Quick Author's Note, before I start the story is: when Clary is telling them stories about her husband, they're told in the actual story in flashbacks. You're reading what she's remembering, not what she's actually telling them. Meaning that she's not giving them every detail you're getting, not even close. So, what you're reading is not what she's telling them. Yes? Did I explain that okay?

And another thing: despite the year it says in the song –it says 1948, in case you don't know the song- I decided to make this story in modern times. So, the story does not take place in 1948. I know it says in the song that it's 1948, but it's my story, so I changed it. And this means that, when she's telling them the stories, its like, way in the future. But that's not what is important. What's important is the flashbacks and stuff. Cool? :D Thanks for reading.

Grandma burned the biscuits
Nearly took the house down with it.
Now she's in assisted livin'
We all knew that day would come.
We knew she was too gone to drive
The day she parked on I-65.
Found her on the shoulder cryin'
She didn't know where she was.
It's like her mind just quit.
Oh but bring up grandpa- it's like someone flipped a switch.

A front porch light and a blue Desota,
Couple'a straws and a coca cola:
You can see it all goin' down.
A handsome boy in army green
A tear on his face- down on a knee,
Shaky voice- a diamond ring should put you in that town.
Tomorrow she won't remember what she did today,
But just ask her about Ellsworth, Kansas, 1948.

She takes out his medals,
A cigar box of letters.
Sits and scatters pictures,
Black and whites of days gone by.
We started losin' her when she lost him,
But to hear her carry on you'd swear she's seventeen again

Football games and leaves a'cracklin'
Walkin' her home in his letter jacket,
You can see it all goin' down.
A perfect night on a front porch glider,
Saying goodnight for the next 3 hours.
Her tired eyes glow wild and bright
When she talks about that town.
Tomorrow she won't remember what she did today,
But just ask her about Ellsworth, Kansas 1948.

While the world is fading all around her
Sharin' a sundae at the counter
He's goin' on and on about her
But she's right there right now
Tomorrow she won't remember what she did today
But just ask her about Ellsworth, Kansas 1948

{Third Person POV}

The woman stood in the middle of the floor, her eyes focused on the patch of clear blue sky she could see out the lone window on the far side of the room, completely oblivious to the four people standing right outside the door. There was an older man in navy blue scrubs conversing with a younger man with a heartbroken expression on his face. Next to them stood a young woman, holding the hand of a little girl who looked no older than four. All four watched the woman through the open door as she swayed gently back and forth, from her toes to her heels and back, over and over again.

"Mommy, what's wrong with Grandma?" the little girl asked the woman who had a firm grip on her tiny fingers. She looked down on her daughter and bit her lip to keep herself from crying. When the little girl realized she wouldn't get an answer, she looked to the man talking to the doctor instead. "Uncle Seb, what's wrong with Grandma? Is she sick?" He smiled sadly at her and nodded his head.

"Yeah, baby girl. Grandma's sick." The little girl furrowed her tiny eyebrows and pushed her lips into a pout.

"What's wrong with her? Is she going to get better soon? She promised we'd go out to get ice cream!" The man looked away from her, back into the room. He watched as the woman moved from her spot in the middle of the floor and glided silently towards the window, where she pressed her forehead against the cold glass and watched her breath leave fog in its wake.

"No, sweet heart. She's not going to get better." He crouched down in front of the little girl and took her hands in his as her mother smoothed her hair out of her face. "You see, Grandma has a sickness where she forgets things and people. And she's not going to get her memories back. It's called Alzheimer's disease." The man knew the little girl was intelligent for her age, but he knew she still wouldn't understand. She was just too young, and he hated that her grandmother wouldn't remember the sweet little girl with red hair that matched hers from twenty years prior.

"Alt-heimer's?" the little girl asked confusedly, scrunching up her little nose. The man laughed and nodded, ruffling her hair gently as he stood up and faced the doctor again.

"So she won't get her memory back, right, doc?" he asked, refusing to believe it until the doctor assured him it was impossible.

"Not all of them, no. I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth." The man just stared at the doctor, grabbing onto the one last piece of hope he had, unwilling to let go for anything.

"You said 'not all of them'. Does that mean she has some of her memories left?" he asked hopefully, his green eyes –so like the older woman's- widening. The doctor smiled gently and nodded.

"Yes, she has some." When the man and the woman started asking about the remaining memories in unison, the doctor held up a hand and smiled again. "I can't tell you exactly what memories she still has, because I don't know. I'm sorry. But what our specialist has discovered is that she responds the best to one line of questioning." The man grabbed his little niece and lifted her onto his hip. He was eager to talk to the woman in the room –his mother- who he'd feared would never again look at him with love or recognition.

"What line of questioning? Please, doc, anything that will help us bring her back to us. Anything." The doctor smiled again, and opened his mouth to reply, and his answer had the man and woman in front of him smiling so wide he was surprised it didn't hurt them. "So you're saying that all we have to mention is . . .?"

{Clary POV}

I leaned my forehead against the glass and stared at the beautiful sky. It was a wonderfully clear sky, not a cloud in sight, and I really wished they'd let me out to get some fresh air soon. I was locked in this small, lonely room too often lately, and I missed my freedom and the feeling of grass between my toes. I missed the gentle breezes and smells of nature, and the vibrant colors all around as soon as I stepped foot outside.

