoring his momentary loss of balance, raising his arms to show how big of a dog he wanted. "He would sleep in my bed, and we would play football all day."
I stood up with the plates in my hand, grinning at Jacob who rolled his eyes at his son's very vivid plans for the future.
"Let me help you with that," he said, pushing back his chair to help me. I raised my free hand.
"No, you stay here. I'll get…" I turned back to Finley and Isla who were looking at me curiously after I had paused mid-sentence.
"The dessert," I finished. Seeing the sparkle in the children's eyes was one of those priceless moments in life.
"What dessert?" Finley asked, his voice and body tense with anticipation.
"Surprise," I said with a wink and brought the empty plates to the sink, placing them there before going to my bedroom. A strange feeling of anticipation was running through myself. It was the same sensation I often had on someone's birthday, eager for them to finally unwrap their presents.
Taking the jello from the windowsill and removing the plastic wrap, I went back into the living room, Jacob smiling at me with a twinkle in his eyes while Finley and Isla practically jumped in their chair.
"Jello!" they both yelled excitedly and I placed it before them, quickly getting the vanilla sauce out of the fridge. The two of them started eating quicker than I could sit down again Jacob was about to say something, but I shook my head, indicating it was okay.
Already pretty full from the lasagne and not too fond of jello, I only ate a small portion, admiring how eager Finley and Isla munched their plates.
"I think it's enough now," Jacob said after they had finished their second portion, him and me long finished and only busy with looking at them.
"Daddy!" Finley cried, but Jacob shook his head with a serious face, and Finley dropped his spoon in defeat.
"You know, I can put the rest in a box and you can take it home with you so you can have the rest tomorrow," I said, looking rather at Jacob than the children, seeking approval. He grinned, and the children were lost in a rush of thank you´s and excited squeals.
"What time is it?" Isla asked when their voices had calmed down and Jacob checked his watch.
"Seven thirty."
Isla's face fell a little, and I felt bad all of a sudden, sensing that they were missing out on something because they were here.
"What is it?" I asked Jacob.
"They're allowed to watch TV on weekends. And Babe started fifteen minutes ago," he explained, his eyes trying to tell me that it was no big deal.
"If it's okay with you, they could watch it - I do have a TV," I said laughing. At my words, I could see Finley and Isla tensing again, waiting for their father's decision.
"That would be okay?"
"Sure," I said and stood up, scanning my couch for the remote.
"Here," I said, handing it to Jacob. "I'll clean up."
Finley now did fall from his chair in excitement but before either of us could check on him, he was on his small feet again, acting as if nothing had happened, apparently doing some kind of happy dance in my living room. Isla smiled brightly at me as I collected the plates and carried them to the kitchen, dropping them next to the rest of the dishes by the sink.
Rummaging my cabinets for a box, I found a turquoise-colored one, dumping the debris of jello into it. Jacob put his children on my couch, taking off their shoes, telling them not to make a mess and I laughed. His children behaved so well, and the manners they had were more than I expected from a four year old, yet he still admonished them.
Plunging the plug into my sink I let the water start to run, my fingers carefully sticking underneath the jet of water testing the temperature, enjoying the lukewarm liquid enveloping my fingers. I turned my head when the sound of the TV set in and watched Finley zapping through the channels proudly. The remote was almost as long as his forearm. Jacob cleaned the corner of Isla's mouth with a tissue - under erratic protest from her side.
Smiling, I turned back towards my task, dropping some of my lily-scented dish liquid into the slowly rising water. I started to carefully drop the dishes into the water.
"I found it!" Finley called victoriously, and I heard Jacob chuckling.
"Sshh!" Isla hissed. Soon the only sounds to hear were those coming from the television, the soft splashing of the water in the sink and shuffling on the couch, one of the kids - most likely Finley - obviously not very satisfied with the sitting position.
Suddenly, a very warm hand pressed against my lower back, the warmth radiating from there immediately causing me to shiver slightly. When another hand gently pulled my hair away from my neck, placing it across my other shoulder, fingertips feathering against my sensitive neck like a butterfly, I let my eyelids fall closed. I breathed deeply.
"Are you sure you don't want help here?" Jacob whispered, his close proximity to me allowed his warm breath to fan across my skin, letting the flimsy hairs stand straight again.
