Chapter 7

Friday Night - Four POV

Playing basketball with Zeke and Uriah in their driveway, I came here after dropping Tris off, instead of going home. Marcus has a date in the city, and I have the evening free, but being alone in the house doesn't appeal to me. I am surprised by how much I wish Tris wasn't going out of town this weekend. How is it that I haven't known her even a week and she already occupies my mind so much?

Is this because of Marcus' manipulation? He asks about her at least daily, and is constantly finding new ways to mention her or Andrew Prior. He keeps her at the forefront of my mind, presumably to keep me on the hook. But why? What is in it for him?

I must have stopped with the basketball during my pondering, because when I come back to the here and now, both Uriah and Zeke are standing in front of me with funny looks on their faces.

"Dude, are you ok? You went full on space cadet for a minute." Zeke asks.

"Yeah we were like 'Earth to Four, come in Four!' but I am happy to report that you continued dribbling the basketball the whole time. Coach would be proud. Are you sure you won't go out for the team this year? I am sure he'd let you join even if you missed tryouts this week." Uriah asks hopefully.

I am tall and I do like playing basketball, but I can't do a Fall sport and a Spring one, plus the newspaper; my grades would tank and that is not an option. Marcus would kill me if I went below my A/B average for something as frivolous as a basketball game. I shake my head and look at them both and smile. "No, sorry. I'm back guys. Who wants the ball?" Maybe they won't look too closely anymore and I can get my wandering mind under control.

I glance at my watch, it is 7:15 p.m. Tris should be on the train to Bloomington by now. All I did was THINK her name, and it's like Zeke heard me. He steals the ball from his brother and as he dribbles and guards it he asks me, "So, what is the story with Tris? Did you find out if she is single and willing to mingle? I'd sure like to get her alone." he says waggling his eyebrows to show it's mostly a joke. I suspect it is not all a joke though. The first thing he did when he saw her was ask if she was single - Zeke is interested.

I shake my head, grinning and say, "She won't let you get her alone." Then I take advantage of his momentary distraction to steal the ball and make a jump shot.

"She won't let me? What do you mean?" Distraction is over now, Zeke is 100% focused on me. "You know something, you have been holding out on me! Time to spill bro!"

I shrug, trying to play down the situation. "Nothing to spill. Uriah knows her too." I appeal to Uriah for help convincing Zeke. "You have like half the same classes as her. What's your take on the situation U, you think Zeekypoo over there has a chance with Tris?" I ask and spin the basketball on my finger so no one can see how intent I am on his answer if they happen to be looking.

Uriah laughs, and makes a play for the ball before I can spin it a second time, "Hard to say. She is pretty quiet. Hard to picture her with someone who makes as much noise as Zeke! HA!"

"Hey!" Shouts Zeke, "I'll have you know that I can be very very quiet when my mouth is appropriately busy….if you know what I mean." He makes a play and steals the ball away from Uriah and hops from foot to foot dribbling the ball. "What I mean is that…"

Just at that moment, Mrs. Pedrad pops her head out of the kitchen door and yells that dinner is almost ready and we should come in to clean up. I wasn't officially invited for dinner, it was just understood. She always makes a point to include me in whatever their family is doing. I know she secretly feels sorry for me, that my mom is gone and it's just me and my dad. Most of the time, I appreciate it, but sometimes it just reminds me that my mom left me behind. I say thank you and we all head inside to get cleaned up.

Dinner with the Pedrads is always an adventure. Zeke and Uriah are less than a year apart, but they ended up in different grades in school because of when their birthdays fall. Zeke's birthday is in January, but Uriah is turning sixteen in a few months. We have been friends since Marcus made me be a cub scout. They are by far my closest and oldest friends, they know almost everything there is to know about me, but they don't know everything. No one knows everything but Marcus. I can't trust anyone with the whole truth, that is too much of a risk.

After dinner we head to the basement to play the old version of Fortnight on the playstation until I have to go home. Even though it is Friday night, I still have a strict curfew. It doesn't matter that Marcus is on a date or at a business dinner, or whatever he wants to call it. He will check the security camera to know what time I came home. It isn't worth it. By now the guys know that he is strict about the curfew, so they don't give me any grief when I get up and head to the door around 10:15 p.m. "Please tell your mom thank you for dinner again, it was delicious. I'll see you guys on Monday."

