All characters belong to Stephenie Meyers

This is my first fan fic, so I'm a bit nervous. Please leave your reviews. If you have any criticism, it is welcomed, but please make it constructive .

Edward's POV

We had just moved to Fort Nelson, British Columbia from Abbot, Maine and I was going through the mundane task of unpacking boxes in my new room. I was going through one of the larger boxes which were filled with some of my favorite books. I hadn't touched many of them in years, except when I took them off the shelf to pack them away or unpack them as I was doing now. As I was unpacking this box I came across my very worn edition of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I flipped open the cover and sat down on my bed. Wow, I hadn't stopped to look at this book in a long time. While my memories from my human years were fuzzy, there were a few that remained crystal clear. One of those memories came flashing back to me as I opened the front cover of the book. I couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old when we started this tradition. It was of me and my mother sitting on the front porch at our home in Chicago. I was sitting in my mother's lap and she was reading to me. It was always at the end of the day after all the chores were complete and we were waiting for my Father to return home from work. There was always a small part of me that wanted him to be late so I could continue to sit with Mama and finish the story. This wasn't the only book we read, but it was the only one I still had in my possession.

As I started flipping through the book I couldn't help but think that my mother's hands had once thumbed through these same pages. I closed my eyes and I could almost hear her voice reading those words to me "We said there warn't no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a raft don't. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft." I could hear the tink of the glass of iced tea as she took a sip. I could feel her hand tapping my leg as she read. I'm not sure why she tapped my leg like that but I remember it, maybe a nervous habit? As I was about to close the book, as my emotions of remembering my mother were about to overtake me, a piece of paper fell to the floor from the back of the book.

It fell down face first…what could this be? I picked up the piece of paper and flipped it over, and there staring back at me were my mother's beautiful eyes. It was the photo of her I thought I had lost long ago. I had been heartbroken when I couldn't find it. We were moving from London, England to Sitka, Alaska. I searched and searched the house before we left looking for it. Carlisle finally convinced me that it was packed away in my things, but I never did find it even when we arrived in Sitka.

Those eyes. Though this picture was black and white, I could see the green in them instead of the pitch black that was portrayed in this photo. I had my mother's eyes when I was human, everyone always told me that. Thinking back on the memories of reading this book with my mother and then finding this long lost picture of her had me feeling emotions I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt a lump form in my throat and my eyes were beginning to burn. I missed her. While I loved my human father, there was just something about my mother's love that no one could ever replace or duplicate. Not Carlisle, not Esme. What I wouldn't give to be a boy again, just for one day. To savor those hot summer days, hearing her read to me, asking me "Are you enjoying the story, Edward?" Ah, to hear her say my name. Damn, I forgot how much I missed her. Forgot? Well maybe not forgot….let myself push it to the back of my mind, yes. If I dwelled on how much I missed her all the time, I'd be a mess.

I hadn't really noticed the venom tears that had started streaking my face, until one fell on the corner of the photo of my mother. It was then that memories of my mother, other memories, swirled to the surface of my mind. Memories that I thought had been tucked away forever. They weren't as deeply embedded as this memory of reading with her, they were really just flashes. Us in the kitchen talking and laughing…she loved to cook, singing with her as I played the piano….I buried my face in my hands, the memories had me now, I was sobbing. I was longing for an embrace from my mother.

Carlisle wasn't one to intrude, but I wasn't one to sit in my room and cry either. So I guess when he walked by my room and saw me there he couldn't help but stop to see what was wrong. I guess I had let my guard down, (and left the door to my room wide open) because I thought everyone was either out hunting or out shopping for the new house. I hadn't even heard him approach, I guess I was so caught up in my self-loathing that I didn't hear or smell him return to the house. A soft knock on the door to my room made his presence known. My tear stained face looked up to meet my father's golden eyes.

"I don't mean to intrude, Edward, but are you alright, son?"

Argh, I really didn't feel like talking, and even if I tried I would sound like a hiccupping little child trying to talk through my sobs. But it was Carlisle, he would understand. I looked back down at the photo and then held it out in front of me for Carlisle to see.

Carlisle took the picture "Ah, Elizabeth. You found your picture. Gosh how long ago was it misplaced? 40 some years now isn't it?" He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze "You're missing her?"