My musings were interrupted by the sound of someone at the door behind me and I slowly turned. There were four people: a man in dark scrubs, another, taller man holding a little red haired girl on his hip, and a young woman. I tilted my head to the side as I looked at them. They were all looking at me with smiles, and I wondered why, when I had no idea who they were. "Are you here to bring me outside?" I asked hopefully. The man in the blue scrubs shook his head before he turned and left the room without a word. I tilted my head to the side and met the eyes of the three people left in my room. "If you're not here to take me outside . . . then why are you here?" I asked. The other man wrapped his arm around the woman and the girl and pulled them close to his side, and that's when I noticed the woman was sniffling. Concern shot through me, and I stepped a little closer to them. "Oh my. Are you okay, dear?" She gave me a watery smile and nodded.

"Miss, we were just wondering if we can ask you some questions," the man said suddenly, calling my attention back to him. I smiled. It had been a long time since I had company, and I was happy that they were going to stay and have a chat.

"Of course, darling. Come, have a seat." I gestured to the small couch pushed against the wall of the room, opposite to my bed. They sat down, the woman still holding the little girl on her lap. I smiled as I perched on the edge of my mattress, and looked at them expectantly.

"Okay, first, do you know who we are?" the man asked me. I squinted at them and shook my head. I'd never seen these people before in my life. The woman gave another sniffle and I gave her a sympathetic smile. "Okay, our next question is . . . do you remember your husband?" I stared blankly at him and blinked a few times. Did I remember my husband? Was he kidding? I remembered everything about my husband, from the golden tint of his hair to the smell of his skin when I pressed my nose against the hollow of his throat to the way it felt to be in his arms. There wasn't one thing I ever forgot about the love of my life.

"Of course," I answered. "I remember him." A smile lit up the man's face and he sat forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees so he could lean towards me.

"You do?" I nodded. "Everything?" I nodded again and frowned, wondering where this line of questioning was going. "Can you tell us about the day you met?"

My lips pulled into a smile as I remembered, and I nodded once more, opening my mouth to speak.

[Flashback]

I walked off the airplane, scowling. I couldn't believe they were doing this to me. Right before the start of the summer, and before my goddamn senior year, they were making me freaking move to Kansas, of all freaking places. Couldn't we have moved to California or something, or, better yet, stayed in New York? Where my friends were, where I belonged? Of course not, because my mom wanted to 'follow her dreams' and 'open an art shop before she has to retire'. Retire? She's thirty seven!

My eyes scanned the airport for a familiar head of red hair, just a few shades darker than my own, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I'd convinced them to leave me in New York for an extra week, so I could say goodbye to my friends. And she told me she'd be waiting at the airport to take me to our new 'home' when my plane landed, but of course she wasn't. After a few minutes of searching, I gave up, and leaned against the wall to wait until the crowd thinned before I could look again. I whipped my phone out of my pocket and called my best friend, Simon, who was still back in New York. He picked up on the third ring.

"Clary!" he exclaimed, and I smiled at the enthusiasm in his voice.

"Si!" I mocked and he snorted, which made my smile widen. "Well, my plane landed. And I'm in the airport. And my mom's not," I whined, leaning my head back against the wall and closing my eyes. Simon made a sympathetic noise through the phone and I giggle. Simon and his noises, I thought to myself. "God, Simon, I miss you already. What the hell am I going to do in Kansas?!" He laughed.

"I miss you, too, Clary. But I'm sure there's plenty for you to do in Kansas. Like, you could – is that Clary?! Let me talk, let me!" I laughed out loud and listened as Simon talked to the person who'd yelled at him on the other end of the line, most likely my other best friend, Magnus. They argued for a few seconds before I heard some rustling, and then Maggie's voice on the line.

"Clary, darling, how's Smells-Worth?!" he asked and I couldn't help but laugh again. God, I missed my crazy ass best friends.

"It's called Ellsworth, Maggie, baby. And so far, all I've seen is the clouds and the airport. So I'm not sure." Magnus giggled at me.

"Oh, I feel so bad for you. I'm sure there will be absolutely slim pickings for boys out there." I lowered my head and scanned the airport again for my mom, but again, my search came up empty.

"That's not what I'm here for anyway, Mags. But if I find a good gay, I'll give him your number," I laughed.

"Ew! No thanks. I'll stick to city boys. Anyway, Simon's crying, so I'm going to give him the phone back." I heard Simon yell that he wasn't crying in the background and I giggled again. Tears sprang into my eyes when I realized how little I'd be able to talk to them now that I was across the country.

"I'm going to miss you, Maggie. So much." The playful tone he'd had in his voice through the whole conversation disappeared, and he became completely serious.

"I'm going to miss you too, baby girl," he cooed. "But you'll be okay. You're so strong, and you can handle anything. Including moving to Kansas." I smiled.

"Thanks, Magnus. I love you so much."

"I love you, too. Now here's Simon. You better call me every day." I laughed and assured him that I would before Simon came on the line and scoffed.

"Oh gays," he said, and I giggled when I heard Magnus protest in the background. "Oh my God, Clary, you won't believe this new game I got-." I tuned him out then, uninterested. Once Simon got started talking about video games, he wouldn't shut up for a while. Instead of listening, I looked around the airport again, this time for the bathrooms. When I spotted the sign, I pushed off the wall and made my way towards the doors, dragging my luggage behind me. Once I broke through the crowd, I stopped short at the sight before me.

