I don't know why this one took me so long! These mostly-dialogue chapters are always difficult for me, but I'm happy with how this turned out. And this will be a three-shot in the end. The focus is still on Esme taking her first college classes, but I like having that theme intersect with how some of the others are taking some new steps as well. And I know some of you have been wanting to see some Jasper–Esme bonding, so that fit the bill nicely here.

Also, announcement! I finally caved and posted a new collection called "Pomegranate Seeds." I've said for years that I prefer to stick to the prequel years, and I still do. Tale of Years will still just be prequels. But every now and then I do feel inspired to write something in in the saga timeline, and I thought it would be nice to have those snippets in a collection. I don't have much in there yet, but please follow that story if you'd like to keep up with it! It's sort of like this collection in that it'll just be random snippets, no particular order or POV or anything. I've started a chronological index in chapter 1 similar to the one for this collection, and that index also indicates where in the saga some of my other fics have fallen.

September 1957

Northern Michigan

Esme POV

The house was so quiet during the daytime now. Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett had started a new school year, and after changing her mind back and forth all summer, Alice had joined them. She had originally planned to stay home with Jasper when we first moved to Michigan and therefore hadn't existed in our original cover story. So the dashing young Dr. Cullen and his wife had decided to adopt once again.

It really was for the best; staying hidden didn't suit Alice one bit. She didn't care so much about being seen as getting to see. My newest daughter had begun feeding on animals and watching our daily lives like a television program long ago, but she was still new enough to living that life that playing human and being out in the real world were still interesting and funny to her. Getting to experience everything for the first time through her enthusiasm was a gift to all of us. And getting to see Rosalie's heart blossom as she guided her sister through so many of those new experiences was an even greater gift.

With all of them at school now and Carlisle focusing on research this time around, the house was almost too quiet. These slow, peaceful days did wonders for my painting. I often found myself losing hours at a time, surprised to find, when I came to my senses, that an entire cityscape or countryside had taken shape under my brush. When I had out my charcoal pencil instead, portraits of people I had never met seemed to sketch themselves without my permission. And just this past week, wild splashes of color had been sneaking onto the most unassuming of canvasses.

There were times I nearly forgot that Jasper was even here, he was so quiet. He, too, liked to lose himself in whatever he was studying or taking apart on any given day. His adventures in electronics had led to a few interesting glitches here and there, but it was worth every ruined circuit to see him enjoy the new peace he had found with us. And while the totality of his devotion to Alice was almost magical to be near, I thought it was very good for him to have some interests that were wholly his own.

So I gave a little jump of surprise when the long peace of my morning, spent humming over my new watercolors as I experimented with their concentration, was suddenly interrupted by a blood-curdling scream and a bestial roar. I raced down the hall to the stairs, fearing the worst, but after a few steps I laughed at myself when I realized the sounds were recorded. Jasper must be working on the latest project Carlisle had assigned him in his ongoing war against his thirst: watching horror movies.

Sure enough, I found him in his and Alice's study with the window shades drawn closed and our new film projector spinning its wheels. On the blank wall opposite where Jasper sat parked on his little blue couch, the massacre was quickly unfolding. The townspeople hadn't a chance against the...

"Zombies?" I guessed aloud.

"Right," Jasper said, setting aside the textbook that had been balanced on his lap. "I'm sorry, Esme, am I disturbing you? You didn't feel like you were painting..." He moved to get up, but I held up my hand.

"You're right, I wasn't. May I join you?"

He collected the rest of his things off the other half of the couch: the textbook, his notebooks and pen and papers, and something Alice-sized in blue satin.

"It's not exactly the highest quality cinema," he said.

"You aren't kidding," I said after a few minutes of low-budget horror. "Where did Carlisle find this one? A trash bin?"

He smiled a little, turning a page in his textbook and jotting something down. "Possibly."

I forced myself to watch the slaughter for a few more minutes. In the next scene, the camera was focused closely on a zombie would couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss or eat the screaming woman in his arms. He went for the meal in the end; I was quite disappointed.

"She's a zombie later on," Jasper assured me, "and they live happily ever... well, you know what I mean."

"How many times have you seen this one?"

"Three times. Carlisle says I'm supposed to keep watching each one until I can get through the whole thing without venom flow."

"Oh. And how are you doing... with that?"

