Chapter Text
Bella's fingers were white in their iron grip on the armrests of the small economy class chair she was currently seated in. She had never been a fan of flying. She had done so frequently thanks to her erratic, harebrained mother's various pursuits and had hoped she would have been used to it by now. Nevertheless, every time the plane began to taxi toward the long stretch of tarmac, she felt as though she were stuffed into a can like sardines—packed shoulder to shoulder, legs crammed into the gaps like tiny fins begging to flail for more space. The roar of the ocean was replaced by the plane's incessant droning, the only noticeable difference being the unnaturally low humidity drying the throats of all who shared the can's confines. Bella definitely hated flying.
Usually, once they were fully in the air and the seat belt lights had been turned off, she would begin to calm down. This time was different. Whether it was the hasty escape from the suffocation of Phoenix, the uncertainty of her destination and the impending reunion with Charlie, or the fact that she knew she had absolutely no control over the aircraft remaining in the sky, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that the edges of her vision began to darken as her breathing came in short, sharp gasps, a light sheen of sweat broke out across her skin and had slicked the armrests she still clung to. Her heartbeat quickened against her chest, each thud louder than the last, until the roar of the plane faded away. Just as the dizziness and tingling in her extremities threatened to overwhelm her, she gradually began to calm. A cool, slightly calloused hand clasped hers, bringing a wave of warmth and care from its vigilant owner.
Bella reached for that sense of security, clinging to it like a lifeline. As her vision slowly cleared, and her breathing levelled out, she looked up into a face that mirrored her own. The same chocolate-brown eyes, brimming with affection and boundless kindness; the same pale complexion, identical to Bella’s. But where Bella’s thick, chestnut-brown hair cascaded halfway down her back, The other girl’s—though identical in color—was styled into a tousled French bob, its ends brushing just below her chin. Bella’s full lips, too large for her slender jawline, contrasted sharply with the other girl’s more angular features. Her chiseled jawline and firm cheeks, sculpted by a healthy muscle tone, gave her face a striking, defined look. Her older sister, as she always joked, despite being born only minutes apart.
“You okay Bells?” Concern creased her usually straight brows.
“Y-Yeah, sorry… I’m fine.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have suggested flying,” she said, her tone softening. “Though I can’t say a thirty-six hour coach journey was any more tempting.” She gave a light-hearted huff, in an attempt to ease her sister’s nerves.
“Really it’s fine,” Bella responded, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “It’s just… everything’s too much at the moment.”
“I know… I know. Let’s not focus on all that right now. How’re you feeling about seeing everyone again?” Her grip on Bella’s hand loosened slightly, but remained there, a quiet reassurance.
A small smile flickered across Bella’s face at the reminder of friends she hadn’t seen in so long. Memories of simpler times—making mud pies and playing along the river banks during one of their many summer visits—suddenly flooded back. Visits that had been frequent before Phil. Before he stopped them for no apparent reason. He always had an excuse, one that Renée somehow agreed with. One time it was his minor league baseball commitments; Renée couldn’t possibly want to harm his career and apparently it was bad to leave the house unattended and their jobs an employee down, so they had to take care of the house and bills while they were off gallivanting. Another time, it was a lack of money, despite him having just brought home a new truck, that Bella and Izzy had probably helped pay for. Eventually, he would simply say the timing wasn’t right, and Renée would acquiesce. She knew exactly why he eventually changed his tune and essentially forced them into leaving to live in Washington, after what had happened, maybe he thought it would be better to get rid of them for good now that he and Renée were married. What Bella lamented most, though, was her real father’s absence. She assumed he had never fought to have them for any further summer visits, given his supposed indifference. And now, she and her sister were going to live with Charlie until at least the end of high school. A man they had barely spoken with recently, and hadn’t seen in an even longer time. Of course, everything felt like a lot right now.
“Are you sure Charlie will want us there?” Bella replied quietly, her voice betraying the unease she felt, not so subtly avoiding her sister’s question.
“Of course Dad will want us there. Why wouldn’t he?” Her sister’s tone was more confident, but still held a slight edge of uncertainty.