There were five people standing right in front of the doorway to the bathrooms: an older man with brown wavy hair and broad shoulders, and an older woman with long, stick straight black hair wearing a skirt suit like she came straight from work. Standing in front of them was two people who looked about my age: a tall boy with black hair hanging in his ice blue eyes and an equally as tall girl who looked almost exactly like the older woman. And leaning against the wall next to them was a short little boy with glasses, who looked like the spitting image of the older man.

I didn't know what it was about them that made me pause, but I just stood there staring at them for a minute before I shook my head and bent down to pick up the luggage I'd inexplicably dropped. I skirted around the group and walked into the girl's bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror for five minutes to see if moving had any effect on me at all yet. My skin was still the same pale color it had always been, and I had just as many freckles across my cheekbones as I'd always had. My eyes were still dull and green, and my hair was still just as carroty orange and curly as the last time I'd looked in a mirror.

After a few minutes, I decided I'd spent enough time in the bathroom and collected my luggage again. I walked out of the bathroom and stopped again. The group of five I'd been staring at earlier were now in a tight circle around a sixth person. All I could see of the person was that they were tall and had the blondest curly hair I had ever seen. I shook my head at myself, confused with my weird fascination with a family of strangers, and made my way back to the wall, still holding my phone to my ear. Simon continued to talk on and on about his new video game as I leaned back against the wall again. I was staring at my feet for about three minutes before I felt someone's eyes on me. I raised my head up slowly, until I met the eyes of the owner of the blonde hair I'd seen in that group earlier. They were still surrounding the person, seemingly trying to engage him in a conversation, but he didn't look away from me. I was starting to feel uncomfortable, since all I could see of the person was their eyes and hair, so I grabbed my luggage and started walking towards the door so I could wait for my mom outside.

I was about halfway there when I felt long fingers wrap around my wrist and gently tug me to a stop. I turned slowly, and when I saw the owner of the blonde hair, my jaw practically fell off. It was a boy, and not just any boy. He had to be just about the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Up close, I could see that his hair was just as blonde as I thought, but with streaks of darker blonde that looked completely natural, and it looked so soft I had to fist my hands to keep myself from reaching up to feel it. The boy in front of me was tall, at least a foot taller than me, which wasn't hard since I was so short. His face was almost like a statue come to life: strong jaw line, straight nose, tan skin, and perfect lips pulled into a smile that made my knees go weak. But the thing about his face that really caught my attention was his amber eyes, and the way the smoldered at me.

I couldn't keep looking in his eyes for fear of forgetting where I was and making a fool of myself, so I let my eyes trail down his body instead. His shoulders were just as broad as the man he'd been standing next to earlier. He was wearing a camouflage army uniform, with a small circle metal hanging off his breast pocket. After only a few seconds, I couldn't help but let my eyes meet his again. I cleared my throat. "Um, can I help you with something?" I asked, surprised I didn't stutter and sound like an idiot.

"What, Clary?" I resisted the urge to slap myself in the forehead, as I'd completely forgotten I was on the phone with Simon. "What are you talking about?"

"Sorry, Simon, I have to go. I'll call you later."

"Wait, you didn't hear the best part yet-!" I flipped my phone shut and put it in my pocket as I looked at the gorgeous stranger in front of me.

"So, something you needed?" I asked when he didn't answer my first question. He just kept staring at me, smiling. I was starting to think he couldn't talk or was mentally unstable when he finally opened his perfect mouth.

"Sorry, darling, I didn't mean to startle you," he said in the deepest, most delicious southern accent I'd ever heard. I felt a shiver go through me before I could stop it, and my knees buckled. "But I just had to meet you," he continued.

"Um, why?" I wondered, unable to say more than one word. His voice was still affecting me. I tried to look away so I could get my head straight again, but his eyes caught and help my gaze, and I couldn't tear my own away.

"Because it's not often we get such a pretty girl down in these parts," he replied. And I just about melted. I opened my mouth the say something, anything, but before I could, someone called my name.

"Clary! Oh God, I'm sorry I'm late. I was painting and I just lost track of time." My mom wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a hug, completely ignoring the boy who still had his hand grasping my wrist. I stared at him for one more second before I pulled my hand back and looked at my mom. "Are you ready to go?" She pulled back and grabbed my luggage, starting to walk away without even waiting for my answer. I shrugged apologetically at the boy, refusing to meet his eyes again as I turned to leave. I hadn't even taken a step when I felt his fingers again, this time slipping into my own hand. With a deep breath, I turned around to see him smiling. As soon as I met his eyes, he lifted my hand, painfully slowly, and pressed a lingering kiss to my knuckles, causing my knees to buckle again and my breathing to hitch in my throat.

"I'll be seeing you," he said, his breath washing over my hand and raising goose bumps along my arm. He dropped my arm and just as I turned to walk away on shaky legs, he spoke again. "Clary." The sound of my name on his lips sent another shiver through me again, and I hurried away before he could do something else that would make me melt into a puddle of goo right in the middle of the airport.

\ \ \ \

"And that's how I met my husband," I finished, smiling at the memory. "I spent the next week and a half or so thinking about him, wondering if I'd imagined it. I didn't understand why such a perfect person would want to talk to me." The man and woman sitting on the couch across from me were leaning forward, their expressions showing they were paying complete attention to every word I said. I smiled again. I was sure I would have been totally enraptured if I was hearing about my wonderful husband from the lips of someone else as well. He caught and held everyone's attention without conscious thought, even from word of mouth.

