Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters, I still own my camera.

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence." - Ansel Adams

My fingers brush over the row of fabrics hanging in my closet. Tonight Jasper is taking me out for my birthday. Where, I have no idea. He said somewhere laid back, and my only instructions were to wear comfortable shoes and to be ready at nine. I'm not really the primping type anyway, so casual I will be. I pull out my favorite pair of jeans and a crimson top. I know the color looks nice against my skin, and while I don't like to primp, I do like to look good.

It's twenty to nine now, and I feel the anticipation building in my stomach. As disappointed as I am that my dad couldn't have the weekend off, I'm excited about a night out with Jasper. I'm just throwing on some lip gloss and mascara when I hear my phone ring.

"Daddy?"

"Hey honey, happy birthday."

"You realize you're just a few hours early. Or did you confuse me with one of your other offspring?"

"Ha ha," he deadpans. "You know you're my one and only. And after what you put me through, I'd have been a fool."

"Whatever," I laugh, because we both know that's a lie. "So why are you calling tonight? I wasn't expecting you until in the morning."

"Well, things are pretty quiet around the station tonight. Deputy Black just sent out the pictures of their new little one, and they made me miss my little girl."

I smile, because I like that he still thinks of me as his little girl. I still call him Daddy, and I'm not ashamed. He always tries to make my birthday extra special, and I always pretend I can't tell how much pain this day is tinged with for him. He always told me he lost his love, but gained another. I always hoped I was worth it. He says I'm worth everything, and that's good enough for me.

"Plus, I figured you girls would probably be sleeping in after a margarita night. Thought I'd stay out of your hair."

"Oh," I begin. I don't want to lie to him, but I'm not sure how to bring up Jasper. "Actually, Ang ended up going to the lake with Ben for the weekend."

"You aren't all alone, are you? Why didn't you come up for the weekend?"

"No, I won't be alone. I'm going out."

I pause and hear silence on the other end.

"I sort of have a date, I think."

"A date, huh? That sounds like fun. Who's the boy? Do I know him?"

"No, he's one of my classmates. His name is Jasper."

"And… are you gonna tell me about this 'Jasper' or will I have to run a background check?"

I hear him typing gibberish very loudly on his keyboard, and I laugh in spite of myself.

"Very funny, Dad. Not necessary, but I'll keep your enthusiasm in mind. He's a perfect gentleman. He called me "Miss Bella" the first time we met."

"Oh, poor kid. I hope you weren't too hard on him."

"Don't be silly, I'm only hard on you. Do you want to hear this or not?"

"I'm sorry, go on."

"Anyway, his name is Jasper, and he's in one of my classes and my darkroom period. He's my age, or at least he will be after midnight. His dad died when he was little, and his relationship with his mom is… complicated. His little sister lives with him now. He's…"

I pause, because I really don't know much more than that. I don't know how to explain the intensity of what I feel for Jasper, the physical pull, the connection to him. I can't explain it to myself or Jasper, let alone my father. I wonder if this is how he felt about my mom, and I feel an ache in my chest because seeing my parents happy together is one more thing I've missed out on.

"He sounds like a nice boy, Bella."

"He is, a very nice boy. I don't know how to explain it. He's just… different. I really like him."

Again all I hear on the line is silence, mixed with my dad's slow breathing. I'm about to speak when he does, quietly.

"I'm happy for you, honey. He sounds alright."

I imagine what I might see in his eyes, in the worn lines of his face, if he were standing in front of me instead of on a phone 200 miles away. I hear the pain in his voice, the longing. The ache he feels for her which never goes away. It hurts me to see it, but at the same time it's nice to know that that kind of love exists. The kind that can't be stopped by death or distance, only delayed.

"He's much more than 'alright,' Daddy," I say, and it's the best way I can explain at this point. "I better go though, he should be here in a couple minutes."

"Alright honey, have a good time. Be careful."

"Always am, you know that."

"You still have that pepper spray I gave you for Christmas last year?" He asks, a smile in his voice.

"Ha, ha. I'm hanging up now, Charlie."

"Alright, alright. I love you, Bella. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Daddy. I love you, too."

I hang up, smiling to myself and missing my dad. I don't have long to wait though, because I hear a knock at my door. I grab my clutch and answer it.