“But what if he doesn’t? We haven’t stayed with him in years.”
“I’m sure he has his reasons. It can’t be worse than Phoenix.” She gave Bella’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “And even if he doesn’t, we’ll only be there for a couple of years. After that, we can go to college together. We should both get in on scholarships, so the loans won’t be too bad… we’ll finally be away from everyone.”
Bella sat silent for a moment, her fingers firmly entwined with her sister’s. The roar of the plane engines and the din of passengers all but forgotten as her thoughts turned inward again. “I just wish things were different,” she whispered almost inaudibly, as if speaking too loud may shatter the fragile calm she’d just found. “I want to believe it’ll be okay, like how it was when we visited in the summers, but… I don’t know.”
Her sister’s face softened again. “I know, Bells. It’s a lot. I’m sorry what I did lead to this, but, we won’t know anything until we get there. It's gotta be better than Phil and Mum. There’s no point stressing over it. We haven't seen him in years, but it was never bad when we stayed. We’ve been through so much shit, right? I’m sure we can handle this.” She leaned her shoulder further over to Bella, offering as much comfort as possible in the cramped space.
“You know it wasn’t your fault-”
Just as Bella was about to say more, a loud snore from the man in the aisle seat broke the tension, causing both girls to stifle a laugh.
“Try to sleep, we still have well over an hour.”
Bella rested her head against her sister’s broad, muscular shoulder, claiming her peace in defiance of the tumult of her thoughts. Her sister’s arm instinctively wrapped around her, offering additional protection and warmth that only family could give.
“Love you Izz, I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Love you too Bells. You’ll never have to, okay?”
***
Mercifully, for Bella, she slept almost the entire remaining length of the flight, her head resting against the defined shoulder beside her, inexplicably softened by her sister’s gentleness toward her. The deep, steady hum of the plane’s engines, a now constant rhythm, that carried her away from the suffocating heat of Phoenix, and into the oppressive chill of the unknown. Only as they began their final descent to Seattle-Tacoma airport did she stir, her eyes flickering open to reveal a cold, grey sky pressing in on the aircraft from all sides. Below, the sprawling city stretched out like a cluttered maze of tangled streets and endless suburbs. The sun in Phoenix, although unforgiving, was not there to break through the gloom as the last traces of brightness were swallowed by the ever present mist hanging over the city, smothering it in a sense of unease.
Once they had escaped the chaos of the airport, after a brief stop in duty-free for the cheapest, appropriate coats they could find—guided by her older sister—they boarded the Bainbridge Island ferry cutting its way through the churning waters of the Puget Sound with a quiet, unsettling tempo. The dark silhouette of Seattle’s looming skyline slowly faded into the gathered fog, leaving behind little more than a faint outline—its sharp edges, so vast and unyielding from the air, now softened and lost in the haze. Ahead of them rose the expansive forests of Bainbridge Island and the Olympic Peninsula further beyond. The dense canopy of trees exuded an ancient, untouchable silence, their shadowed depths tranquil yet unnerving. The vista seemed steeped in a sense of profound stillness, almost serene, but with a fragility that felt as though the land were holding its breath, suspended in time, waiting for something unseen to stir.
The coach they caught from the ferry terminal wound its way through the Peninsula’s quiet landscape, the road flanked by thick forests that seemed to stretch on endlessly, while the imposing Olympic Mountains stood in the background, visible when peeking out through the treeline. Occasionally the woodlands would open up into sweeping views of the Puget Sound, providing a brief reprieve from the towering sentinels that seemed to press down on the vehicle. The journey itself was uneventful, the only sound the spattering of rain against the windows, punctuating the overwhelming silence.
“Sorry about earlier… on the plane,” Bella murmured to her sister, her voice barely rising above the stillness, as though afraid of intruding on the quiet around them.
“Bells you don’t have to apologise to me. I know how much you hate flying.” Izzy’s voice was soft and understanding, her gaze fixed on the passing greenery.
Bella swallowed, feeling a familiar pang of guilt. She wished, just for once, she could be the strong one. Izzy always seemed so effortlessly confident, carrying herself with a steady calm that Bella could never quite grasp, especially given everything they had been through.