Another scream sounded. The camera lens—and therefore a good portion of the wall we were watching the film on—was splashed with fake blood as a particularly clumsy zombie slashed his way through another screaming heroine. Jasper's eyes flicked back down to the book in his hands. He swallowed convulsively and his eyes darkened a shade while I watched. "Let's just say there's a double feature today. They're usually not colorized like this," he added, sounding apologetic.

"Oh, for heaven's sake."

Carlisle and his projects! I jumped up and crossed the room in a flash to stop the film projector from doing its projecting. "That's enough torture for one morning," I told him firmly. "At least that kind of torture. Why don't you join me on my errands today?"

Jasper hesitated, then smiled sheepishly and agreed to it. I had him carry boxful after boxful of canned and packaged foods out to the car: dry goods I'd slowly been accumulating over the past few months each time I went out to be seen shopping at the supermarket. It was time for another drop-off to the food bank.

"Want to drive?" I offered, holding out the keys. "You'll be the one doing the errands today. I'm just here to supervise."

"You're going to make me play human, aren't you?" he said with a smile. He took the keys and slid into the front seat.

"It's good for you. Carlisle's projects won't do you any good if you keep hiding at home all the time."

"I know that," he said, and I decided that was enough pushing.

"So," I said once we were rolling down the driveway at ten miles an hour. Jasper was new enough to driving that he was overly cautious, not quite trusting the car to hold itself together at decent speeds. "What do I feel like when I'm painting?"

Jasper carefully pulled out onto the highway, adjusting the mirrors for his height. "It feels... well, I think the best way to describe it is that it feels like you're telling a story, just without talking. It has all the rises and falls and bumps in the road like I would feel if you were describing a fairy tale." He glanced at me. "Although this week it's felt more like a thriller. Or a mystery."

"Speed up," I suggested. "You always want to keep up with the other cars. Hmm. My paintings have had a mind of their own lately. Maybe they're trying to tell me something."

"Something you're supposed to do?"

"Like what?"

He grinned, not taking his eyes off the road. "Alice told me about your plans to go to college this time around and how they came to nothing. I'm not the only one hiding at home right now, am I?"

I was taken aback; I was so used to Carlisle and Edward's gentle manners that Jasper's directness still surprised me sometimes.

"I'm sorry," he added right away. "That was—"

"Fair," I said. "It's true enough. I'm not sure what happened to those plans. I suppose with you staying home again this time, well..." I trailed off, adjusting the hem of my skirt on my knees.

Jasper shook his head. "You know I don't need to be babysat anymore—at home, at least—and I'm perfectly happy to spend my days alone. You do so much for all of us, Esme. If there's something you want to do for yourself, there's nothing stopping you."

I hummed to myself, trying to decide what I thought about that. "We'll stop at the market first. It's up there on the left, just after the light."

"Don't we have plenty of food already?"

"I still try to be seen shopping for food fairly often, and I divide it between two different stores. We can just deliver it with the rest."

We pulled into the supermarket parking lot and, after a reassuring peek up at the clouds, went inside. The minute we did, Jasper's easy manner evaporated. He held himself stiff as he walked, glancing constantly around at the other shoppers, up at the bright lights. I noticed after a few moments that he wasn't breathing anymore.

"You really aren't comfortable with this, are you?" I said with a frown. "When's the last time you were out in public like this? Indoors?"

"It's been a while," he said, using as little air as possible. "I went shopping with Alice last month, although those stores were a lot smaller. I don't think I've ever been in an indoor space this big and... crowded."

I decided to fill several bags with fresh fruit. Jasper was all thumbs about it at first, carelessly packing apples and tomatoes and grapes into one bruised mess of a bag, but he learned quickly. I chattered on about which fruits and vegetables were most appreciated by the food banks and why, but he was looking more uncomfortable every second.

His steps slowed to a stop when we passed the butcher. The young man working behind the counter was expertly wielding a long, serrated knife, flicking it in and out of the huge chunk of red meat on his counter. Little pools of bloody fluid had collected along the counter and the floor.

"You're staring," I whispered. "And the butcher probably isn't the best place for us to linger." Jasper swallowed and moved on.

"All it would take is one slip of that knife," he whispered back. He finally drew another breath. "You know I wouldn't be able to stop myself. And there are so many witnesses. Is it really worth the risk to bring me in here?"

"It'll be worth it as soon as we walk out the door," I said firmly. "You need to expose yourself like this far more often, or you're never going to build any confidence. Every time you walk out of a building and leave everyone alive is a success. And it'll be easier than this when you go to school," I added. "Most of the time, everyone will be sitting still and you won't have to worry about spontaneous bleeding."