I'm met by blue eyes, bright with excitement, and a smile which causes my stomach to flutter. He asks me if I'm ready to go, and I tell him I am. He looks me up and down brazenly, his eyes lingering on my feet.

"When I said 'comfortable shoes,' I didn't really intend for you to go barefoot."

"Oops," I laugh, blushing. "I got a little distracted. Just give me a minute. You can come in, make yourself comfortable."

Jasper nods and walks inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He looks curious yet uncomfortable as he surveys my small living room. I run back to my bedroom, leaving him perusing my bookshelves.

I look through my closet quickly, pausing when I notice my cowboy boots. With a smile and a bit of a chuckle, I grab some socks, reach for my boots, and pull them on.

When I walk back into my living room, Jasper is watching me. He laughs at the boots, because now we're matching. I take his hand, running my fingers softly over the scars I find there. He tenses almost imperceptibly, then relaxes as he watches my fingers for a moment, looking contented.

"So where are we going?"

"Somewhere 'definitely Austin.'"

His hand grips mine more tightly, and we are off.

My foot is tapping excitedly on the sidewalk as we wait in line outside the Continental Club. I know I didn't tell him it's my favorite live music venue, but I can't hide my enthusiasm now.

"Is this okay?" he asks. "You look nervous."

"No, it's perfect, I love it here. Just nervous-excited."

Pride flashes across his features, and my heart races in response.

We walk into the club together, his hand resting gently on the small of my back. The atmosphere is intense as always. It's a small venue, intimate when crowded, and it's always crowded. It's still a little early; the main act won't take the stage until at least 10. Tonight it's a local jazz ensemble rocking out arrangements from Duke Ellington's songbook, and the excitement in the air is palpable.

He grabs a local microbrew for me, a soda water for himself, and we claim a small table up against the wall. The entire wall is one long bench with several tiny tables along it, so seating is quite cozy. Jasper and I are sitting close; I feel his body against the entire length of mine. We sit awkwardly for a moment, sipping our drinks and making stilted conversation over the music. His arm moves to rest behind my shoulders, and the small gesture seems to relax the entire situation. I feel comfortable, safe, and wanted. I relax into him, leaning gently against his chest.

The jazz ensemble finally takes the stage, and the crowd is ready for action.

I feel Jasper's fingers tapping against my shoulder, matching the rhythm of the percussion. My body is alive with the energy of the room.

He leans in close to be heard over the music.

"Do you like jazz?" he murmurs, and the sound of his deep voice sends shivers up my neck.

I turn to speak into his ear, my lips brushing against his cheek on the way.

"I love it."

"Dance with me?"

I nod, and he takes my hand. We slide carefully out of our booth and make our way to the small open area. There isn't much room for dancing, but there's enough. I feel his eyes on me as I start to dance, the rhythmic swing of the music driving my movements.

Before long, I feel him move in behind me. His hands rest tentatively on my hips, and mine move to cover them. I feel his chest against my back, his breath moving across my neck, under my ear. His hands slowly increase their pressure until he's holding me firmly against his body. I lean back against his chest and we sway gently together: I'm lost in the music, the motion, the man behind me.

He pulls away eventually. I vaguely register that time has passed, songs have begun and ended. He takes my hand and leads me back to our table. We relax into our seats again; this time his arm is immediately around my shoulder and my hand rests on his knee. His fingers drum against my skin as we take in the rest of the set in quiet appreciation. When it's over, he silently leads me back outside and to the car.

"So what's next, Mr. Whitlock?"

"Kerbey Lane?"

"Pancakes?"

"Pancakes."

"Perfect."

"Exactly."

It's almost midnight when we walk into the cafe, but we still have to wait for a table. Jasper rests his hand on my hip as I lean into him. He's lowly humming bits of the music from earlier, though I don't think he realizes it. We're finally seated and he leads me to our table, his hand in mine. I feel somehow grounded by the constant contact, and I relish it.

Our table is tucked away in a secluded corner in the back of the restaurant. The room is quietly buzzing, but a different sort of energy than the club. It's mellow and homelike, and I smile because that's exactly how I feel whenever I'm here. Jasper is still humming, quietly, as he looks over the menu.