“I don’t know why I can’t just let it go…” Bella hesitated, as though admitting it aloud would make her feelings of inadequacy more real.
Izzy turned to her, narrowly suppressing a playful grin as she nudged Bella’s shoulder. “I gotta look out for my baby sister, right?”
Bella couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at her lips. “Ha. Ha.” she said drily, but there was a warmth to her expression, an understanding of a joke only twins could share.
They settled back into a comfortable silence for a few more miles, the hum of the coach filling the space between them. Eventually, Bella broke the quiet again, noticing her sister still surveying the forests outside the window, as though they held some secret.
“This place already growing on you?”
Izzy scrunched her face up in thought before replying, “Not sure yet. It is peaceful though.” She then turned to Bella, her gaze lit up with a mischievous spark. “Think of all the trouble we could get into out here.”
“We could get into?” Bella spluttered, her eyes wide with mock offence. “You’re the one always getting us into trouble!”
Izzy laughed, her shoulders shaking slightly. “Sure, sure. But what’s life without a little adventure?”
They both chuckled softly, savouring the lighthearted exchange. Bella often felt she leaned too heavily on her sister, her apologies a reflex after needing comfort. But in an instant, the weight of everything else seemed to lift, replaced by a fleeting sense of relief. She exhaled slowly. These gentle, laidback moments between them always seemed to steady her.
***
After another half-hour of travel they eventually pulled into the sleepy town of Port Angeles, a stark contrast to the relentless intensity of Phoenix, where they had lived on and off since the age of six. The rain had intensified since their landing in Seattle, making stepping off the coach an unpleasant experience as they waited for the driver to retrieve their bags from the hold. Most of the twins' entire lives were crammed into a single tan surplus duffle bag and a grey hiking backpack for Bella, while Izzy carried a similar backpack in black alongside a battered navy suitcase that they had unearthed with haste from the back of the loft. Neither the duffle nor the suitcase were particularly convenient, but it was all they were able to grab.
“Here, I’ll take the duffle. You can drag the suitcase,” Izzy said, hoisting the tan bag over her right shoulder with a grunt. “You see Charlie? I’d rather not lug this around for too long.”
Bella glanced around, her brow furrowed. “Not yet. Sorry—it’s a little heavy. I didn’t want to leave anything behind.”
“It’s alright, as long as I use this shoulder.” Izzy glanced at her sister with a raised eyebrow. “Is that why you snuck some of your books into my suitcase? Thought I wouldn’t notice?” she teased as they started walking.
Bella flushed, her cheeks tinged pink. “I didn’t think you saw that,” she muttered, looking at the ground as they walked towards the car park, hiding her face behind her hair. “ I didn’t want to leave them behind for him to throw away… and I thought they’d be safer in the case.”
Izzy snorted in amusement. “Safer? Bella, those books are barely holding together as is. They’ve survived more re-reads than I care to count. I don’t think a suitcase will fix that.”
Bella couldn’t help the small smile spreading to her lips. “You know why they’re important to me.”
“I do,” Izzy said softly.
The sky had darkened during their coach journey, and the rain-slick pavement reflected heavily under the glow of the automatic street lights. A couple dozen vehicles were scattered around the car park, their exteriors battered by the relentless downpour.
“We really should have coordinated better. I’m getting drenched,” Izzy huffed, brushing damp hair out of her eyes. “You don’t think he’s waiting by the ticket-”
“Bella! Izzy!”
Charlie's voice cut through the torrent as he jogged over to them after shutting the door of the police cruiser they’d somehow missed. He pulled each of them into an awkward one-armed hug, completely oblivious to Bella freezing up when he did so. “It’s good to see you both.”
“Yeah, you too. Can we please get out of this damn rain?” Izzy responded, adjusting the heavy bag on her shoulder.
“Oh, sure.” Charlie took the bag from Izzy and guided them toward the police cruiser. While hauling their luggage into the boot, he added, “One of you will have to sit in the back.”
Before Izzy could offer, Bella had already opened the rear passenger door and slid into the seat.