Jasper shook his head, glancing back at a pair of children that were horsing around while their mother chatted with a friend. "I should have hunted first."

"You're fine," I insisted.

We went on for a few more minutes, but it really was crowded, and the tension was radiating off poor Jasper in waves now; I supposed we had better wrap it up. I took his hand, trying to focus on feeling calm for his sake. But instead I received a jolt of fear the instant I touched his skin.

"Fear?" I said in surprise. "Jasper—"

He yanked his hand out of mine and stalked right out the door.

I finished my shopping quickly, filling the cart with a few more piles of dry goods selected at random. When I got back outside, Jasper was leaning against the car door with his arms folded, looking perfectly human again and more apologetic than ever.

"I'm sorry," I said before he could say it first. "I was just trying to help. I shouldn't have touched you when you were already upset."

"It wasn't that," he said. "I just... it was time to get out of there. The horror film, the crowd, then the thing with the knife and the blood, and those two kids... And..." He took the cart from me without another word and busied himself getting the groceries into the trunk.

When we were back inside the car, he sat in thoughtful silence for another moment, fingering the leather cuff on his wrist, tracing the metal lines of the Cullen crest. "And it makes me ashamed," he said, finally looking me in the eye.

"Being afraid?"

"Being weak. It's been seven years, Esme. I should be stronger than this by now. I should be able to walk into a human space and do what you all do."

I thought he should too, but I did my best not to feel like it. Carlisle likened Jasper's struggle to human drug addiction more than anything else, and that didn't promise an easy "recovery," I supposed.

"You are able to do it," I said. "It's just harder for you. Maybe this was a bit much, after the horror film. And it really was crowded in there. But why the fear? Correct me if I'm wrong, but when you make a mistake, you aren't quite as... well, upset as some of us might be. Mistakes happen, so why fear them?"

"I fear the consequences. So far, we've been lucky. It's happened out in the woods with no witnesses. But what if it did happen in a place like this? Those witnesses would need to be taken care of." He looked away, squinting like he was looking at something in the distance. "I could do what needed to be done, in that case. But I don't like to think about how you all would feel about that. And what if it was even worse? What if I caused a real breach and it put us all in danger?"

"What if?" I sighed in agreement. "Those two little words have stopped so many of us from living, haven't they?"

Jasper sighed back, still staring out the windshield. But after a moment, the tension lifted. I smiled to feel the familiar shift toward a particularly dreamy happiness that could only mean one thing: he was thinking of Alice, of the day they had met and she had completely derailed his misery. It always felt like this.

"Diner Day?" I teased him, touching his sleeve.

He smiled. "You know me too well."

"Well enough to know that moping and inaction don't suit you," I pressed him. "I'm not saying this will be easy for you anytime soon. I'm just saying that you've got to press on and keep challenging yourself. Taking risks is the only way forward."

He digested that for a moment, then sat up straighter and started the engine. "Where are we going next?"

I raised an eyebrow. "So you're ready for more?"

"I don't feel ready," he admitted, "but let's go."

We compromised in the end. I steered him by way of the county park and pushed him out the door so he could go find something to take the edge off. He returned in just a few minutes, wearing a sour expression.

"Goose?" I guessed, trying not to laugh at him.

"Squirrel," he grumbled.

.

.

.

By the time we reached the food bank, Jasper was in better spirits. He told me about the correspondence course he was taking in continental philosophy. He had started taking his first class back in Oregon, registered under Emmett's name, so he'd had to start over once we moved here with new identities. He hadn't done very well on his first paper, but he was determined to improve.

"I just don't know what the professor is looking for," he admitted.

"You'll get the hang of it, I'm sure," I said. "After all, it's been a century or so, and you've never even been to high school in either of your lives. Just up there." I pointed out the food bank. Jasper swerved the car over a little too quickly, earning an angry chorus of car horns and slammed brakes. No one was hurt, but there was no hiding my panic at what had almost happened.

"I'm sorry… again," Jasper sighed, wrenched the keys out of the ignition, and tried to hand them to me. "I think you'd better"—he took one look at my shaky smile—"uh, let me drive home so I can practice more."

"Now you're getting the hang of it."

He smirked and jammed the keys back into his pocket. We opened the trunk and carried the first boxes in to the food bank.

