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The air smells acrid when Julie walks home, and there's a soft chill in the air. She usually doesn't mind the cold, but she's adjusted to the heat of California summers, and her t-shirt isn't standing up to the early October morning.
She can't get the smell out of her nose, even five blocks away now. Would it be weird if she pulled her shirt collar over her face and inhaled her own scent? Probably not; there's hardly anyone up to see her now, anyway.
Two more blocks. Will Bella be awake? She used to stay up, worried about her, but lately she's been more relaxed. Still worried, but maybe more confident. What would she even do to help, anyway?
She stops at a kind of busy intersection. The crosswalk has an orange hand hovering. She might be able to make it across, or—a car drives by, whipping more wind in her direction. At least it's a dry morning and she doesn't end up splattered with street gunk. And at least she didn't chance jaywalking.
The light turns and she crosses the street. The sun is starting to come up, which means all the vamps will have returned to their little hidey-holes, and Julie can rest for the day. Well, aside from work, but her garage is walking-distance from the farmer’s market where Bella will—
Oh. It’s Saturday. Bella will already be up, loading the car for the market by now. Maybe she’ll be wearing that green, over-sized sweater that’s so ugly it’s cute. Maybe she’ll have a hat on, too, floppy enough to block the sun from her face.
God, she’s adorable.
Around the final corner, she sees Bella talking to someone walking their dog. She’s standing on the other side of their fence (it’s not white picket, like it used to be when her grandmother was still alive; now it’s something like chicken wire, five feet tall, so she can use it for vining plants but also keep deer and the like out of the yard) surrounded on most sides by her garden. It’s not as booming as usual, since she had harvested yesterday, but there’s still several dahlias and camellias around her. The pumpkins are less obvious, but Julie knows where to look. The runt of the gang is still hanging on the vines, more yellow than orange.
Like any time she sees Bella talking to a stranger, Julie worries—the vampires who live here know who she is, and they know about her wife. If they ever wanted to target the source of misery, Bella would be their first stop.
But the sun is on the horizon and the streetlights are mostly out. The person standing there isn’t glittering, just wearing neon yellow athleisure.
Bella spots her and waves. She is wearing a floppy hat, made of straw, but not the sweater. Too bad. Instead she has on one of Julie’s jackets, the brown one that’s double lined and soft. She always tries to steal it, and today she was obviously successful.
Well, maybe Julie will wear her sweater to her garage and see how she likes that.
The person goes back to jogging, their dog apparently finished with sniffing the fence. Nice puppy.
Bella has the gate open as Julie arrives, and she pulls her into a hug. “Jesus, Jules, you’re an icicle. Here.” She slips the jacket off, and Julie almost feels bad for planning to steal her sweater.
Not that bad, though.
“Hi,” she says, smiling softly.
“How did it go?” Bella asks. She leans up for a kiss, and Julie quickly presses the brim of her head out of the way.
“Same as ever. Caught a couple red eyes, ran into a few black eyes and decided to wait before deciding.”
“No yellows?”
“Not as far as I know,” she says. She used to wonder if Bella was still hoping one of the Cullens would show up. Not so much any more. Bella is in her thirties, now, living in her dead grandma’s house, married, happy. She doesn’t miss the Cullens—not even him. She just wants to believe the best in everyone, even vampires. Maybe she’s right. Maybe there are more yellow eyes out there. It’s nice to remember optimism.
Julie kisses her again. “You should take the jacket,” she says. “You’ll need it more than me.” Maybe Bella doesn’t steal it so much as Julie mushes and gives it away. Embarrassing. If Leah saw her now, she’d never let her live it down.
“Going back to bed?”
“For a few hours. Then I’ll head to the garage, maybe go flirt with that cutie at the farmer’s market.”
“You’re so funny,” Bella says sarcastically. She kisses Julie’s dimples, though, so she must not be in too much trouble. “I’ll save you a cinnamon bun.”
Julie slips the jacket back around Bella’s shoulders and squeezes them. The acrid smell of vampire ashes is finally gone—all she can smell is the dahlias, and Bella’s strawberry-scented shampoo. “You didn’t leave me one in the kitchen?”
“Oh, I did,” she answered with a tiny grin. “But I know that vampire-hunting metabolism…”
“Ah, you’re no fun to tease. You always turn it back on me.”
Bella slipped her arms into the jacket sleeves. “You love it.”
She does. Still. “No fun, I tell ya.” She pushes past her to go inside, and lets herself be pulled to a stop when Bella catches her hand.
“Love you,” Bella says, and presses a kiss to her palm.
Julie tugs her in with that same hand and holds her again. “Love you,” she answers.
Despite the autumn chill, and the goosebumps on her arms, Julie is warm.