"So, the first time you met was at an airport?" the woman asked me, smiling shyly. I nodded and opened my mouth to speak, but the little girl sitting on her lap distracted me. She was looking at me, twirling a piece of red hair around her finger. I stared at that hair for a minute. It seemed so familiar. But I gave up after a minute and met the woman's gaze again. "But when did you see him again? I mean, he didn't even ask for your number! All he knew was your name," she exclaimed. I shrugged and smiled again. Even after all these years, just thinking about my husband was enough to put a smile on my face. When it came to him, I had absolutely no control over my lips at all.

"When did you see him again?" the man asked, and I turned slightly to look at him. His eyes sparked the same recognition in my mind that the little girl's hair had, but I ignored it and began the story of my second meeting with the man of my dreams.

[Flashback]

"I never wanted to move here anyway!" I screamed into the house before I slammed the door behind me. I took off down the street at a sprint. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care. All I knew was that I had to get away from that house and my mother before I did something that got me into a lot of trouble.

We'd only been living in Ellsworth in that stupid freaking house for a week and a half. Ten days, total. And already I hated it. Almost everything about it repelled me, and I missed New York more and more with every passing minute. The only redeeming quality the stupid town had to me was the colors and wildlife and landmarks. Even thought I hated it, I had to admit that Kansas was extremely beautiful, with the perfect jade green leaves and blue lakes and the colors of the sky as the sun goes down. If I looked at it in the perspective of a painter, it was practically a wet dream kind of place to me. But in my perspective as a seventeen year old girl, it was hell.

I hadn't met anyone my own age. The whole block I lived on was old people. And, while I thought old people were cute, I needed someone to talk to, someone my own age. The only people I could talk to anymore were my mom, brother, and Simon and Magnus when they weren't too busy with their lives to talk to me. And even when they could, my mom didn't want me to be on the phone for more than half an hour because of roaming charges or something crazy like that.

I hated not having any friends. I wasn't by any means 'popular' back in New York, but I did get along with pretty much everyone. There were very few people who I didn't like, and I always went out of my way to say hello. But in Ellsworth, there was no one for me to even say hello to.

When my sides started burning, I stopped running and held my hands over my head, breathing deeply. I loved running. It always helped me calm down when my emotions were about to get the best of me. Once I got my breath back, I turned to start heading back home, but decided against it when I spotted a park down the street. I could see a playground filled with laughing little kids, a grassy area where people were spread out on blankets, trees surrounding the back edge with a small cement trail disappearing into it, and a number of benches randomly placed throughout the entire place. I made my way towards it, pulling the messenger back I'd managed to snatch on my way out of the house from over my neck. As I walked, I dug through it until I found what I was looking for.

I plopped down onto an empty bench right on the edge of the park, where I could see everything that was going on around me. The grassy area was between my bench and the playground, and I looked for subject to draw. I smiled and flipped open my sketchbook when I spotted the perfect one: a little dark haired girl sitting on a colorful blanket about ten feet away from me, leaning against an older man wearing a t-shirt that said 'World's Greatest Grandpa' across the front. What had caught my eye and interested me enough to draw it was the look of complete adoration on the little girl's face as she looked up at him, which was reflected in the man's as well, but with a hint of protectiveness in his eyes that made their closeness even more evident.

I started drawing, trying to focus fully on the paper in front of me. But my mind kept wandering back to my mom and the fight we'd had. She'd told me that going back to New York for a week before the end of summer like she'd promised was too expensive. Which I thought was utter bull. She'd been selling so many paintings lately, making enough money to buy my brother Jonathan that car he'd been asking for. So when she told me I'd have to wait at least a year before going back, I just lost it, and needed to get away from her as quickly as possible.

I was getting angry thinking about it, so I stopped drawing, unwilling to mess up the picture I was working on. My fingers clenched around the pencil in my hand and I closed my eyes as the tears welled up. I missed my friends so much it hurt, and the one thing I was excited about for the whole year was being able to go and see them, and my mother wouldn't even let me do that. I squeezed my lids shut tighter, allowing a single tear to streak down my cheek.

Before any others could follow, someone sat down on the bench next to me. I turned my head away from them quickly and wiped my face with my fists. "Hey, are you okay?" I heard the person next to me asked in a feminine southern drawl. I nodded, keeping my head turned away. I was always ugly when I cried, and I didn't want a stranger to see me so close up right after an –almost- emotional breakdown. I felt a hand against my back, and the company of someone who sounded close to my age was too comforting to shy away from, so I didn't move. "Want to talk about it?" they asked, and I couldn't help it: I giggled. Here I was, a complete stranger to this girl sitting behind me, and she was asking me if I wanted to talk about what was upsetting me? For all she knew, I could be crying because I hit someone with my car or something. I knew that was unlikely, but still. It could have been just about anything upsetting me.

Figuring that keeping my back to the stranger who was nice enough to check up on me was rude, I turned around to face her, wiping my fingertips under my eyes to make sure I collected whatever tears managed to escape. When I met her eyes, I immediately felt comforted, but intimidated at the same time. The girl in front of me was beautiful, with long, stick straight brown hair and brown eyes. Even sitting down I could tell she was tall, and her outfit was to die for; a black tank top under a deep purple jacket, and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans tucked into knee high leather boots. But the look in her pretty eyes was concerned, and I found myself wanting to confide in her.

"Um, I just got into a fight with my mom. It was no big deal." She smiled sadly at me.

"Okay, as long as you're okay." I nodded in response, and she smiled a little more genuinely. "I'm Isabelle. Nice to meet you," she said, holding out a hand with perfectly manicured nails painted the exact color of her jacket. I smiled to myself and shook her hand.