“Sorry about the leg room back there,” Charlie said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “We didn’t have anything bigger available today.”
“It’s fine Ch—Dad,” Bella replied, quickly covering her mistake.
Charlie smiled in response before turning his attention to Izzy in the front seat. “You had your hair cut?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’ve had a haircut in the almost three years since you last saw me in person,” Izzy said, fiddling with the dashboard controls in an attempt to turn up the heat.
“Oh. Looks nice,” he returned, pulling out of the parking spot and starting down the street in the direction of Forks.
The rhythmic sound of water droplets against the car filled the silence until Charlie broke it again when they were on Highway 101, his voice tentative. “How are you both? How’s Renée? I know this was last minute but It’s good to have you here.”
“We’re fine. Mum’s the same.” Izzy replied, staring at the greenery flying by out the rain-streaked window, before muttering under her breath, “She seems happy to be rid of us.”
“Hmm. And you, Bella?” Charlie asked, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror, clearly missing the bitter remark his eldest had let slip. His voice was calm, almost tentative, as if trying not to push too hard.
“Yeah I’m fine thanks Dad, just a little tired from the trip.” He gave a short nod in response, either accepting the answer or unsure of how to press further.
Charlie hesitated before speaking again. “Well I was gonna wait to surprise you, I know it’s only been a few days since you arranged to live here again, but I found a good car for you two. Really cheap.”
At this, Izzy turned toward him, suspicion creeping into her voice. “What kind of car?”
“Well, it’s a truck, actually. A Chevy.”
“Does it run?” Izzy asked bluntly.
“Yeah, the thing runs great. It’s Billy Black’s old one. You know, from La Push?”
“Jacob’s Dad?” Bella cut in, her unease evident. After everything they’d had to scrounge last minute and put towards travel and the cost of sending a box of Izzy’s equipment from the airport, they had barely managed to afford the few extra clothes they’d scraped together for the colder weather from the duty-free in Seattle—let alone the cost of maintaining an old truck.
“That’s the one,” Charlie confirmed, his eyes on the road. “He’s in a wheelchair now, can’t drive anymore. He offered to sell me it cheap.”
“And how old is it exactly?” Izzy pressed, her tone skeptical.
“Billy’s done a lot of work on the engine—It’s only a few years old, really.”
“You didn’t answer my question though,” Izzy returned, now glaring slightly. She’d clearly figured out the financial implications as well.
“Well, he bought it in Nineteen Eighty-Four, I think,” he responded after a brief hesitation.
“And it was new in Eighty-Four?”
“Well, no,” he admitted sheepishly. “I think it was new in the sixties—late fifties at the earliest.”
Izzy stared at him, incredulous. “Dad, we really can’t afford it. We barely have any money as is, the mechanic’s fees would be too much if it breaks down.”
Bella nodded slightly, though she knew what Izzy said wasn’t exactly true. When she mentioned them having ‘barely any money’, what she really meant was they had about thirty dollars between them.
“Uh. Well…” Charlie’s voice trailed off as he scratched the back of his neck, an awkward habit Bella recognised in herself. “I kind of already bought it for you. It’s a gift—to welcome you back to Forks. I figured you wouldn’t want to be seen around town in my cruiser.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Dad.” Izzy looked genuinely shocked.
“Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Bella added, much softer. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, now, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with their gratitude. “I just want you both to be happy here, and you’ll probably want the freedom.”
Izzy tilted her head, giving a curious look. “How did you even know we could drive? I thought you and Mum barely spoke.”
Charlie glanced at her, caught off guard. “Wait, you can drive can’t you?”
Izzy smirked faintly. “I can, yeah.”
His eyes flicked back to the rear view mirror, meeting Bella’s gaze. “Just Izzy? Sorry, I should’ve asked before you got here.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Speaking of which, I only have one of your numbers. Who should I call if I need to reach you?”
“We only have one phone.” Izzy answered quickly, shooting Bella a subtle look. “Bella’s broke a while back.”
Charlie nodded, apparently satisfied with the explanation. “Alright. Well, if money’s tight, I can get you something cheap.”
“That’s really okay, Dad. I probably don’t need one,” Bella said, her voice quiet.