"Good morning, George!" I called out. The elderly volunteer backed out of the aisle he had been working in and began to limp toward me.

"Mrs. Cullen," he said with his usual rheumy smile. "Oh, let me help you with that—!"

"It's quite all right," I said. I piled my box on top of the one in Jasper's arms. After a split second, he remembered to act like the load had just gotten heavier. "I have a lot today, so I brought a helper. This is my husband's nephew, Jasper. He's visiting us for the week before he heads off to school."

"How do you do," Jasper said warily.

"Good for you, young man!" George said, limping on out to the car. "Nice to see some young folks getting involved. What school? What're you studying?"

Jasper looked to me for an answer. "Wayne State," I said without missing a beat. "Jasper, have you chosen a major yet?"

"Um… philosophy?" he said.

George was already digging around in the trunk of my car. "That's nice… oh, tuna fish! That's just what we need. Hey! Come over here and help me, sonny."

Jasper stood awkwardly holding out his hands to receive box after box, intently watching George as the old man worked.

"Thirst okay?" I asked under my breath.

"Just fine," Jasper whispered back. "I'll tell you later."

Since he seemed more comfortable, I asked George to give us a little tour of the warehouse. It was good for Jasper to spend some time around an individual human without the strain, and the reminder that humanity was capable of good things couldn't hurt either. Learning how to see them as people was a big part of his struggle. He kept surprisingly close to George the whole time, listening with rapt attention.

"All right," I said when we were back in the car. "Next stop…" Deep breath. "The university."

"You mean Wayne State? Isn't that down in Detroit?"

"That's the one."

Jasper looked slightly panicked. "I thought we were just using that as the cover story. I don't think—"

"We're not going for you. We're going for me."

"Oh. So you're ready to do this?"

"I don't feel ready," I said, "but let's go."

.

.

.

"You really are afraid, aren't you?" Jasper said after five minutes of sitting in the college parking lot had gone by. "Can I ask why?"

I looked down at my skirt and began to smooth out the wrinkles I had made with my fists. "I'm not exactly sure," I admitted. "I just am. Could you…?"

"Of course."

After a moment, my insides started to relax. Another moment, and I began to feel stronger, even physically; it was a wonder that Jasper's gift could do that. I took a few more slow breaths.

"All right," I said, throwing the door open. "Let's go before I remember that this courage is just pretend." Jasper had to jog to catch up with me and we marched right in. The next thing I knew, I was signed up for three Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes: Introduction to Art History, Seminar in Art Analysis, and Problems in Art History. The registrar warned me that the classes had already started and that I might not be able to catch up. I boldly informed him of my confidence. He also tried to talk me into taking what he called "general subjects" before getting myself in too deep with the art courses, but I was unstoppable. Jasper stood close by the whole time, silently keeping my courage afloat.

"What an unpleasant man," he said when we were outside again.

"Do you think he could tell that I had no idea what I was doing?"

He thought for a moment. "I think it had more to do with the fact that you were a woman. I know what that particular kind of disdain feels like."

"You do?"

"From my years with Maria. We had a lot of newborns over the years who couldn't quite grasp the idea of taking orders from a woman, especially a beautiful Mexican woman who didn't even come up to their chin." He let out a low chuckle and ran his fingers along one of the scars on the side of his neck. "Naturally, I made the same mistake in the beginning, though I didn't make it for long. Don't pay him any mind, Esme."

We were already halfway home before I spoke again. "I did it," I breathed.

"You did," he said with a smile.

"It's a shame you can't come with me to all my classes," I said, only half joking. "I supposed the achievement of signing up really isn't all that much compared to that."

"I helped you less than you probably think I did. But I'm still curious why you were so afraid to do it… why you're still afraid now."

There was that directness again. My fist found its way back to my skirt. "Oh… I don't know. It sounds silly next to what you deal with, but I really do feel nervous about accidentally hurting someone. And also about being more involved in the human world. I have my errands and things, but spending hours at a time in their world… I suppose after all this time I still don't feel that I'm very good at pretending to be one of them. Going to the grocery store isn't exactly a challenge in that way."

"From my perspective, you're very good at it," Jasper said. "Look at the rapport you had with that human at the food bank, and we've only been here a few months."

"Oh, George," I said with a fond smile. "He's so easy to get along with."