"I'm Clary." Her brown eyes twinkled and she nodded her head a few times.

"Oh, I know your name. My brother hasn't stopped talking about you since he first saw you." I raised my eyebrows at her –wishing I was able to only raise one- and tilted my head to the side. Her brother? I hadn't met anyone here that would talk about me, had I? She lifted her chin in the direction of the park and I turned my head just in time to see a little boy walking towards me, his glasses slightly crooked and his lips pulled into a small smile. But what caught my attention was the person holding his hand. It was the blonde from the airport, the boy who'd managed to make my whole body tingle by just saying my name. I spun back to Isabelle with wide eyes. I wasn't afraid to admit to myself that I was absolutely panicking.

"Breath," Isabelle instructed me, and I drew in a sharp breath as I turned back to the blonde hotty, who was somehow right beside me. The little boy climbed onto the bench on the other side of Isabelle and pulled a rolled up comic book out of his pocket, seeming like he was prepared to sit there for a while. But I kept my eyes on golden boy's chin, safely away from his eyes that I knew would reduce me to a stuttering idiot.

"Clary," he said. And, damn it if I didn't practically swoon. Not only was his voice as sexy as I remembered it, but watching his lips shape my name was completely indescribable.

"Hi," I breathed, but it came out as a whisper. I watched his lips pull up into a smile; he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on me.

"I'm Jace." He held out his hand, and I couldn't stop myself anymore. I let my eyes shoot to his, and the warmth and affection in his gaze instantly made me willing to drop to my knees and do just about anything he asked. Reason be damned. I lifted my hand slowly and pressed my palm to his. He held it gently yet firmly as he pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me. Usually, having a stranger randomly hug me would have absolutely freaked me out and made me run away screaming. But his hug was warm and comforting, and made my heart pound in my chest. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling at all. And he smelled so good. I melted into the hug, pressing my face against his chest, where I could feel his heart beating almost as fast as mine, even through his jacket. I smiled, realizing I had an effect on him, too. And that realization gave me confidence. I pulled back, without completely removing myself from his arms, and grinned flirtatiously at him.

"Nice to finally know your name, stranger," I said. His answering grin was dazzling, and I sucked my lower lip into my mouth. He was too gorgeous for words, and he was hugging me. Me, Clary Fray. Giddiness shot through me, completely overshadowing my anger and sadness until it was all I felt.

"Well, now that you know my name, how about we get to know each other a little bit better?" he asked. His accent made my knees weak, and I figured I probably would have dropped to the ground had his arms not been around me.

"And how do you propose we do that?" I wondered. He smiled again, and I leaned further into him. He was almost completely supporting my body at that point, because my legs would not stop wobbling like Jell-o.

"How about a date? Tonight, tomorrow night, next week. I'll take whatever I can get from you, beautiful." I sighed dreamily. I didn't even have to think about his question. It seemed completely natural for me to stand on my tip toes, press a lingering kiss to his cheek, and then move my lips to his ear so I could tell him yes. So, that's exactly what I did.

"Pick me up here at eight," I whispered. I felt his arms tighten around me for a second before I pushed out of them and turned on my heel to walk away, not once looking back. Even though I desperately wanted to.

\ \ \ \

"That was mean!" the woman in front of me laughed when I finished my story. She was pretty, even with her eyes swollen from crying. But when she was laughing and smiling, she was absolutely beautiful, and my heart warmed at the sight of her. She was looking happier with every moment we talked, and I was grateful that I was able to ease whatever was hurting her, if even just a little.

I shrugged. "Well, I couldn't very well let him know just how attracted to him I was, could I? I had to keep him guessing," I replied. The woman threw her head back and laughed again, and the sound made me smile. Suddenly, the little girl in her lap sneezed, and I looked at her. Her cheeks were pink and she had a sheepish look in her eyes.

"Blass you, sweet heart," I said, and she smiled.

"Thank you." I winked at her and looked back at the woman. She pressed a kiss to the back of the little girl's head and looked back up at me.

"Can you tell us about your first date?" the man asked, drawing my attention to him. He was smiling softly at me, and I returned the grin.

"Of course I can," I replied, jumping into the story of my first date ever.

[Flashback]

I walked down the street towards the park quickly, not wanting to be late. It was already five to eight, and I really didn't want Jace to be waiting for me, and I would just die if he thought I stood him up and left. Thinking about him brought a smile to my face, and I was more excited than I cared to admit to myself. It was my first date ever, and it was with a guy who literally looked like a Greek God. What girl wouldn't be excited?

I showed up at the park with two minutes to spare, and scanned my surroundings. Disappointment shot through me when I didn't see a head of blonde hair. I knew it wasn't even eight yet, but I suddenly wondered if he'd be the one to stand me up. He was way out of my league. I knew that. But I would be absolutely devastated if he didn't show up.

I made my way towards the swings and sat down, pushing myself back slightly. I swung forward, and as I went backwards again, I felt hands against my back, pushing me gently. If it was anyone else, the suddenness of his appearance would have terrified me and had me screaming like a little girl. But for some reason, as soon as I'd felt his hands against my back, I knew who it was, and all I felt was relief that he'd shown up, and excitement over what we were going to do on the date. And, though I wished the date would never end so I could spend more time with him, I was also anticipating the end of it. I hoped he would kiss me. My first real kiss, if you didn't count the sloppy, gross one Simon and I had shared in seventh grade on a dare. And I didn't count it, so if he kissed me, it'd be my first. And I was absolutely freaking out about it.

