Memories of You

Chapter Forty-Eight-Briefing

Happy Easter! Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday that will be celebrating. Thank you again for all the reads, votes, and comments. I can't believe we are already so far into this book. Enjoy!

Thanks again to Depecher and BarbaraK2U for your continued help and support. I really don't know what I would do without your help. Thank you!!!

While the trip on the civilian boat only lasted five days, Tris and I were anxious to get home; the trip was made longer for us, however, when my mother, Lucien, and Claudette decided to join us. I knew my mother wanted to be there for us when we got married, but I had really hoped to be alone with Tris on the military transport boat - without her being examined by doctors or being bombarded with questions and visitors.

Evelyn pleaded with Amar in the hospital to let us accompany them, and he gave in to her request far too quickly in my opinion. Especially when she said that it had been years since she had traveled to the States and wanted to be escorted. I think he was hoping to make up for everything that had happened, and wanted to give my mother and me time to be with each other. I didn't have time to correct him before he was gone, and so we ended up on the civilian ship with my mother and her family.

Tris had a hard time on the boat, especially with the rooms. Her nightmares seemed to worsen and she was often uncomfortable in cramped areas. I did everything I could to reassure her that nothing would happen to her, but I often saw her hands shake or her eyes would dart around the small room. My mother tried to help, offering to sleep on the floor of our room, but with Rags already on the floor, I feared Tris wouldn't sleep at all with her there. Claudette would often give Tris pictures that she drew, or have Tris read to her, and it did help distract her, but I could still see how much her hands shook when she read to Claudette at night in the cramped room.

When we reached the port in New York, I thought the two day trip would be fairly quick to North Carolina, but with a six-year-old that had only been out of her small village recently, staying in the remnants of London, it stretched on for another day. She bounced up and down with excitement along the roads, and I often had to hold her in my lap to remind her that Tris needed space. Once we finally reached the outskirts of Camp Lejeune, we made sure that everyone was settled in a nearby hotel. Tris and I headed out in the early morning to go back to the base.

I look over at Tris briefly before turning my eyes back to the dirt road. She's looking out the window, watching the pine trees with vague interest as we flash past them. Her face is masklike, but her eyes are glassy. I wish I could know what she is thinking, but over the past few months I have grown accustomed to this look - it's the face she wears when she's feeling lost. "It's surreal," I hear her mumble.

"What is?" I ask quietly, trying not to startle her.

She looks over at me shyly, a small smile playing on her lips, before looking back out the window. "Sorry. I was just thinking out loud about things. Um...just that we haven't been back here in over a year. That the war in Europe is over. That this chapter in our lives is ending, and we're about to start a new one. That I'm about to see my parents for the first time in over three years..." She trails off and I reach over, grabbing her hand to give it a quick squeeze before she can run it through her short hair.

"It's ok, Tris. I'll be there with you. Even if your parents don't approve, you aren't getting rid of me that easily." I honestly couldn't care less what her parents think about us, but I know how important this is to her. I will keep my mouth shut and attempt to be civil, even if they are truly the cause of all of our pain, suffering, and heartbreak. If it hadn't been for them, none of this would have happened - Tris would have remained safe and unharmed.