He held it over my door while I opened it.
"Charlie called–said you were on your way," Jacob explained with a grin.
Effortlessly, without a conscious command to the muscles around my lips, my answering smile spread across my face. A strange feeling of warmth bubbled up in my throat, despite the icy rain splattering on my cheeks.
"Hi, Jacob."
"Good call on inviting Billy up." He held up his hand for a high five.
I had to reach so high to slap his hand that he laughed.
Harry showed up to get Billy just a few minutes later. Jacob took me on a brief tour of his tiny room while we waited to be unsupervised.
"So where to, Mr. Goodwrench?" I asked as soon as the door closed behind Billy.
Jacob pulled a folded paper out of his pocket and smoothed it out. "We'll start at the dump first, see if we can get lucky. This could get a little expensive," he warned me. "Those bikes are going to need a lot of help before they'll run again." My face didn't look worried enough, so he continued. "I'm talking about maybe more than a hundred dollars here."
I pulled my checkbook out, fanned myself with it, and rolled my eyes at his worries. "We're covered."
It was a very strange kind of day. I enjoyed myself. Even at the dump, in the slopping rain and ankle-deep mud. I wondered at first if it was just the aftershock of losing the numbness, but I didn't think that was enough of an explanation.
I was beginning to think it was mostly Jacob. It wasn't just that he was always so happy to see me, or that he didn't watch me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for me to do something that would mark me as crazy or depressed. It was nothing that related to me at all.
It was Jacob himself. Jacob was simply a perpetually happy person, and he carried that happiness with him like an aura, sharing it with whoever was near him. Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. No wonder I was so eager to see him.
Even when he commented on the gaping hole in my dashboard, it didn't send me into a panic like it should have.
"Did the stereo break?" he wondered.
"Yeah," I lied.
He poked around in the cavity. "Who took it out? There's a lot of damage…" "I did," I admitted.
He laughed. "Maybe you shouldn't touch the motorcycles too much."
"No problem."
According to Jacob, we did get lucky at the dump. He was very excited about several grease-blackened pieces of twisted metal that he found; I was just impressed that he could tell what they were supposed to be.
From there we went to the Checker Auto Parts down in Hoquiam. In my truck, it was more than a two hour drive south on the winding freeway, but the time passed easily with Jacob. He chattered about his friends and his school, and I found myself asking questions, not even pretending, truly curious to hear what he had to say.
"I'm doing all the talking," he complained after a long story about Quil and the trouble he'd stirred up by asking out a senior's steady girlfriend. "Why don't you take a turn? What's going on in Forks? It has to be more exciting than La Push."
"Wrong," I sighed. "There's really nothing. Your friends are a lot more interesting than mine. I like your friends. Quil's funny."
He frowned. "I think Quil likes you, too."
I laughed. "He's a little young for me."
Jacob's frown deepened. "He's not that much younger than you. It's just a year and a few months."
I had a feeling we weren't talking about Quil anymore. I kept my voice light, teasing. "Sure, but, considering the difference in maturity between guys and girls, don't you have to count that in dog years? What does that make me, about twelve years older?"
He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Okay, but if you're going to get picky like that, you have to average in size, too. You're so small, I'll have to knock ten years off your total." "Five foot four is perfectly average." I sniffed. "It's not my fault you're a freak."
We bantered like that till Hoquiam, still arguing over the correct formula to determine age–I lost two more years because I didn't know how to change a tire, but gained one back for being in charge of the bookkeeping at my house–until we were in Checker, and Jacob had to concentrate again. We found everything left on his list, and Jacob felt confident that he could make a lot of progress with our haul.
By the time we got back to La Push, I was twenty-three and he was thirty–he was definitely weighting skills in his favor.