After pushing me on the swings in silence for a few minutes, Jace grabbed the metal chains and pulled me to a stop. He leaned forward so his lips were by my ear, just like I'd done to him earlier, except he was still behind me so I couldn't see him. All I felt was his warm breath on the bare skin of my neck, and I shivered. "Ready to go, darling?" he asked. I nodded quickly and jumped off the swing, desperate to see him. I spun around and really looked at him for the first time since we'd met in the airport. And, man, was he gorgeous, in his dark blue jeans and brown leather jacket. I kind of wanted to forget the whole unspoken 'date first, kiss later' rule and just throw myself at him. But I didn't want to initiate my first kiss. I wanted him to have complete control of it, just to see what it was like.

"Where are we going?" I asked. He smiled and held out his hand to me. I intertwined my fingers through his without a second's hesitation. The feeling of his skin against mine was absolutely perfect, and felt so right I didn't want to ever let go.

"It's a surprise," he replied. "Come with me." I did as he asked, and we walked back down the street. For the next fifteen minutes, all we did was talk. He asked me question after question, listening with rapt attention, and successfully making me feel like the only girl in the world. Or at least the only one that mattered. And he answered my questions fully, with what seemed like complete humble sincerity. I learned that he was nineteen, in the army, and had three siblings, though he was adopted into their family. Alec was the older boy I'd seen at the airport, but Jace was second oldest. Then there was his sister Isabelle, who he'd told me planned on becoming my best friend and was already planning what we'd do at our first sleepover. I smiled when he told me that, because the idea of having a best friend sounded really good to me. Then, he told me that his youngest sibling, Max, was the little boy who'd been with him at the park earlier. Everything he told me about Max reminded me of Simon, which started to hurt after a while. But as soon as it got bad, Jace noticed.

"What's wrong, little darling?" he asked me, pulling my hand to get me to stop walking. I raised my arm and wiped at my swimming eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. He stepped closer to me and wrapped one arm around me, lifting the other to my face to replace my sleeve with his thumb. His skin was so warm that I couldn't help but nuzzle my face into it. Not that I wanted to resist, even the slightest bit.

"I just miss home a little," I admitted, unwilling to lie to him. "Max sounds a lot like my old best friends, and I'm just a little home sick, I guess." He smiled at me and leaned down to press his mouth against my forehead, leaving them there for a few moments. My eyes fluttered closed; the feeling of his lips against my skin was absolute ecstasy.

"I understand, Clary." And that's all he needed to say. We just stood in the middle of the sidewalk for a few minutes, his arms wrapped around me tightly until I felt better. After the first minute or so, I could feel his fingers in my hair, gently running through it from the roots to the tips. And I practically purred.

"Thanks," I said, finally pulling away. The look in his eyes made me think he was contemplating pulling me back, and I desperately wanted him to. But he just took my hand again and we continued walking, getting to know each other better once again.

After about twenty minutes of walking, Jace tugged on my hand again, silently asking me to stop. I stood next to him and waited for him to tell me what the big surprise date was. He smiled, making me want to faint again, and reached a hand into his pocket. But I kept my eyes trained on his. Where before I didn't want to look for fear of melting, now I didn't want to look away for fear of him disappearing. He was too perfect to be real. "I'm going to blindfold you, okay darling?" I shrugged and turned my back to him, smiling when I felt his hands on my shoulders. He pulled me back until I was flush against his chest, and reached forward to wrap something around my eyes. I stood perfectly still, loving the feeling of his hard body against mine. But he stepped away too soon, and I frowned. "Is that too tight?" he asked. I shook my head and bit my bottom lip as he spun me around. Suddenly, I felt his finger on my chin, pulling it down until my lip popped out from inside my mouth. "Don't do that. It's too perfect for you to hide it behind your teeth." I squeezed my lips together to keep myself from smiling and asking if he'd rather bite it for me.

After standing there for a few moments, not moving, I was starting to get a little antsy. I wanted to know what his plans for the date were! I just opened my mouth to say so when I felt his breath brush across my face, my first sign that he was really close. My second sign was the feeling of his lips gently brushing across mine, which caused my body to practically explode. Electricity hummed through me, and it felt like my cheeks were on fire with how hard I was blushing. He pulled back a little, and I could almost feel it as his eyes scanned my face. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and before I could respond, his mouth was on mine again. It felt so natural as I moved my lips with his, raising one hand to rest against his chest and the other to tangle in that golden hair of his. And it was just as silky and soft as I'd imagined it to be. I sighed and melted into the kiss, leaning my body up against his as one of his arms wound around my waist and the other lifted up so he could cup my cheek in his palm. I was practically in heaven.

\ \ \ \

"Wait, he kissed you before the date even really started?" the woman asked, cutting me off. But I wasn't offended. Her question made me smile, and I nodded.

"Yes, he did. And it was wonderful. I wouldn't have had it any other way," I replied honestly. The woman smiled widely at me and wrapped her arms around the little girl on her lap, who was looking at me happily. I winked at her.

"I guess he didn't believe in the 'date first, kiss later' rule, either," the man chimed in, and I grinned before I continued my story.

[Flashback]

Just as I was starting to get lightheaded from lack of oxygen, Jace kissed me once more and pulled back, while still keeping his arms locked around me. I smiled up at him. "Sorry," he whispered, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "I know it was too soon, but I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you at the airport." I sighed again.