“I insist. It’s safer, and it’ll be easier to make friends at school if you can text them,” he replied firmly, leaving no room for debate.
Bella could feel her cheeks flush with slight embarrassment. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”
“Anyway…” Charlie continued, his focus turned back to the road once more. “I don’t mind covering gas or helping out with everyday stuff, anything expensive though and you’ll have to find a part-time job—as long as it doesn’t affect either of your grades.”
Izzy glanced at Bella again. “We worked a bit in Phoenix, I’m sure we’ll manage.”
“Okay, but school comes first. If you’re struggling just say, I’ll help with whatever you need within reason.”
The conversation drifted to more mundane topics like the unrelenting weather, and if it would ever clear up, the answer being a resounding no. Eventually silence settled over the car again, the three of them left staring out the windows at the overly green scenery passing them by, the quiet only broken by the increasingly heavy downpour. The rain blurred the edges of the world outside, reflecting the uncertainty hanging between the two sisters as they approached their new home. Charlie’s warm reception and steady presence, however awkward, eased their nerves ever so slightly, and made living in Forks feel a little less daunting for them both.
***
They hadn’t expected anything different when they pulled up to Charlie’s house. It was the same modest three-bedroom, one-bathroom home they’d all lived in during the first few years of their parent’s brief marriage, and some of the summers since then. The only noticeable change was the faded red truck sitting in the driveway where the police cruiser usually sat.
Bella found herself liking the truck. She wasn’t going to be the one driving it—she knew that much—but the solid iron body looked like it could withstand some damage, and its oversized, bulbous shape had a certain charm. It was far more interesting than their mother’s nondescript, late-’90s Toyota back in Phoenix, the one Izzy had driven most of the time. Clearly, her sister agreed with her, since the first thing she did after stepping out of the car was to thank Charlie again and exclaim how much she loved it. Bella, meanwhile, was mostly just relieved that they wouldn’t have to walk to school or endure an early-morning ride in the Chief’s cruiser.
Walking through the front door to the house felt like stepping into a time capsule. The same faint scent of worn leather and damp wood lingered in the air, transporting her back to their childhood summer visits. The Walls and surfaces were lined with framed photographs—Bella and Izzy featured most prominently, captured at various stages of their lives, though none particularly recent. There were plenty of pictures of Renée, too, her carefree smile frozen in carefully posed moments, but they were off to the side, not as central.
Bella paused just inside, her eyes scanning the rest of the room. Behind her, Izzy and Charlie stepped in, closing the door against the still-falling but lighter rain. The furniture hadn’t changed, nor had the layout. Even the faded red-and-black plaid throw draped over the arm of the sofa looked familiar. It felt as though time had simply held its breath here—as if the house had been waiting in silence, untouched, while she and Izzy had been kept away. A strange weight settled in her chest—not quite concern for Charlie, but close.
She was snapped out of her contemplation by the thud of the duffle bag and suitcase dropping to the floor—each carried in by Charlie alone.
“Make sure you take the truck out for a spin soon. Maybe when it’s not raining. Jacob said something about the clutch,” Charlie huffed, removing his sodden Chief’s jacket and boots.
Izzy hummed noncommittally in response, still too absorbed in taking in the house—just as Bella had been moments earlier.
“So, is this everything you brought?”
“Uh, yeah. We didn’t have much suitable clothing,” Bella answered, allowing Izzy the space to keep looking around.
“Huh. Well, if you can wait for next weekend, I’ll take you to Port Angeles to get something. Otherwise, I’ll give you some money, and you can take the truck for a spin.”
“Really, dad, it’s fine,” Izzy replied, continuing to survey the room. The lack of changes to the house seemed to calm them both slightly—as if, despite everything, their father had somehow remained a constant.
“Look, I don’t know how your mum handled things in Phoenix. But I’m more than happy to help you pay for stuff. Especially clothes—you can’t wear shorts and crop tops here often… if that’s even what girls still wear.”
Izzy laughed, the lightest Bella had heard her in days. “We’re not that out of touch, Dad.”
Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “Well, that’s good to know.”