I nodded my head yes.

He handed the picture back to me and for some reason, maybe the combination of looking at the picture and having my father beside me, it caused the tears to fall even harder. I placed a balled up fist over my mouth to try to hold back the sobs, but then my shoulders started shacking. There was no holding it back now.

Carlisle grabbed me by either sides of my upper arms and gently lifted me from my seat on the bed, and pulled me into an embrace. I didn't resist, I actually welcomed it, embracing him back. He reached up and rubbed the nape of my neck, trying to soothe me. "It's OK to mourn your mother, Edward, don't be ashamed." He knew it wasn't like me to carry on like this and to be so open to affection. I openly cried in his arms and buried my face into the crook between his shoulder and his neck. His scent paired with his strong embrace was comforting.

"You know Edward, in all your years with me, I've never seen you take the time to really mourn the loss of your parents, especially your mother."

I couldn't explain it; I really hadn't mourned my mother. I don't know if it was because I didn't attend her funeral, I never actually saw her die or see her body after she had died. In my mind's eye, I only saw her alive and healthy. To imagine her otherwise made me, well…..I shuddered to think of it, and honestly I didn't want to.

I managed to muffle a few words into Carlisle's shoulder, "I haven't, Carlisle. I don't want to forget her."

"And you think mourning her will cause you to forget?"

"It's like it will make it final, like it really happened, if I allow myself to do that." My voice broke and my shoulders started shaking again as we continued in this embrace. I didn't want him to let go.

"Edward, my dear son, you will never forget your mother. I'm over 300 years old and I haven't forgotten my father."

"But you have bitter memories of your father, that's why you haven't forgotten those."

"No, son, I think you are mistaken. While yes they are bitter, I remember them, because I can't forget. They left such an impact on me that I can't shake them, no matter how old I get. I believe your mother has left such an impact on you that you won't soon forget her. I don't believe you will ever forget." He pulled me back a bit so that he could look me in the eye. As I kept my eyes down, looking at his venom stained shirt, he took his hand and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. "Son, you love your mother, and while your heart is unbeating it is still there, and you hold her love and memories there. You won't forget." He reached up and wiped a tear away from my cheek with his thumb.

He was right, there was no way I could forget my mother.

"Carlisle?" I asked as I reached up and wiped my face clean.

"Yes, son?"

"Do you think we might be able to take a trip to Chicago sometime?"

"Of course, what would you like to do in Chicago?"

"Well I know it may all be for nothing, but I'd like to search for my mother and father's graves. Do you think you might have an idea of where they are?"

"I hate to say it, but it really is unlikely to find them Edward. I can take you to where the hospital used to be. I know they buried some patients there that had no other family to carry out a proper burial. I'm not sure if the graves are marked in anyway, and if they were not marked then something has probably been built over the top of them."

"I'd like to go and at least try, if that's alright."

He pulled me back to his chest and embraced me one more time "You know I will take you to do anything you want or need. We'll try to locate them."

"Thank you, Carlisle….Father." I said with a small smile, hugging him back.

"I love you, Edward. Are you feeling better now? He asked as he pulled out of the hug. "I can stay longer if you need or I can go if you would like some time alone."

"I'm feeling much better, thanks. I'm just going to finish unpacking these boxes. I think I'll get a frame for the photo, so it doesn't get lost again."

"You know, son, there is such a thing as digital imaging now. You really should get that saved to a digital file. That way it won't be lost again." He said to me with a smile, reaching out and squeezing my shoulder once more.

I couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Um, yeah, I guess I really should do that."

"Alright then, I'll be in our bedroom unpacking boxes as well. If you need me I'll be there." He turned to leave, but I reached out and caught him by the arm before he could go.

"Dad, I love you too."

He smiled his big, my heart is going to explode smile, nodded his head and left my room.

I looked back down at the photo of my mother. Not really feeling any different than before, per se, I still longed to reach out for an embrace and to hear her say my name, to spend a day with her, but knowing I had Carlisle and Esme made it all seem more manageable. I couldn't be more thankful than to have been taken in by someone just as loving, but in a different way, as my mother.

I looked at the photo and spoke to it, hoping maybe in some way she could hear me. I love you Mom, and I miss you very much.