A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's taking the time to read this. My goal is to post two chapters a week, so there should be a new one up this Friday. I hope that everyone who celebrates has a lovely Thanksgving!

Big thanks & love to my own personal dream team: Char, Gin, Caren & Ash - they help make my words purdy and my ideas not suck so bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just come up with random things for them to do.

Edward

"A large latte, please," I say after peering up at the colorfully decorated chalkboard for a moment. "And a cinnamon-raisin scone ."

I look back down into a pair of deep brown, penetrating eyes. This brown isn't dull or drab. In fact, it's vibrant, sparkling with life, and I can't help but turn my lips up into a smile at the sight.

Beautiful.

"Five-sixty, please," she says with a grin, holding her hand out for payment.

I reach into my pocket and find a rectangular piece of plastic. As I hand it over, our fingers graze, and the unexpected tingle that shoots through me makes me jump back. I'm not sure if she feels it as well because she just winks and rings me up, sliding my card through the machine. It's nice to see her laugh. Her features are much prettier when not marred with a furrowed brow or suppressed scowl.

Placing a slip of paper in front of me to sign, she speaks again.

"Thank you...Edward."

I blink repeatedly, wondering how she knows my name, until I notice it's printed on the receipt.

"You're welcome..." I look down and notice she's wearing a name tag. "...Bella."

Her smile turns shy, but her eyes remain bright and inviting, so I give her a wave before moving off to retrieve my coffee at the next counter. I can tell she's watching me, despite the fact that she seems completely engaged with her next customer. I can feel the heat of her stare on my skin, but every time I glance up, her eyes are elsewhere, causing me to wonder if I'm just imagining this in my head.

My coffee is ready, and I collect it, along with my scone, and find an empty table in the back. My view is skewed from here, and I can no longer see the beautiful woman at the counter. I take a tentative sip of my coffee and am more than pleased at what I find. It's the perfect blend of sweet and bitter, the creamy milk smoothing it out. I take a bite of the scone and my eyes close reflexively. Tastes of cinnamon, nutmeg and some other spice I just can't place dance on my tongue. With each bite, I feel as if I'm that much closer to figuring out what it is I'm missing, but at the last moment it slips away.

I wash down the crumbs with the rest of my coffee and allow myself to look around the cafe. The walls are a deep plum color and are filled up with black and white photographs. I make my way around, checking each one out. There doesn't seem to be any artist or information listed next to any of them, and I'm not even quite sure what they are.

I stop in front of photograph of a meadow. Something about it calls to me, and it looks hauntingly familiar. I wrack my brain, trying to discern if I've ever been there before. Wisps of memories flutter through my head, and if I close my eyes I can see a red checkered picnic blanket spread out under the tree. A woman in a blue dress faces away from me, her long, chestnut-colored hair, fluttering softly in the wind. She holds her hand out, a beautiful diamond sparkling in the sun.

"It's beautiful," she whispers, and with those words, the entire memory seems to dissolve into fractured pieces.

Shaking my head, I focus back on the photograph in front of me. Despite it being devoid of color, you can tell it was taken on a sunny day. Short grass sways in the wind, and a large, strong-looking oak tree looms in the foreground. A section of the bark is peeled away with something carved into it. It's too far away in the photo for me to make out clearly, but I think they might be letters.

I close my eyes again, hoping that the fleeting memory presents itself again to no avail. Try as I might, it remains hidden, lodged somewhere deep in my brain. I feel a surge of warmth behind me and something touches my shoulder lightly. A warm, familiar voice ghosts past my ear.

"This one's my favorite."