His fingers started to brush against my back, the tender touch leaving swirls of warmth on my covered skin.
"You could help me dry these," I managed to say, my voice whispery and quiet, while my hands nervously waved towards the pile of dripping, foamy dishes.
"Okay," he whispered, the back of his free hand gently brushing against my cheek before he let go of me entirely. I missed his touch immediately. Being close to him, the warmth and the electrifying tingle that he caused in me, and yet the ease and joy everything ignited in me, was something I had never noticed I missed, but now that I did, I never wanted it to stop.
I handed him a dishtowel, our fingers brushing shortly once again, both of us looking down at them before our eyes met, the sparkle in Jacob's burning in my heart.
Wordlessly, we started our work, the only sound was once again the TV, the water splashing and Finley's bumpy shuffling behind us. Never before had I met a person with whom I could be in silence like this. Normally, silence scared me, the noise it caused in my ears, the dull drumming of my heart, the pressure on my temples, the unease. With Jacob, silence was easy and light, both of us enjoying each other's company without words necessary to keep us entertained.
The only thing that bothered me were the many questions that lingered on my tongue, the urge to really get to know this man - questions I could not ask just now, that were inappropriate or rash. But even worse than the lingering questions was the urge to be closer to him, being deprived of physical contact for way too long, the shivers a simple touch could elicit waking up parts of myself I had long forgotten and buried.
"Why don't you have a dishwasher?" Jacob asked after we quickly finished our work.
"I had all the money saved for it, but then my car broke, and I needed to fix that first," I said, remembering my fury back then.
"Next time you have problems with your car you can just call me," he said, and I looked at him rather confused, vaguely fearing one of those manly outburst about cars.
"I'm a mechanic," he added. I understood and laughed at my feather-brained reaction.
I opened the cabinet door for the plates and jumped a little, pushing myself up to sit on the counter, one by one piling the plates back into their places. Jacob started laughing at me sitting on the counter like a child, but I just grinned at him. After the last plate landed in the cabinet with a rather loud clang, Jacob stepped in front of me so my knees touched his stomach.
I nervously looked over his shoulder towards the couch were Isla and Finely sat, both of their eyes practically glued to the TV screen, their mouth gaping open, the wheels behind their foreheads working on overdrive. Tearing my eyes away from them, I looked back at Jacob and then switched momentarily back to them before finally focussing on him entirely.
"It's okay," he whispered, his fingers gently trailing across my cheekbone and pushing some of my wavy strands behind my ear, all the while smiling at me.
"I like your hair better this way," he said, and I smiled, another blush tinting my already burning cheeks.
We stared at each other. Jacob's hand lingered around my ear, the warmth from his skin sucking into my every pore, every muscle in my body tense from the anticipation for something I knew would not come. Not tonight.
Jacob apparently realized the same thing. He sighed quietly in frustration and dropped his hand, letting it brush my knee before he stepped aside to lean his back against the counter next to me.
"So, what exactly do you do for that magazine?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. I knew he dreaded this as much as I did - although I had to admit I was thankful that Finely and Isla were nearby, keeping me from taking steps that might lead me into an abyss I was not ready to fall into. Not yet. Maybe never again.
"Well, I'm the assistant of the editor-in-chief's assistant," I said, making it sound especially important with mock enthusiasm.
"Sounds like the most important position to be in," Jacob laughed with that irresistible boyish grin, making my heart flutter in delight.
"Yeah, absolutely," I said, sighing. "I really do copy all day long, call people and lie to them about why the editor won't talk to them now, filing stuff, walking around all day and the most important and responsible task: occasionally - or not so occasionally - getting my boss stuff from the cafeteria and therefore having to sacrifice my own lunch break," I continued in a rush, glad to finally have released some of the steam my work had boiled inside of me all this time.
"Couldn't you find another job?"
"I'm not really…a very risk-taking person, you know?" I laughed without humour, looking down at my feet dangling in the air.
"That couldn't have been your dream job then, could it?"
I snorted at that rhetorical question and shook my head.
"Then what is?"
Looking up again, I saw the honest curiosity and interest in Jacob's eyes, and it made me feel more self-confident and happier to see that he really cared about this and wanted to know more, wanted to get to know me as much as I wanted to get to know him.