"It's okay," I replied honestly. I wished I could see if he was smiling, but I couldn't even see light around the edges of the blindfold. He leaned forward and kissed me again, pulling away too soon for my liking, before he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the street. "Where are you taking me?" I asked, giggling as I tripped over cracks in the sidewalk. He didn't answer, and my curiosity was piqued again. Before long, we stopped, and I heard the jingling of keys and the click of a door unlocking. I felt the air around me move as he pushed it open and dragged me through, closing it firmly behind me. "Where are we?" I wondered out loud, though I didn't expect –nor did I get- an answer. He twined his fingers through mine and started pulling me again, and I listened hard as our footsteps echoed throughout the room we were in. After about five minutes of walking through doors and following turns, Jace pulled me to a stop and leaned down so his lips brushed my ears as he spoke. I shivered and goose bumps popped up all over my body.

"We have to go up some stairs now, darling. You're going to have to be really careful. I'd hate it if something happened to you." I heard the sincerity in his words, and quickly turned my head to press a kiss to his lips. I felt them pull up into a smile against my own.

"I'll be careful," I assured him. He stepped in front of me and took both of my hands in his, pulling me forward. I heard a clang of metal as he stepped onto the first stair, and I followed the sounds of his steps until we reached the top, where I was assaulted by a huge gust of hundreds of different aromas. It smelled amazing, and I inhaled deeply as Jace pulled me along. "Where are we?" I asked again when he stopped me. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around, and I felt him untying the knot at the back of my head.

"See for yourself," he whispered in my ear as the cloth fell away from my eyes. I gasped. We were in a greenhouse I'd never seen before. The moon shone brightly through the glass above us, illuminating the room. Plants and flowers of all different colors, shapes, sizes, and heights reached upwards towards the light, casting crisscrossing shadows along the cement. Speckles of dirt and fallen leaves and petals dotted the floor. All in all, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Oh wow, Jace. This is amazing," I whispered, reaching out to gently stroke my finger against the blue petal of a flower. It shivered under my touch and I caught my breath.

"I was hoping you'd like it," he replied. He stepped in front of me and took my hands again, pulling me to sit down on a blanket he'd set up right in the middle of the green house. Once we were seated across from each other, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his cheek.

"Thank you. I love it," I whispered, and his answering smile put the greenhouse's beauty to shame.

\ \ \ \

"We spent three hours in the greenhouse that day, just talking. It was then, on the very first date, that I realized I was in the very real danger of losing my heart," I told them, holding my hand over my chest. I could feel the soft smile on my face as I spoke about him, and it was mirrored on the man's and woman's faces in front of me. Every time I looked directly at either of them, something –a spark of recognition- flashed within me, but it always disappeared before I could figure out where I'd seen them before. I was tempted to ask them if they spent a lot of time around this home, maybe visiting a relative or something, but they looked so happy when I was speaking about my husband, and I was unwilling to change the subject and ruin that just yet.

"Did he kiss you on your doorstep like they do in those old fashioned movies?" the woman asked, blinking dreamily. I smiled and nodded, though I wasn't about to elaborate. Yes, he had kissed me on the front doorstep, chastely and respectfully, just like in the movies . . . when we'd eventually gotten to my doorstep. After we'd left the greenhouse that night, we'd gone back to the park, and spent another few hours there. Then, we walked a few miles to the lake to watch the sunrise. It wasn't until after that that he finally walked me home. It was the perfect first date, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. By the time my front door shut that morning, I'd been madly in love, and happier that I'd moved to Ellsworth than I'd ever imagined I could be.

"Then what? Did he ask to see you again?" the man asked, leaning back on the couch and reaching an arm across the back. I shook my head and grinned at them when their eyes widened and their jaws dropped in unison.

"No, he didn't ask to see me again. But that doesn't mean that he didn't see me again," I told them, and smiled wider when the woman chuckled. And when the little girl heard the woman laugh, she copied her, folding both hands over her mouth and smiling behind her palms as she giggled. I smiled at her. She was absolutely adorable.

"Then when did he see you next?" the man asked. I met his gaze, ignoring the recognition that flashed through me again. I thought that maybe not thinking about it would help me figure it out faster.

"Well, the night after our first date actually. I'd been sleeping when he threw a rock at my window. And when I asked what in the world he was doing, he explained that he hadn't gotten my phone number or anything, so it was the only way he could think of to communicate with me. Looking back on it, it was the most romantic things I'd ever experienced, though at the time I had just been wondering why he couldn't have knocked on the front door during the day time like a normal person." The man nodded in agreement, and the woman smiled at me.

"Did you ever fight with him?" she asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, all the time. I think our first fight was after our third real date. We were on our way back to my house from this cute little diner –Taki's- he'd taken me to when he started asking questions I wasn't willing to answer. But, for some reason, he just wouldn't let it drop. And I got defensive, started calling him names, accusing him of random stuff, anything I could think of to change the subject away from myself. It worked, and we argued for the rest of the way to my house." They stared at me for a moment, and I waited for them to ask me what it was he'd asked. But they didn't, focusing on the fight itself instead.

"And what happened when you got home?" the man asked me. I lowered my head.

"I slammed the door in his face." They gasped simultaneously, and I hid my face so they wouldn't see me smile. Just thinking about it still made my heart swell with love for the man I had the honor of calling my husband.