Bella’s shoulders dropped slightly at the familiarity of the awkwardness—almost comforting, “We’ll get back to you on it.”
Charlie gave a small nod in return. “Alright, I’ll help take the bags upstairs and leave you to settle in. One of you’ll have to take the guest room—I’m thinking you’re too big for sharing by now.” He ended with a grin.
Charlie turned to pick the bags back up but was beaten to them by Izzy.
“It’s cool, we got it from here. Thanks, Dad.” She gave him a small smile as she hefted the duffle over one shoulder.
“Alright then. I’m not the best cook, so thought I’d order pizza tonight. Any preferences?” He asked as he walked over to the house phone.
“Anything’s fine.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Pepperoni it is. Let me know if you need anything else,” he finished, already dialling. He seemed to know the number by heart.
Bella and Izzy hauled their luggage up the narrow staircase. Once they reached the landing, Izzy finally looked over at Bella. “Okay… this is weirdly not terrible.”
Bella hummed softly. “Yeah. I didn’t think it would be like this.”
The pictures continued up the walls of the landing, these even older than the ones downstairs. Most featured Charlie’s parents, Helen and Geoffrey Swan. One showed Charlie with them at his police graduation, while a large class photo from what was likely the same day—probably sometime in the ’80s—hung on the opposite wall. There were even a few photos of Charlie’s parents holding tiny, swaddled versions of Izzy and Bella, clearly taken in the hospital.
“Still. Phil was nice enough when we first met him. Charlie feels… a lot more genuine though.”
Izzy raised an eyebrow. “I still don’t get why you call him Charlie.”
Bella shrugged and moved towards the smaller guest bedroom. She didn’t really want to explain her reasoning—she doubted it would make much sense to Izzy. Her sister had always been better at going with the flow, more adaptable than Bella ever was. This was something she’d have to adjust to again. She didn’t want to risk potentially upsetting him.
The guest bedroom was a decent size and overlooked the wooded area to one side of the house. Izzy and Bella’s old room—which Izzy dragged her navy suitcase into—shared a wall with the guest room and looked out towards the lawn on the opposite side. The third bedroom upstairs was Charlie’s, positioned across the hallway from both, with large, front-facing windows that overlooked the street.
He had clearly made some changes—though whether they were recent, she couldn’t say—as the guest room now had a new queen-sized bed with off-white sheets set against the back wall. A familiar wooden nightstand sat to one side, while a solid-looking, dark wardrobe occupied most of the adjacent wall, ending just before a ceiling-high bookcase built into the corner. The large window beside it offered a view of the dense greenery outside, the rain now only glancing off the glass—light as it had become—casting soft, dappled shadows into the room.
“Well, believe it or not, the two twin beds are gone.” Izzy’s voice carried from the hallway, footsteps growing louder as she approached the guest room.
She poked her head through the doorway—already in a different set of clothes—her eyes were drawn to the tall bookcase and the window perpendicular to it. “Hmm. You’re gonna fill that up so quick if you’re not careful. Think I prefer our old room—the trees make yours kinda gloomy.”
Bella chuckled slightly and shook her head, now crouched at the foot of the bed, rooting through the duffle bag she’d hauled in from the landing.
“Whatcha looking for?”
“Gonna get changed and brush my teeth. Still feel gross from the plane.” Bella gave a slight shiver—whether from the memory of their recent flight or simply the discomfort of wearing the same clothes she’d sat in for hours inside a pressurised metal petri dish, she wasn’t sure.
“Cool. I’ll go for a pee downstairs, then.” Izzy stopped halfway out the door. “Hey, do you think it’d be crazy to go for a run right now?”
“Yes, Izzy. That would be crazy. Give it a day to settle in.”
“Alright, alright. See ya downstairs in a min.” She threw an exaggerated eye-roll over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.
After thoroughly washing her hands, brushing her teeth, splashing cold water on her face, and finally getting changed, Bella felt halfway towards clean again. She’d just started pulling a few things from her duffle and laying them out on the bed for sorting when the doorbell rang downstairs—Charlie and Izzy both calling out that the pizza had arrived.