"I majored in English literature. I always wanted to write."
"About what?"
"Things that matter. Not the newest diet or handbags or nail polish or the top five pro's and con's to falling in love with your best friend. Although I don't even get to write about that now. All I ever write is post-its for my boss," I said with sadness in my voice, the longing for my long lost dream as fresh as the air streaming through an opened window.
I sighed, feeling bad for dragging the mood down, but the next second I felt Jacob's hand back on my knee, his thumb stroking against the denim of my jeans. I looked up to see him smile reassuringly at me, trying to encourage me.
"And you? You said you're a mechanic?" I asked, trying to sound as calm and at ease as possible. But lying had never been a gift of mine. A flaw that had gotten in my way far too many times in my life
"Yes," he said, obviously not buying my sudden change of mood but cooperating nonetheless. "But there's not really much to tell," he said laughing. "I have a garage right by my house which is good. I don't have to go far, and it's easier to take breaks to drive the kids places, you know?"
"It's your own garage?" I asked, not really having expected that.
"Yes," he answered proudly. "And it's the only garage around where I live, so business is well. At least, good enough for a living."
The conversation went easier after my initial low mood, and we spent the next hour in my kitchen talking about everything that came into our minds. My need to get to know Jacob was easing during this hour, and I felt more and more comfortable around him.
He was originally from a Quileute reservation in Washington and had two older sisters, Rachel and Rebecca, who were twins. He was indeed obsessed with cars - not just because of his profession - but had rebuilt the Rabbit he drove as a teenager. He loved cheaply produced horror movies, because he thought they were hilarious. Growing up in the rainiest area of the States had created an affection for damp and rainy weather in him. He also loved beaches and the sea, woods and hiking, cliff diving and thunderstorms. His favorite color was brown, and he said that he liked his soda warm instead of the usual ice-cold.
I could have listened to his voice for the rest of my life; the deep, husky tone such a pleasure to listen to - almost like a lullaby. I started to think of his interest in me - which I had adored so much earlier - as strangely annoying to some extent, because it meant that he was quiet, and I had to talk. But I willingly answered all his questions. We ended up in a heated discussion about climate change when Babe ended, and Finley and Isla came jumping into the kitchen babbling about the movie without a pause.
Jacob threw an apologetic look at me, but I only smiled and silently let him know that it was no problem. I was attentively listening to a summary of a movie I had seen countless times before, the entire thing sounding so much different from a child's perspective, and I admired how deep Isla and Finley already grasped the meaning of certain things.
Half an hour later, and under much protest from Finley and Isla, I watched my guests get dressed. Hoping to calm them down a little, I handed Isla the box with the jello, and both of them fell silent, thanking me and eyeing the box like starving lions.
I patted the top of their heads, Finley once again wrapping his arms around me like tentacles. When he let go of me, I turned to face Jacob, dressed in his leather jacket. I was close to protesting like the children - I did not want him to leave. Ever.
Jacob smiled before chastely wrapping his arms around me in a friendly hug. However, on our side turning away from the children - who were busier with their jello than with us - he brushed the tip of his nose against my earlobe.
"Can I call you later?" he whispered, the warm breath against my ear sending a tingle throughout my entire neck. I only managed to nod, longing to pull him back to me when he retreated with another warm and caring smile.
"Goodbye," he said, grabbing his children's backpacks.
I opened the door and managed to press out a very weak goodbye, waving as Isla and Finley jumped through the hallway outside my apartment, Jacob having to grab Finley rather roughly by his arm as he threatened to just jump down the stairs.
Closing the door, I could hear their faint chatter for another minute before the entire house was enveloped in silence, making me feel uncomfortable again.
For the first time since I moved in here, I began to feel alone. In my own home.
Something was already missing.
continue with part 9
World: Twilight
Status: Multi-Chapter
Title: Midnight Skies
Rating: M
Genre: Drama, Romance
Pairing: Jacob & Bella
Summary: Jacob and Bella are unsatisfied and frustrated with where they are in their lives. When these two strangers meet, they are forced to realize that what they are longing for in their own lives might only be found in each other’s.
start from the beginning
8.