"His emotions were a real pleasure to be near. That's what I was so focused on earlier. Being near him reminded me of something I haven't thought about in a long time… Back when Peter and Charlotte came for me in '41 and I was able to leave the wars, it was such a revelation to finally be free. To exist for myself and do whatever I felt like doing. One of my favorite things to do was to spend time around humans who were feeling something nice. I had never had any free time to myself before, and all the humans I spent any time near were in a constant state of terror. At least," he added wryly, "they were after meeting me. It was such a nice change to be able to choose which humans to be around, to seek out good emotions and leave the humans in peace."

"And now you can do it again," I told him, "if you work hard at being around them and controlling yourself. Oh Jasper, sometimes when I think of all you've been through…" My heart ached for my newest son all over again. I wanted to throw my arms around him and protect him, but I knew he didn't like me to fuss. "I just want you to be happy," I sighed, letting my feelings say the rest. He glanced over at me with a small smile and an even smaller nod.

"We've all been through tough times," he said. "You especially."

"Yes," I agreed. "Hmm… I think that might be another reason this is so scary."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I began, but my throat started to squeeze shut because there was Charles again, taking up far too much space in my mind. And there went my fingers twisting the fabric of my skirt again—it was a miracle it hadn't torn yet. "Could I have another dose of courage, please?"

"Anytime."

I felt better after a moment; it made it easier to think. "I guess because… this is the sort of thing I never could have done in my first life. First with my parents and then with Ch… with my human husband. Not that I would have even thought of going to college back then, at least once I was married. It wasn't the thing to do. Doing anything on my own like this…" I shook my head, frustrated. Jasper reached over and touched the back of my hand. A strange, cold numbness spread over my anxiety, and just like that, everything was clear as day.

"Did you know that I wanted to be a teacher?" I blurted out.

"No," Jasper said with surprise. "Did you ever get to do it?"

"I did, actually, for a short time. After I left Charles, I found work as a kindergarten teacher and kept it up until just before I had my baby. It wasn't a real teaching job, of course, and I had no real training. They were only letting me substitute because the real teacher was out sick for a while. As it turned out, she was busy having her own baby, and she never came back afterwards. So I got to keep the job for several more months, on a substitute's pay, of course." I sighed. "I'm sure I wasn't very good at it. But I loved the children dearly, and I remember the thrill of it, finally doing something I had always wanted to do."

"Do you still want to be a teacher?"

I thought about that for a minute. "I don't think so. My girlhood dream of being a teacher might have been more about wanting adventure. I wanted to leave my family and go out west to do it. I guess it was the only job I could think of that a woman could do alone like that. I did enjoy that one teaching job later on, but now I have other interests. And it's more about the adventure than anything else."

"Adventure," Jasper echoed, mulling over the word. "Maybe I should try looking at things that way more often. So what do you want to do now? Is there a job these classes will help you do?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "For now, I'm just interested in learning more. And this might sound funny, but as much as I love Carlisle and as supportive as he is… this is something I had to do by myself. I think one of the reasons I was nervous today is that I haven't talked to him about doing this. Not since we moved here, anyway."

Jasper frowned, looking over his shoulder to back us onto the skinny dirt road that served as our driveway. "You think he would disapprove?"

"No, not at all! I'm sure he would have cheered me on, had he known I was thinking about it. It's not about him as a person. It's about signing up for something like this without telling my husband first. Without asking him first. No, that's not right either… It was about being able to do this without talking to him about it and really believing that it was all right to do that. Yes, that's it." That was what had felt so strange over the past few weeks: knowing that I was finally ready for this, despite my nerves.

"You feel better already, don't you?" Jasper said.

"I do," I said in surprise. "Thank you for helping me say that to myself, Jasper. Though I still wouldn't mind keeping your gift in my purse on my first day."

"I'll see what I can do," he said with that sideways grin that meant he was in a very good mood.

We pulled up to the house. Carlisle was standing there by the garage, waiting for us with a curious smile and a bouquet of yellow roses clutched in his hands: my favorite. I felt a little pang of disappointment that Alice had already told him the news, but I jumped out of the moving car into his arms anyway and eagerly accepted his kiss, feeling almost giddy with relief.

"Alice called me from the school and told me to stand here at precisely one o'clock," he said. "And that flowers were in order...?"

"Oh! I thought she told you." I stood on my tiptoes and whispered my news in his ear.

"Esme," he said, studying me in that way that made his eyes seem suddenly brighter. Like he was discovering something new and wonderful. He swept me up in his arms again and spun us around, scattering yellow petals along the way.