When she made her way downstairs, she was met with a table already set for three in the kitchen—Izzy over at the taps, drawing glasses of water for them, and Charlie finishing up paying a boy who looked about fifteen—though he must have been older, since he’d apparently ridden to their house on the moped parked out front.
“Good kid. Think he’s a year below you.” Charlie announced to the room after closing the door.
Bella hummed in response and moved to sit down closest to the window, the smell of pizza more than inviting.
“Anyway, I’ve managed to enrol you both starting next Monday. I know you mentioned on the phone how important your grades were—didn’t want you missing too much. But you’ve got the weekend to get comfortable. Could go see Jake or Leah again, if you want?”
“Maybe not this weekend. I think we should check out the area first. I don’t really remember much of what’s around here,” Izzy replied, bringing the glasses over to the table. “Did you want anything else to drink? Wasn’t sure if you work Saturday mornings.”
“Yeah I’ll have a can of Rainier from the fridge. I usually work weekends—was gonna cut back now you’re both here, though. At least until you’re properly settled.”
“Oooh, can I have one?” Izzy said cheerily as she dived into the fridge and grabbed a can from the middle of the cardboard box.
“And how old might you be, young lady?” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow with a mock-stern look.
“Uh, twenty-one?” Izzy responded, a little less confident, though still clearly joking.
“Nice try. Maybe once you graduate,” Charlie chuckled at Izzy’s pout, grabbing a few slices of pizza as she sat down, placing the beer beside his water.
They were all seated around the table, exchanging a sentence or two now and then, but mostly just eating their surprisingly decent small-town pizza in a relatively pleasant quiet.
As they were finishing up, Izzy cleared her throat to speak. “As nice as this was, I take my health and fitness very seriously, and I can’t have a night like this often. Bella and I used to cook most of the time in Phoenix, so I think we’d be fine doing it here most days too—if you aren’t able.”
“Oh, um… yeah. That’s fine.” Charlie scratched at his neck again, self-conscious over his lack of culinary skills, or so Bella assumed. “I can leave you money for shopping each week, if you’d like? I wouldn’t know what to get.”
“Wow, That would be great thanks.” Izzy smiled wide in surprise, her strong features lighting up. “Speaking of which, I actually have one more box of stuff coming that I sent from the airport. It was kind of last-minute, so it won’t arrive until next week.”
Charlie looked over at Izzy with a questioning glance, after taking his eyes off Bella, who had been quiet for a while. Izzy leaned back slightly in her chair, casually nudging her plate toward the centre of the table. “It’s mostly just my equipment I couldn’t get in the case.”
“Equipment?”
“Yeah, my hockey gear,” she said, glancing at Bella with a slight blush before returning her attention to Charlie. “I’ve been playing a lot more seriously these past few years. I was hoping to get into UW on a sports scholarship.”
Charlie blinked, clearly surprised. “The University of Washington?”
“Mhmm,” she hummed, her expression brightening again, “They recently launched the first NCAA women’s ice hockey team on the West Coast. It’s a pretty big deal—it means a shot at getting noticed without having to move to the Northeast and dragging Bella with me out of state.”
She paused before continuing. “Although she’s a lock in most places, I’d imagine. Don’t see anywhere that wouldn’t give her a scholarship.”
Bella looked down at the table and scratched her neck—God, she’d have to stop doing that. She couldn’t pick up another habit.
“Well… that’s impressive. I’m proud of the both of you. Didn’t realise that was something you were aiming for, Izzy.” Charlie nodded slowly, something unreadable—but decidedly light—in his expression.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I never wanted to bring it up in our talks, ever since I started getting serious when I was thirteen. But yeah, it’s my biggest dream. Well, second biggest. Anyway, I’ve been training like crazy for years, and I’ve got a few scouts watching. I think if I keep my stats up, there’s a real chance.”
“Wow, what position do you play?” His eyes went slightly wide.
“Centre.”
Bella tuned out as they started getting more into the technical aspects of the game she had never been able to follow. A faint smile tugged at her lips. For all the supposed distance between them, maybe this move had actually been a blessing in disguise after all.