Memories of You

Chapter Thirty-Two - Good Luck

Thank you to everyone that is reading, voting, following, PMing me, and commenting.  It means the world to me, especially in this very stressful time of mine.  As always, I hope you enjoy.

Thanks once more to Depecher and BarbaraK2U for all that you do.  Thank you so, so much.

Tris' POV

For the next three weeks, I stand in the kitchen and learn everything I can about the subtle art of making bread. I'm not sure if there will be another letter from Tobias this time. He won't get my response for weeks, and I just don't know if he'll send me another letter without knowing if I forgave him.

When Evelyn and Lucien explained that they would be teaching me how to bake bread to keep up the façade, I thought it was silly. I had made breads and cakes with my mother for years, and I was sure this wouldn't be any different. It turned out that what I was used to making was either a simple yeast loaf or quick bread.

My first attempts at simple loaves resulted in burnt, hardened messes. I noticed that Evelyn often became short-tempered when she was teaching me, stating that I was wasting precious resources. She needed reminders from Lucien that I was new at this, and that I wasn't wasting on purpose. She herself hadn't become an expert overnight, he had chided her gently; her attempts had looked very similar to my twisted, hardened lumps.

The loaves that Lucien and Evelyn made with such ease should be considered an art form that I hadn't even known existed. There were so many rules to remember about kneading, the correct temperature, and how much flour or oil to use. Then there were the designs themselves — while they didn't do many due to the war, the ones they did show me with such ease were supposed to be simple. I, however, felt as if I were trying to recreate masterpieces with just a crude piece of rock.

If I thought the baking lessons were difficult, the French lessons were almost impossible. Evelyn became irritated quickly when I would pronounce something wrong, or when I mixed up masculine and feminine forms of words. It got so bad that at one point, she threw down the children's book she was having me translate, stormed out of the room, and didn't speak to me for over an hour. I kept hearing her grumbling in the kitchen, something about me being completely incompetent and wondering why they picked me to do this mission if I couldn't learn a simple phrase.

Lucien was a far more patient teacher, and I felt that I was able to comprehend the lessons he was teaching much faster. With Evelyn, I felt that I had a mental block preventing me from learning much of anything. The problem wasn't that I couldn't get the concept she was teaching or that she was a poor teacher; it was more that I had a relationship with Tobias that she didn't have. I could tell she longed to communicate with Tobias when she saw me reading over my letter, but she seemed unsure of how to proceed with asking for forgiveness. So instead, she took her frustrations out on me, and it often resulted in both of us being irritated with each other.

I know I should speak to her about writing to Tobias, but I honestly don't know how to broach such a subject without making her angry. How do you tell your future mother-in-law that the son she hasn't spoken to in ten years might — or might not — forgive her if she would just take the chance and write to him? All she has to do is ask him for his forgiveness and he would more than likely give it.

I wish I could have more of my lessons with Lucien due to the tension between Evelyn and me, but I doubt that is going to happen anytime soon. Lucien is something of a high-ranking commander in the Resistance, though without an official title, and he is often extremely busy. His duties include distributing the goods to those who need them within the town and to Resistance fighters as payment for their support, keeping up with the secret codes that the Allied Forces send, relaying back the information that spies in the area have uncovered, and making sure that the town isn't retaken by enemy soldiers.