The van is pulled off the side of the road, the hood up and a red bandana tied to the radio antenna in a universal symbol for stranded motorist as the car pulls around the curve. Pulling up to the vehicle, he's surprised to see a young woman who appears not to be any older than his daughters glaring at the engine, her hands on her hips.
"Oh come on you damn piece of junk, you had to pick now to die on me when we're nearly there?" She resists the urge to kick a tire, it would only hurt her foot and she'd look foolish hopping around on one foot, she'd probably end up falling on her ass in the mud recent rain has turned the dirt road. She eeps, startled when a voice is suddenly heard next to her.
"Are you having trouble?" The man in the drivers seat asks through the open window.
"This damn piece of junk my brother loaned me up and died on me." She grumbles. "Can you tell me if I'm anywhere near. . . .?" she rattles off an address near his home.
"You're about five miles from there, I happen to live nearby. I can give you a lift if you want?"
"Thanks, I can come have somebody get this heap. Have a real mechanic look at it instead of my brother who only thinks he's a mechanic." Opening the door, she reaches across the seat and grabs a couple of duffel bags, slamming the hood and locking the doors with the keyring before sliding through the door the driver holds open for her. "Thanks again, I wasn't sure if anybody was going to come this way and didn't want to end up sleeping in the van." she looks up at the darkening sky. "How much rain do you guys get around here, anyway?"
"A lot." He says calmly. "Not to many people live out this way, you're lucky I came when I did." He holds out his hand. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen."
"Greta Logan." She firmly shakes his hand and he's sad to see that she's even younger than he thought. A beep from her jacket pocket has her reaching for her phone. "Just the person I wanted to talk to." she says when whoever is on the other end starts talking. "Your van died on me five miles before I got to the house, I'll have somebody who really knows what they're doing bring it in and look at it." She listens again and snickers. "No, I think it's a little far for Henry to come pick it up, but if I head that way I'll have him look at it." She listens again. "Yes Blair, I promise to try to stay out of trouble. A neighbor came by and gave me a lift."
"Is your family waiting for you?" Carlisle asks when she ends the call, sliding the phone back into her pocket. He hadn't realized that anybody had brought the old house, let alone saw moving vans.
"No, my family is scattered around the country. I'm on a trip to 'find myself'"she makes quotation marks in midair as they pull into Carlisle's driveway. "We brought this place a couple months ago. There should be a generator and a stock of canned goods, I'll have to get some groceries when the van is back up and running."
"Come have dinner with us then." Carlisle says quietly. "Your house is a couple of miles up the road that way." he points up the road and Greta shields her eyes from the rain that started falling again. "It's the only other house out this way."
"Of course my family would buy a house out in the middle of nowhere." Greta mumbles, shaking her head as she follows him into the house.
Esme looks up from her mending when two sets of feet walk into the house. One must be Carlisle, but the other. . . has a heartbeat. She gets up and walks to the door to find her husband and young girl standing in the front room. Carlisle brings a towel in from the half-bath off the living room and they dry themselves off.
"Esme, this is Greta Logan, her family brought the house up the road. Her brother's van died five miles down the road, I offered her a ride and dinner. Greta, this is my wife Esme."
"Your husband saved me from walking in this rain or sleeping in the van overnight." the young woman says softly, taking the towel and wiping her face and hands.
"Is your family waiting for you?" Esme asks, looking at her husband over Greta's bent head as she fights with the zipper on her hooded jacket. He shakes his head quickly.
"Oh no, I'm the only one who's going to be up there if you're worried about noise." Greta says quickly. "The rest of my family is scattered around the country, the family brought the house as a vacation place. I'm on the great american roadtrip," Greta makes quotation marks in mid-air. "I visited my brother in Cascade and borrowed his van to get up here for a couple of weeks, I'm off to visit my sister in Oregon when I get tired of staring at the walls here."
Esme nods, now she knows why Carlisle brought the young girl home with him. "And your parents?"
"My Dad's back in New York."
Greta finally gets her jacket open, tossing back the hood allowing Carlisle and Esme to see her pure white hair. She slips off her jacket, rolling it into a ball and stuffing it in a side pocket of her duffel bag.
/She's so thin/ is Esme's first thought when she sees Greta without the bulk of the jacket. /Why did her father let her travel around the country by herself?/
Carlisle shakes his head sadly, he hadn't realized how much that bulky jacket had hid. The door behind them open and Edward, Emmett, and Rosalie run into the house, stopping midstep when they see the stranger standing beside Esme.
"Who's she?" Rosalie asks rudely.
"Rosalie." Esme says shocked as Greta grins. "Where are your manners?"
"Nope, she's Rosalie." Greta smirks as she points a finger at the blonde who just entered the house. "I'm just Greta."