My heart beat in a frenzy as I stood in front of my mirror, gazing at my reflection - my face tinted with a slight rose blush of anticipation and my hair fell loosely and in soft waves around my shoulders.
Everything was ready - dinner, dessert cooling on my bedroom windowsill, my apartment tidied up, table finished, some candles lit to give the small place a cozy and homey atmosphere, and everything sharp and potentially dangerous banned into drawers and cabinets.
It was five minutes after six, and although Jacob had warned me that the kids might delay his arrival, I was getting even edgier with each passing second. My slightly trembling hand stroked across my flimsy patterned blouse - something I had bought on a trip to Florida a few years ago and had never worn since then. Maybe it had just been waiting for this moment.
Deciding that another sprinkle of perfume couldn't do any harm, I dwelled in the soft, bloomy scent and jumped a little when the door bell rang. I had hated the shrill sound of it from the very first day.
Inhaling deeply, I stepped out of my bathroom, straightening myself before opening the door to my apartment with what I hoped to be a warm and welcoming smile.
Jacob stood there with his bright, sunny smile on his face, a bouquet of red marguerites in his hand, Finley and Isla standing in front of him. They were both slightly nervous-looking.
"Hello," I said, smiling down at the kids to ease their nervousness, and Finley immediately snapped out of his unease, enveloping my legs in one of his tight bear hugs.
"Good evening, Bella," he said very formally, grinning up at me.
"Hey, Finley. Hey, Isla," I said carefully. I knew that Isla was not as open and easy-going as her brother, but her genuine and shy smile let me know she was not going to turn on her heels and run away.
"Hey," I finally said, a little out of breath, to Jacob whose eyes were fixed on Finley wrapped around my legs.
"Hey," he then answered, stepping closer and hugging me shortly, ignoring the fact that his son was still between us.
"Come in," I said. Finley let go of me and jumped eagerly into my apartment.
"You can put your jackets on those hooks there," I explained, pointing to the scarce coat hooks my apartment had to offer.
While the kids dropped their backpacks into a corner and fumbled with their zippers, I closed the door and turned to Jacob who was still looking at me.
"These are for you," he said almost shyly, holding out the bright bouquet. "Isla picked them," he added quietly, and I laughed.
"Thank you, they're beautiful." I took them out of his hands, our skin touching for a second, and I realized how much I already missed the feel of his skin.
Two things stopped me from putting the flowers into a vase then. First, I could not help but stare a little as Jacob took off his leather jacket, my bottom lip immediately wandering between my teeth. Second, I felt something picking at the hem of my shirt, and I turned around to see Isla standing behind me, her eyes filled with something that reminded me of fear.
"I made this for you," she almost whispered, holding up a folded piece of paper. Knowing that my size must scare her even more than the fact that she barely knew me, I knelt down and took the paper from her tiny hands.
"Thank you so much," I said with a wide smile as I unfolded the paper. It was a picture of a sunny summer day at the beach, and it was obvious that Isla was very fond of using colours.
She seemed relieved as I thanked her and carefully brushed my hand against her head, letting my fingers run through her dark hair.
"I have one, too!" Finley squeaked and Isla rolled her eyes - apparently something she did frequently around her brother. Finley, being braver and not as quiet as his sister, jumped around my throat, almost knocking me on my back. I squealed and caught my balance just in time.
"This is you," he said proudly as I eyed the picture - a rather squeezed and unhappy-looking version of myself grimacing at me from the paper.
"Thank you, Finley," I said. I was feeling bolder with him, and so I lightly kissed him on his cheek. He blushed adorably.
"You two look so great tonight," I said, unable to suppress the fuzzy feeling that washed over me at the sight of the two. Isla in her blue skirt, white, knitted jacket with bright butterflies and ladybugs embroidered on it, and Finley in his red-striped shirt, looking like a little gentleman.
"I couldn't keep them from dressing up," Jacob laughed next to us sitting on the floor. I grinned up at him.
Realizing that I still had the flowers in my hand, I quickly dropped them on a counter, wanting to show my guests around before putting them in a vase.
"So, it's really not big but… enough for me. Ehm.. Here is the bathroom, just in case," I said, pointing at the door closest to us before stepping further into the apartment, Jacob and the kids following me.
