Сумерки

           Hisexpressionwasastrangemixoffrustrationanddefiance.

           Thenherevvedtheengine,andthetiressquealedagainstthewetpavement.TheVolvowasoutofsightinseconds.

           "Hey,Bella,"calledafamiliar,huskyvoicefromthedriver’ssideofthelittleblackcar.

           "Jacob?"Iasked,squintingthroughtherain.Justthen,Charlie’scruiserswungaroundthecorner,hislightsshiningontheoccupantsofthecarinfrontofme.

           Jacobwasalreadyclimbingout,hiswidegrinvisibleeventhroughthedarkness.Inthepassengerseatwasamucholderman,aheavysetmanwithamemorableface-afacethatoverflowed,thecheeksrestingagainsthisshoulders,withcreasesrunningthroughtherussetskinlikeanoldleatherjacket.Andthesurprisinglyfamiliareyes,blackeyesthatseemedatthesametimebothtooyoungandtooancientforthebroadfacetheyweresetin.Jacob’sfather,BillyBlack.Iknewhimimmediately,thoughinthemorethanfiveyearssinceI’dseenhimlastI’dmanagedtoforgethisnamewhenCharliehadspokenofhimmyfirstdayhere.Hewasstaringatme,scrutinizingmyface,soIsmiledtentativelyathim.Hiseyeswerewide,asifinshockorfear,hisnostrilsflared.Mysmilefaded.

           Anothercomplication,Edwardhadsaid.

           Billystillstaredatmewithintense,anxiouseyes.Igroanedinternally.HadBillyrecognizedEdwardsoeasily?Couldhereallybelievetheimpossiblelegendshissonhadscoffedat?

           TheanswerwasclearinBilly’seyes.Yes.Yes,hecould.