I have always sort of wondered- what if Edward didn't come back at the end of New Moon? I know this idea has been played with a lot already, I will try to keep it original, I promise.

This story will be Jacob-heavy, at least initially, but make no mistake about it- I love Jacob, and will not be bashing him or forgetting him, but I am a Bella/Edward diehard, no worries.

Chapter One- Rim of the Wineglass

"Jake, where the hell are the car keys?" I call up the stairs, hearing more than a hint of annoyance in my own voice but unable to help it as I sweep the clutter on the kitchen table first one way, then the other, rolling my eyes in frustration as the gesture yields nothing but an even bigger mess.

To my horror, two year old Elise giggles from where I have her perched on my hip, repeating "H-well!" with great enthusiasm, if not pronunciation, and I feel something resembling panic at how quickly she's growing up as Jake shouts,

"Did you check my coat?" his voice sounding far away.

I take a few steps over to the front hall and begin to fumble through the front pockets, not feeling especially optimistic, but I hear a telltale jingle almost immediately and am unable to resist twirling Elise around once before I shout again, "Yeah, I've got them!"

"Good, Bels," he responds, almost absently, or at least, I think it's absently, since it's kind of hard to tell when he's one floor and several rooms away from me, but before I can think about it too much I hear him coming down the stairs, dragging a very reluctant Conner behind him and muttering something in a voice that is almost threatening about how Conner had better behave on my birthday.

But evidently Conner has no qualms about making his unhappiness known as he plants his feet at the foot of the stairs, hands on his hips as he whines, "But I don't want to see grandma. She's scary!"

I look down at his five year old frame, trying not to laugh at the idea of anyone finding Renee scary when if anything I think of her as a child myself, and am struck by how Conner really does look like Jacob in his current pose of defiance-

I look up at Jake, and see that unlike me he's given into the urge to laugh at our son's words, something Conner doesn't seem to be taking especially well as he sticks his chin out with all the dignity his five year old frame can muster.

"She is scary," he insists loudly, eyes widening. "Last time, she tried to tell me about tar- taroo" he said, and I fight the urge to laugh again as I correct,

"Tarot," smiling at him lightly before sinking to my knees to face him and asking, "But how come that was scary?"

"The death card was so creepy," he said, as though it was perfectly obvious, and I felt the corners of my mouth pull up a little bit more as I said with manufactured gravity,

"Well, she won't talk about that anymore today, I promise. And anyway, don't you want to see Grandpa Charlie?"

"'rampa Charlie is coming?" he asked, sudden excitement in his voice, and I smile again as Jake replies,

"Sure is. And so is your Grandpa Billy. Don't you want to see him?"

By now, of course, Conner is in a near frenzy, jumping up and down and clapping his hands as he exclaims loudly, "'rampa Billy! 'rampa Billy!"

Jake picks him up and smiles at me over his head, and even after all this time I'm awed by the gentleness in his gaze as he reaches his free hand toward me, his arm warm as it snakes gently around my waist and he whispers in my ear, "Better go quickly before he changes his mind."

Despite myself a small giggle escapes my lips as we walk toward the car.

--

I run a finger carelessly over the rim of my wineglass, feeling the moisture on the tip of my finger for a brief moment as I hesitate, unsure of what to do- somehow it seems inappropriate for a thirty year old mother of two to lift her finger to her lips to suck it off, and yet, wiping it in a napkin would feel so- unsatisfactory somehow-

"Bella?" my father's voice calls me back to the present, and I blink in surprise as he places a gift in front of me.

"Just a little thing," he says, looking slightly embarrassed, and I try to smile warmly as I take it, not sure how successful I am, and I open it, my thoughts a million miles away, thinking about things that I'm totally over, most of the time.

But for some reason, even after all these years, birthdays are hard.

"Oh wow, dad, thank you," I say warmly, not needing to fake my enthusiasm as I see the gift- a picture frame containing a picture of him, Jake, and I from what must be over 10 years ago now- before Jake and I were married. We're sitting on the back porch of Charlie's house, and we all look- not even happy, exactly, but at peace.