"Well, kitchen and living room. My bedroom is behind that door. That's really about it," I said with a smile, almost a little embarrassed by how tiny everything was.
"So many pictures!" Isla said with her quiet and thoughtful voice, staring at my brick wall full of memories.
"Yes. And do you know what? Yours are going there right now," I said, walking over to the wall and pinning the two pictures they had given me between the wall and two picture frames.
Both of their faces shone with joy as I turned around.
"Actually, you could sit down already. Dinner should be finished any minute now," I said, pointing towards my dining table. Both Finley and Isla immediately jumped in the direction of the table. However, they did not sit down, but rather stared out of the large window while mumbling and chattering.
"Anything I can help you with?" Jacob asked politely.
"No, it's fine. It's all finished. Just sit down; I'll be with you in a second."
He nodded, and I rushed past him, the feeling of having him here in my home so surreal that I needed a minute for myself.
Filling a glass vase with water, I put the beautiful flowers in it, my face burying inside the bouquet for a second, inhaling the delicate scent and admiring the soft touch of the petals against my cheeks.
As I put the lasagne on four plates, I heard Jacob explaining several sights outside to his children. The entire time I could not help but smile to myself, and I almost burned myself with the hot pan in the process.
"What do you want to drink?" I asked as I put the flowers in the middle of the table and rushed the few steps back into the kitchen to get the plates. I put them on the table while Jacob pushed Finley's and Isla's chairs closer.
"Orange juice!" Finley squeaked excitedly, almost falling off his chair due to his flourishing movements.
"Finley," Jacob said with authority in his voice as he sat down next to the empty chair that would be mine.
"Sorry, Dad," Finley said, his body stilling immediately and his blush from earlier returning.
"Orange juice, please."
"I want the same, please," Isla said, playfully nudging her brother with her elbow.
"Could you mix it with water? They always get a stomach ache from drinking it pure," Jacob explained.
"Of course. What would you like?"
"Water should be fine."
"Sure?"
"Yep."
"Lasagne!" I heard Finley squeak again as he obviously realized what we would be having for dinner.
I returned with the glasses and sat down, feeling slightly tense next to Jacob but not necessarily in a bad way. I felt warm and comfortable around him. It was some kind of expectant anxiety which made me shiver every few minutes.
"Enjoy your meal!" I said, seeing how impatient Finley and Isla already were and with a mumbled Thank you they dug into their food.
"Thank you," Jacob repeated, directing it at me and I blushed a little when we looked into each other's eyes. "It smells fantastic."
"Thank you," I said, smiling gratefully before taking my fork and tasting what I thought to be the best lasagne I had ever made.
We ate in silence except for Jacob occasionally reminding his children to sit straighter or to stop eating like a caveman. Ours gazes met a few times, and I felt more and more comfortable and at ease, the entire situation effortless and as easy as a sunny afternoon at the beach.
"That was soooo good," Finley said as he finished, leaning back in his chair and theatrically rubbing his belly.
"Thank you, I'm glad you liked it," I said, finished myself and taking a sip of my cherry juice.
"Daddy can't cook lasagne," Isla said. Jacob put on a mock pout which looked ridiculously hilarious.
"Do you still copy, Bella?" Finley asked completely off topic, but I welcomed his erratic thoughts, and I laughed.
"You left quite an impression on him. He wants to do the same thing you do when he is big," Jacob said wisely, and I grinned.
"Yes, I still copy," I admitted. "But that's not all I do."
"What else?"
"Well, I file. That means I put many many papers in a certain order and put them into something called an archive. That's a room with hundreds of those papers. And I have to talk to many people on the telephone."
"Do you have pets?"
This boy was fantastic. He could jump from one topic to the other without effort and always with the purest expression of curiosity in his eyes. It was so different from the conversations I was used to - with the exception of my mother, maybe, who still had the ability to speak of things with the enthusiasm of a child. It made me feel sad that most adults lose that capability with age. Thinking about it, it was a horrible price to pay.
"No, I'm not allowed to have pets in here," I explained, swirling my hand through the air.
"Daddy says we're not allowed, too," Finley said, his lips forming a pout again, and he looked to his father, who was smirking.