We both order pancakes, because you can't come to Kerbey Lane and not order pancakes. Especially after midnight.

"One gingerbread, one pumpkin?" he asks, looking amused.

"They taste like fall when you eat them together. Don't judge. You and your boring buttermilk."

"Boring? Buttermilk isn't boring, it's classic."

"Boring."

He shakes his head, laughing, and gives up the argument. Victory. He reaches out and takes my hand, which was lying on the table.

"So, are you having a good birthday so far?"

"One of the best," I offer. His eyes light up in response. I watch as they dart to something behind me, and he looks worried for a moment. He squeezes my hand a little tighter.

"Okay, don't freak out… they're not going to sing. But you can't have a birthday without candles," he explains, and I can't help but smile at the insecurity I see before me.

Our waitress brings our pancakes, and three flickering candles adorn my short stack. My thumb moves over his hand as I try to reassure him. This moment is priceless and adorable, and I don't want him to worry about my reaction. I watch the light of the candles dance in his eyes, and I'm momentarily lost.

"You aren't going to cry now, are you?" he asks, and I see amusement now in place of concern.

"Not a chance. I told you, I'm a big girl now."

"Happy birthday, Bella," he says. "Make a wish."

I glance down at my candles, but all I can think about is the boy sitting across from me, holding my hand so gently. I look back up at him, but he's not there. His empty eyes have lost focus, staring somewhere over the candles. I want him here with me, not just in body but in mind and soul. I want all of him. I close my eyes, and exhale.

–*–*–

July 19, 1995 (Jasper is 8, Rosie is 2)

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, dear Jasper

Happy birthday to you!"

We were all sitting at the kitchen table when my mom set my birthday cake down in front of me. It was chocolate and yellow swirl with chocolate frosting. I knew because I watched her make it this morning.

"Make a wish, sweetheart," Mom said, and she looked so happy right then.

Everyone did. Rosie was laughing and clapping. She had been talking about having "happy cake" for my "happy birthday" all week long. She was so excited. Dad was holding her on his lap and he was smiling at me, too. He told me this morning that I was practically the man of the house now that I was eight. He said he was proud of me for being such a good big brother to Rosie and helping my mom so much.

I closed my eyes and I couldn't really think of anything to wish for at first. All I could think about was how happy everyone looked. So I wished that one day I'd be a dad with a happy family of my own. And I wished for a basketball hoop in the driveway.

I opened my eyes and looked around at my family again.

"Hey Rosie, you ready to help me blow the candles out?" I asked, because we had been practicing all week. I taught her how to do it the right way when she turned two in April.

"I weddy! One, two, twee!"

We both took a deep breath and blew, and all the candles went out. I smiled at Rosie, and she clapped and cheered 'hip hip hooray.'

I took all my candles off one at a time and licked the frosting off of them. I let Rosie have two, because she was two. And she was my baby sister and it made her happy.

"Happy buffday, Jasp-uh," said Rosie.

"Thanks, sweetie. You ready for happy cake?"

She nodded and clapped again. Mom brought in a big knife and started cutting pieces for everyone. She handed me a plate first, and I put it in front of Rosie. Dad told me that gentlemen always let ladies go first. Even if it was your birthday.

My cake looked perfect. The swirled kind was my favorite, so Mom always made it for my birthday. It was Dad's favorite too, and his birthday was just last week so we've had a lot of marble cake lately. That's what Mom says swirled cake is called. I guessed it sort of did look like the inside of some of my marbles.

We finished eating our cake really fast. Rosie got it all over her face and in her hair somehow, so mom took her to give her a bath before her nap.

"Come with me," Dad told me. "I have a special present for you."

I followed him into the living room and watched while he pulled a box off the top shelf of the closet. It wasn't very big, like maybe a couple of video tapes would fit inside. He went and sat in his big leather armchair by the fireplace and waved me over. I was too big to sit on his lap now, so I started to sit on the footrest in front of him. He picked me up and sat me on his knee, though, and I smiled. Even though I liked being grown up, sometimes it was nice just to be a little kid.

"I've been waiting to give this to you for awhile now, Jasper. I think you're old enough to appreciate it now, and I want you to have it. It's something very special to me and I expect you to take good care of it."

"Of course I will, Dad."

"I know you will."