They both started talking at once, the woman asking how we'd made up and the man saying that I was too harsh and should have given him another chance. I rolled my eyes again. They had no idea. "About three minutes after I slammed the door," I continued, cutting them both off mid-rant. They looked up at me and I smiled again. "I heard a knock. As soon as I opened the door, Jace wrapped me up in his arms, kissed me and apologized for prying into my life. He said he never meant to upset me and that he hated fighting with me and asked if I would forgive him. I told him there was nothing to forgive, that I had overreacted, and that was the end of our first fight –but nowhere near our last- fight."

They grinned at me and continued to pepper me with questions about Jace, occasionally interrupting to wonder about certain details. I told them about the most romantic date he took me on, the first time he told me he loved me and how I hadn't even had to think about it before saying it back, the first time I met his family as a whole, the first time he met my mother, what he did for me on my birthday. Everything I remembered about the beginning of our relationship, I recounted to them, and delighted in the smiles and laughs and happiness they gave me in return. I hadn't had anyone pay this much attention to me in a long time, and it felt good to talk about my husband so much after all these years. He was a good man, one of the best, and he deserved to be remembered. When they could think of no more questions about how our relationship progressed in the beginning, they moved on to the later years. I smiled as I remembered the night he proposed, the day of our wedding, and how happy he continued to make me for years to come.

After talking to them for a few hours, the woman looked at me, her eyes suddenly filled with sadness. I reached out to her and covered her hands with mine as I asked her what was wrong. "How did he die?" she asked, though I had a feeling she already knew. But I answered anyway. My heart clenched up in my chest just thinking about it.

"Lung cancer took him at the young age of forty-five. He hadn't smoked a day in his life, but breathing in the smoke when he was in the army got to him," I told them sadly, dabbing at the tears in my eyes with the edge of my robe. I missed him so much.

"I'm so sor-," the woman began, but a knock on the door cut her off.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over. You can come back tomorrow," a doctor said, poking her head through the door. The man nodded and stood up, lifting the now sleeping little girl from the woman's lap before he turned back to me.

"Can we come back tomorrow?" he asked, and I couldn't help but smile at him.

"I would like that very much," I told him honestly. Once the three of them left my room and disappeared down the hallway, I moved to the window again to lean my forehead against the cool glass and closed my eyes. I thought of the kind family who'd just spent the day with me, listening to my stories and acting like they were genuinely interested in my life. But I still didn't understand why they'd seemed so familiar . . .

My eyes snapped open and filled with tears. I remembered. I remembered when I'd seen them before. They were my family. I remembered my honeymoon with Jace, and how as soon as we got home I'd realized I was pregnant. I remembered giving birth to a beautiful, absolutely perfect baby boy, my little Sebastian, who we named after Jace's army buddy who'd died on the battlefield. And I remembered giving birth to a gorgeous baby girl only a year later, who we had named Isabelle after Jace's sister and my best friend. And I remembered getting called into the hospital as my daughter gave birth to my beautiful granddaughter, Aline. I was so happy, because I could see the absolute adoration in my daughter's eyes as she gazed upon her own daughter. But I also remember the pain from the day, being heartbroken that my husband wasn't there to witness the birth of his first grandchild.

But I remembered. I remembered.

~Ellsworth~

For the next several weeks, Sebastian, Isabelle, and Aline came to visit me every day. And I never forgot them again. We talked about Jace and me a lot, but I made sure to find out every little detail I could about their own lives since I'd last asked them. I found out that Aline was going into preschool soon, Isabelle was a nurse at the local hospital and hoping to get transferred to the nursing home so she could help take care of me, and Sebastian was moving up in his company and hoping to find a wife and settle down soon.

Now that I remembered them again, when I looked at my children and my grandchild, I could see Jace in them. With every move they made, every laugh and smile and emotion they portrayed, my husband shone out of their beautiful eyes. And I was happy again. I felt like I had my whole family with me.

A month later, after Isabelle took Aline home to sleep and Sebastian went to work, I stood at the window again. For a few days, I'd been feeling funny. Something was changing in me. I wasn't sure what, but I could feel it coming, and I didn't want to stop it. Whatever it was, I wasn't afraid of it. I embraced it, completely prepared for whatever the change was. And that night, when I laid down for bed, snuggled up under the covers, I closed my eyes, only to be met with the most beautiful, familiar amber color. I remembered it well, as I'd stared into Jace's eyes too many times to count. That color stayed with me as I drifted, realizing immediately that I'd never open my eyes again. I knew my children would be upset. My death would hurt them. But I knew they could move on with their lives, be happy, and know their mother was happy where she was as well.

Because finally, after all my years of yearning and waiting, I was reunited with my husband.

So, that was my first Songfic, and my first one-shot, all rolled into one! How'd you like it? Good? Bad? Completely awful? Totally awesome? Let me know, because I'd love to hear from you.

And I was wondering . . . should I do like a spin off of this, where I tell what actually happened? Not in memories, but like a real story, with multiple chapters and stuff. You know what I mean? Or would that be overkill? Should I just leave it as a one-shot and move on to another story? I don't know. I can't decide. So review and let me know what you think I should do. Please?!

By the way, this is nearly everything I wanted to put into it. I had to cut out SO MANY details that I really wanted to add, but they would have made this way too long for a one-shot, and they weren't relative to the main story line. So as much as it pained me, I cut out what I thought didn't fit or wasn't important enough.

Anyway, please review and let me know how I did. I'd appreciate it so much! Thank you!