"Yes, that's what I say." It was obvious that there was no discussion allowed on this topic, either.
"What would you like to have?" I asked, beginning to pile the empty plates.
"Puppy!" Finley squealed in excitement, once again almost falling out of his chair. Isla grabbed her brother's arm to steady him. "And I would call him Cookie. And he will be thiiis big," he continued, ignoring his momentary loss of balance, raising his arms to show how big of a dog he wanted. "He would sleep in my bed, and we would play football all day."
I stood up with the plates in my hand, grinning at Jacob who rolled his eyes at his son's very vivid plans for the future.
"Let me help you with that," he said, pushing back his chair to help me. I raised my free hand.
"No, you stay here. I'll get…" I turned back to Finley and Isla who were looking at me curiously after I had paused mid-sentence.
"The dessert," I finished. Seeing the sparkle in the children's eyes was one of those priceless moments in life.
"What dessert?" Finley asked, his voice and body tense with anticipation.
"Surprise," I said with a wink and brought the empty plates to the sink, placing them there before going to my bedroom. A strange feeling of anticipation was running through myself. It was the same sensation I often had on someone's birthday, eager for them to finally unwrap their presents.
Taking the jello from the windowsill and removing the plastic wrap, I went back into the living room, Jacob smiling at me with a twinkle in his eyes while Finley and Isla practically jumped in their chair.
"Jello!" they both yelled excitedly and I placed it before them, quickly getting the vanilla sauce out of the fridge. The two of them started eating quicker than I could sit down again Jacob was about to say something, but I shook my head, indicating it was okay.
Already pretty full from the lasagne and not too fond of jello, I only ate a small portion, admiring how eager Finley and Isla munched their plates.
"I think it's enough now," Jacob said after they had finished their second portion, him and me long finished and only busy with looking at them.
"Daddy!" Finley cried, but Jacob shook his head with a serious face, and Finley dropped his spoon in defeat.
"You know, I can put the rest in a box and you can take it home with you so you can have the rest tomorrow," I said, looking rather at Jacob than the children, seeking approval. He grinned, and the children were lost in a rush of thank you´s and excited squeals.
"What time is it?" Isla asked when their voices had calmed down and Jacob checked his watch.
"Seven thirty."
Isla's face fell a little, and I felt bad all of a sudden, sensing that they were missing out on something because they were here.
"What is it?" I asked Jacob.
"They're allowed to watch TV on weekends. And Babe started fifteen minutes ago," he explained, his eyes trying to tell me that it was no big deal.
"If it's okay with you, they could watch it - I do have a TV," I said laughing. At my words, I could see Finley and Isla tensing again, waiting for their father's decision.
"That would be okay?"
"Sure," I said and stood up, scanning my couch for the remote.
"Here," I said, handing it to Jacob. "I'll clean up."
Finley now did fall from his chair in excitement but before either of us could check on him, he was on his small feet again, acting as if nothing had happened, apparently doing some kind of happy dance in my living room. Isla smiled brightly at me as I collected the plates and carried them to the kitchen, dropping them next to the rest of the dishes by the sink.
Rummaging my cabinets for a box, I found a turquoise-colored one, dumping the debris of jello into it. Jacob put his children on my couch, taking off their shoes, telling them not to make a mess and I laughed. His children behaved so well, and the manners they had were more than I expected from a four year old, yet he still admonished them.
Plunging the plug into my sink I let the water start to run, my fingers carefully sticking underneath the jet of water testing the temperature, enjoying the lukewarm liquid enveloping my fingers. I turned my head when the sound of the TV set in and watched Finley zapping through the channels proudly. The remote was almost as long as his forearm. Jacob cleaned the corner of Isla's mouth with a tissue - under erratic protest from her side.
Smiling, I turned back towards my task, dropping some of my lily-scented dish liquid into the slowly rising water. I started to carefully drop the dishes into the water.
"I found it!" Finley called victoriously, and I heard Jacob chuckling.
"Sshh!" Isla hissed. Soon the only sounds to hear were those coming from the television, the soft splashing of the water in the sink and shuffling on the couch, one of the kids - most likely Finley - obviously not very satisfied with the sitting position.