He handed me the box and I just held it for a minute. I turned it around in my hands a few times. It was really heavy, whatever it was. Definitely not movies. I unwrapped it slowly and carefully. I couldn't believe what I saw inside, and my mouth hung wide open while I stared at it.

"What's the matter? Don't you like it?"

I watched my dad, and he looked like I hurt his feelings.

"Of course I do, I like it a lot. But… it's yours. I don't understand why you're giving it to me."

He pulled his old camera out of the box I was still holding and put the empty box on the floor. He looked down at the camera and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He looked happy and sad at the same time.

"I'm giving it to you because it's special to me, and so are you. I've seen the way you watch me when I'm taking pictures. This is something I want to share with you. Something that makes me happy."

He took the strap and put it around my neck before he handed me the camera. For some reason it felt heavier than it did just a minute ago when it was in the box. I guessed it was pretty cool that he wanted me to have something so important. I looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled right back at me.

"I don't know how to use it, though."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll teach you."

We spent a long time right there, in his big armchair. He showed me all the buttons and how to put the film in the right way. I watched really carefully with that part because he said it was the most important thing. If you didn't put the film in the right way, nothing else mattered.

"This part is called the lens. You turn the focus ring here on the lens to focus on whatever you're taking a picture of."

"What does 'focus' mean?"

"You want whatever is most important in the picture to be sharp and clear, just like you were looking at it right in front of your face and not in a picture. If something isn't in focus, it's blurry, and you won't be able to see it very well."

He held the camera up to my eye and I watched while he turned the lens to focus. I was looking at the flowers on Mom's coffee table, and when he turned it they went from really fuzzy blobs of color, to flowers, and back to blobs.

"Wait, they're blurry again, you missed it."

"I can't see what I'm doing. Why don't you try it now?"

He handed me the camera, putting the strap back around my neck. I held the camera up to my eye so I could see through it, and pointed it over at the table again. I saw the flower blobs sitting there, and started to turn the lens. I went too far and they got blurry again, but after a few tries I learned to just turn it a little bit at a time. When they finally just looked like flowers, I pushed the button and heard the camera click.

"I did it!"

"You did it," he said, and he looked so happy again. He told me to go on and practice, so I hopped down off his lap and went to find more things to take pictures of.

Rosie was still asleep, so I went to the kitchen where my mom was making dinner. I snuck up behind her and watched her at the stove, through the camera. She was moving a lot so it was harder than the flowers, but I finally got it right and pushed the button. She jumped when she heard the noise and turned around.

"Oh Jasper, sweetie, you scared me," she said, but then she saw the camera. "Do you like your present? Daddy was so excited to give it to you."

"I love it, Mom. Thanks."

She smiled at me before she turned around to finish cooking.

I heard Rosie talking in her room so I told Mom I'd go get her up. When I went in, she was sitting in her crib, holding her baby doll. She loved that baby like it was a real one; she was always pretending to feed her and stuff. She didn't hear me come in until the camera clicked, and then she stood up and started laughing. I picked her up and set her down next to me.

"Hey Rosie, look what Daddy gave me for my birthday!"

"Wooooow," she said, and she looked really impressed.

"You want to go on an adventure with me?"

She nodded, and her eyes were still huge and round and it looked like she was saying "oh."

"Okay sweetie, we're looking for really cool stuff to take pictures of. I'm gonna follow you, so let's go in the backyard and you can find me something really cool, okay?"

She nodded again and smiled, and I took her hand to walk outside. It was kind of hot outside but we were having fun so we didn't care. I followed her all around the backyard. She loved helping her big brother with things because it made her feel like a big girl, so she was really excited. She found lots of bugs and flower and rocks and stuff, and I even let her push the button a few times.

It started getting dark then and Mom called us inside for dinner. We all sat down at the table except for Dad. He picked up the camera, stood across the table from me and Rosie, and told us to get close together. Mom came and knelt down behind me and Rosie and put her arms around us.

"Okay, everyone say 'happy birthday!'"

"Happy birthday!" we all yelled.

He clicked the button, and Mom leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you so much."

I smiled, and I didn't even wipe the kiss off.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Reviews are love. :)

Thank you to my betas jackbauer aka staceygirl and justaskalice.

Happy holidays! See you next week.