And I guess that's one thing I need to say about my life- it has all been very peaceful, very natural, werewolves notwithstanding. And if I sometimes wish for more, well- doesn't everyone, in their own way? I think so. But like I already said, birthdays are harder. Usually I'm glad that I came back to Forks after college; usually I'm happy with my life. But somehow, as time ticks by, on this one day a year I'm somehow acutely aware of other possibilities that never came into existence- other realities that might have been. I think of Alice- how she sometimes saw many possible futures-

But it's never a good idea, to think of Alice, so I stop that train of thought before it gets any further and turn to my mother's gift.

--

I slip outside, hoping no one will notice, even as I know that there wouldn't be much chance of that on the best of days, but much less on the night of my birthday. In fact, by my calculations, I have ninety seconds maximum before Renee comes looking for me, trying to make me open just one more present, or have just one more bite of cake.

As I look toward the woods I'm struck once more by the peacefulness of the night- the feeling of casual certainty that comes from being here, back at Charlie's house to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. It seem suddenly, strangely appropriate, and I feel an inexplicable sense of homecoming even though Jacob and I only live ten minutes away-

And in one sudden moment, a moment that doesn't seem inherently different than any other moment, that feeling is irrevocably shot to hell as I feel, rather than see, a sudden movement somewhere to my left. I'm instantly on edge, shivering despite the unusual warmth of the night as I turn my head in the direction of the movement, asking uncertainly,

"Who's there?" then regretting the words almost immediately, since I've learned, after all this time, that when you ask that question you don't always like the answer.

But tonight there is no answer, and I shiver again, moving to go down the porch steps and, of course, tripping slightly as I do, the years having done nothing to grant me anything resembling… well, balance, and I let out a low curse word, instantly wishing I had done neither thing as I realize that if anything I'm probably making myself into a victim. For an endless second two parts of me argue loudly with one another in my head- the sensible part that tells me to turn around and bolt back toward the house, to my family, and part that urges me to push forward- the part that I know, even before either side has been able to make a single point in my head, will win.

Various possibilities race through my head as I take one slow step forward and then another, somehow more confident as I say again, louder than the first time, "Who's there?" absolutely certain, despite the fact that all I can hear are crickets, that someone is there, and various possibilities race quickly through my head and are just as quickly discarded as I take another step.

"Bella," two voices say at once, and I am sure, despite the fact that one of the voices belongs to Jacob and all but drowns out the second, which is a mere whisper, almost too soft for my ears to catch it, that there ARE two voices, and without even thinking, almost unable to help myself, I take a step toward the second one, even though I'm not even sure where it came from- wishing I could hear it again to be sure-

"Bella?" I hear again from behind me and somehow, Jake's saying my name again breaks the bizarre spell that's come over me and I turn quickly, almost flying into his arms as I sprint back toward the porch, miraculously managing not to trip this time.

He laughs warmly but uncertainly as I cling to him, stroking my hair gently, in a way he hasn't done since we were much younger- in a way that suddenly makes me feel much younger as he asks, "What are you doing out here?"

"I- wanted to be alone for a little bit," I respond honestly, and feel his understanding as he asks seriously,

"Would you like me to go back inside for a while then?"

I hesitate before clinging to him slightly tighter, saying softly, "No, Jake, I wouldn't."

He pushes me back slightly, surveying my face closely, but either he can't see anything or isn't sure what he sees, as his own face remains, if anything, slightly bewildered.

"You okay, Bels?" he asks finally, voice laced with concern, and I fight to smile as I say what I hope is brightly, wishing I was a better liar,

"Yeah, I am."

But the thing is- I'm not. Because for a minute there, I would have sworn the other voice that I heard was Edward's.

--

I hope you enjoyed it!!! Reviews are treasured, and another chapter should be up soon!