Suddenly, a very warm hand pressed against my lower back, the warmth radiating from there immediately causing me to shiver slightly. When another hand gently pulled my hair away from my neck, placing it across my other shoulder, fingertips feathering against my sensitive neck like a butterfly, I let my eyelids fall closed. I breathed deeply.
"Are you sure you don't want help here?" Jacob whispered, his close proximity to me allowed his warm breath to fan across my skin, letting the flimsy hairs stand straight again.
His fingers started to brush against my back, the tender touch leaving swirls of warmth on my covered skin.
"You could help me dry these," I managed to say, my voice whispery and quiet, while my hands nervously waved towards the pile of dripping, foamy dishes.
"Okay," he whispered, the back of his free hand gently brushing against my cheek before he let go of me entirely. I missed his touch immediately. Being close to him, the warmth and the electrifying tingle that he caused in me, and yet the ease and joy everything ignited in me, was something I had never noticed I missed, but now that I did, I never wanted it to stop.
I handed him a dishtowel, our fingers brushing shortly once again, both of us looking down at them before our eyes met, the sparkle in Jacob's burning in my heart.
Wordlessly, we started our work, the only sound was once again the TV, the water splashing and Finley's bumpy shuffling behind us. Never before had I met a person with whom I could be in silence like this. Normally, silence scared me, the noise it caused in my ears, the dull drumming of my heart, the pressure on my temples, the unease. With Jacob, silence was easy and light, both of us enjoying each other's company without words necessary to keep us entertained.
The only thing that bothered me were the many questions that lingered on my tongue, the urge to really get to know this man - questions I could not ask just now, that were inappropriate or rash. But even worse than the lingering questions was the urge to be closer to him, being deprived of physical contact for way too long, the shivers a simple touch could elicit waking up parts of myself I had long forgotten and buried.
"Why don't you have a dishwasher?" Jacob asked after we quickly finished our work.
"I had all the money saved for it, but then my car broke, and I needed to fix that first," I said, remembering my fury back then.
"Next time you have problems with your car you can just call me," he said, and I looked at him rather confused, vaguely fearing one of those manly outburst about cars.
"I'm a mechanic," he added. I understood and laughed at my feather-brained reaction.
I opened the cabinet door for the plates and jumped a little, pushing myself up to sit on the counter, one by one piling the plates back into their places. Jacob started laughing at me sitting on the counter like a child, but I just grinned at him. After the last plate landed in the cabinet with a rather loud clang, Jacob stepped in front of me so my knees touched his stomach.
I nervously looked over his shoulder towards the couch were Isla and Finely sat, both of their eyes practically glued to the TV screen, their mouth gaping open, the wheels behind their foreheads working on overdrive. Tearing my eyes away from them, I looked back at Jacob and then switched momentarily back to them before finally focussing on him entirely.
"It's okay," he whispered, his fingers gently trailing across my cheekbone and pushing some of my wavy strands behind my ear, all the while smiling at me.
"I like your hair better this way," he said, and I smiled, another blush tinting my already burning cheeks.
We stared at each other. Jacob's hand lingered around my ear, the warmth from his skin sucking into my every pore, every muscle in my body tense from the anticipation for something I knew would not come. Not tonight.
Jacob apparently realized the same thing. He sighed quietly in frustration and dropped his hand, letting it brush my knee before he stepped aside to lean his back against the counter next to me.
"So, what exactly do you do for that magazine?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. I knew he dreaded this as much as I did - although I had to admit I was thankful that Finely and Isla were nearby, keeping me from taking steps that might lead me into an abyss I was not ready to fall into. Not yet. Maybe never again.
"Well, I'm the assistant of the editor-in-chief's assistant," I said, making it sound especially important with mock enthusiasm.
"Sounds like the most important position to be in," Jacob laughed with that irresistible boyish grin, making my heart flutter in delight.
"Yeah, absolutely," I said, sighing. "I really do copy all day long, call people and lie to them about why the editor won't talk to them now, filing stuff, walking around all day and the most important and responsible task: occasionally - or not so occasionally - getting my boss stuff from the cafeteria and therefore having to sacrifice my own lunch break," I continued in a rush, glad to finally have released some of the steam my work had boiled inside of me all this time.
"Couldn't you find another job?"
"I'm not really…a very risk-taking person, you know?" I laughed without humour, looking down at my feet dangling in the air.
"That couldn't have been your dream job then, could it?"
I snorted at that rhetorical question and shook my head.
"Then what is?"
Looking up again, I saw the honest curiosity and interest in Jacob's eyes, and it made me feel more self-confident and happier to see that he really cared about this and wanted to know more, wanted to get to know me as much as I wanted to get to know him.
"I majored in English literature. I always wanted to write."
"About what?"
"Things that matter. Not the newest diet or handbags or nail polish or the top five pro's and con's to falling in love with your best friend. Although I don't even get to write about that now. All I ever write is post-its for my boss," I said with sadness in my voice, the longing for my long lost dream as fresh as the air streaming through an opened window.
I sighed, feeling bad for dragging the mood down, but the next second I felt Jacob's hand back on my knee, his thumb stroking against the denim of my jeans. I looked up to see him smile reassuringly at me, trying to encourage me.
"And you? You said you're a mechanic?" I asked, trying to sound as calm and at ease as possible. But lying had never been a gift of mine. A flaw that had gotten in my way far too many times in my life
"Yes," he said, obviously not buying my sudden change of mood but cooperating nonetheless. "But there's not really much to tell," he said laughing. "I have a garage right by my house which is good. I don't have to go far, and it's easier to take breaks to drive the kids places, you know?"
"It's your own garage?" I asked, not really having expected that.
"Yes," he answered proudly. "And it's the only garage around where I live, so business is well. At least, good enough for a living."
The conversation went easier after my initial low mood, and we spent the next hour in my kitchen talking about everything that came into our minds. My need to get to know Jacob was easing during this hour, and I felt more and more comfortable around him.
He was originally from a Quileute reservation in Washington and had two older sisters, Rachel and Rebecca, who were twins. He was indeed obsessed with cars - not just because of his profession - but had rebuilt the Rabbit he drove as a teenager. He loved cheaply produced horror movies, because he thought they were hilarious. Growing up in the rainiest area of the States had created an affection for damp and rainy weather in him. He also loved beaches and the sea, woods and hiking, cliff diving and thunderstorms. His favorite color was brown, and he said that he liked his soda warm instead of the usual ice-cold.
I could have listened to his voice for the rest of my life; the deep, husky tone such a pleasure to listen to - almost like a lullaby. I started to think of his interest in me - which I had adored so much earlier - as strangely annoying to some extent, because it meant that he was quiet, and I had to talk. But I willingly answered all his questions. We ended up in a heated discussion about climate change when Babe ended, and Finley and Isla came jumping into the kitchen babbling about the movie without a pause.
Jacob threw an apologetic look at me, but I only smiled and silently let him know that it was no problem. I was attentively listening to a summary of a movie I had seen countless times before, the entire thing sounding so much different from a child's perspective, and I admired how deep Isla and Finley already grasped the meaning of certain things.
Half an hour later, and under much protest from Finley and Isla, I watched my guests get dressed. Hoping to calm them down a little, I handed Isla the box with the jello, and both of them fell silent, thanking me and eyeing the box like starving lions.
I patted the top of their heads, Finley once again wrapping his arms around me like tentacles. When he let go of me, I turned to face Jacob, dressed in his leather jacket. I was close to protesting like the children - I did not want him to leave. Ever.
Jacob smiled before chastely wrapping his arms around me in a friendly hug. However, on our side turning away from the children - who were busier with their jello than with us - he brushed the tip of his nose against my earlobe.
"Can I call you later?" he whispered, the warm breath against my ear sending a tingle throughout my entire neck. I only managed to nod, longing to pull him back to me when he retreated with another warm and caring smile.
"Goodbye," he said, grabbing his children's backpacks.
I opened the door and managed to press out a very weak goodbye, waving as Isla and Finley jumped through the hallway outside my apartment, Jacob having to grab Finley rather roughly by his arm as he threatened to just jump down the stairs.
Closing the door, I could hear their faint chatter for another minute before the entire house was enveloped in silence, making me feel uncomfortable again.
For the first time since I moved in here, I began to feel alone. In my own home.
Something was already missing.
continue with part 9