Friday Night - Tris POV

I am sitting in the Amtrak passenger car headed in the direction of Bloomington, IL. Judging by the station we just left, I have about an hour left on the train to finish the rest of Beowulf. Then all my homework will be done. If I finish it tonight on the train, I can just have fun with Mom tomorrow.

I don't glance up when a new batch of people wander through the car looking for seats. They probably got on at the platform we just left. A young man sits in the seat directly across from me even though the passenger car is only about half full and there are plenty of other seats where he wouldn't be next to or directly across from anyone. I continue to read my book and pay little attention to him at first. After about five minutes, I can still feel his eyes on me so I look up. He is older than me, probably in college. When he sees me look up he smiles, slow and wide... I smile back without teeth to be polite, and plan to bury myself back in my book, but he wants to chat. The more I ignore him, the more insistent he becomes.

He hasn't said or done anything wrong, but the attention is still unwanted. Finally he gets mad and says, "Look, I am just trying to talk to you. You don't have to be such an uptight bitch!"

I quickly think of how best to handle the situation. Normally, I'd be polite and mild mannered and end up being forced to make small talk with this jerk for the next hour, but that was Beatrice. I am Tris now, and Tris doesn't have to be accomodating all of the time. I have an idea. I close my book with a snap and fix this guy with a blank stare and clearly say, "What makes you think you can talk to me like that?"

He sputters dramatically and looks shocked, but I don't wait for him to say anything or for my nerve to falter. I say very clearly and loud enough for the next nearest passenger to hear me, "I have been as patient as I am willing to be. I am not interested in talking to you, or listening to you, or knowing you in any way. I'd like for you to go sit somewhere else." I did not raise my voice or plead, and I wasn't exactly rude, but the business man across the aisle from us has heard what I said and is paying attention. The college guy closes his gaping mouth and looks at me, then at the older man across the aisle, as if he is appealing to the stranger to side with him on this one. Then he just gets up and walks to the next passenger car up the train. I go back to my reading and smile to myself. I could get used to assertive Tris, who stands up for herself and what she wants.

My mom meets the train at the Bloomington station. When I see her standing patiently on the platform, I can't help but grin. I missed her so much these past several weeks. I can't wait for her to finish up her classes and be home with us at the new house. I jog the last few feet to her and let her wrap me up in a mom-hug. The kind where you feel like she wraps her entire body around yours and you are just warm and safe and loved all the way around. We stand for just a moment tick-tocking from side to side like a metronome, and then she pulls back to look at me from arm's length, her eyes searching my face and says, "You have a lot to tell me."

It is true, but still disconcerting when she turns her momtuition on me. She sees things in people that no one else does, she has always been that way. Kind and giving, strong and devoted, brave and loving. I realize as we walk to the car, that those are qualities I want to have, though I will likely fall short. It comes naturally for her, and I have to work at it.

When we get to the car, I toss my backpack and small duffle bag in the back seat then sit in the front, just as I have all week when I get into Tobias' car. Mom observes me quietly and says, "That was clever, now you don't have bags under your feet."

I shrug and tell her that it must be a habit now, "It was Four's suggestion Monday before school and now I don't even think about it."

"Four. Yes you mentioned him on Monday. Fill me in the rest of the way while we drive."

I think for a moment, how do I describe Tobias Eaton to my mother who sees everything, even the things you wish could remain hidden. "He is a Junior. His dad, Marcus, is Dad's boss and I guess they got to talking at work and came up with the idea we should carpool to school."

"Yes, your father told me all of that last night when I finally pinned him down. I can't believe he didn't even ask you before making all those arrangements."

"I know. I wasn't thrilled at the idea, but it has worked out. His name is Tobias Eaton, but everyone calls him Four. Before you ask, no, I don't know why. He will probably tell me eventually, but I don't want to push."

"Why do you think he will eventually tell you something that might be private?"

"It might not be private. Maybe it is his lucky number, or his baseball jersey number, or something simple. Either way, I think he will eventually tell me what it means. He asked me to call him Tobias when we are alone, and he said he was my friend."

"He said he was your friend? I thought he was slated to be your boyfriend if your match-making father has his way?" she slurs suggestively.

I laugh at her tone, clearly my mom is not ready to let dad off the hook for his manipulative behaviour. "Well, just because Dad and Marcus want something, doesn't mean it is going to happen. Four and I have some free will here. It is still up to us what kind of relationship we have or don't, and right now, when I have known him less than a week? That relationship status is friends."

"Do you want him to be more?" My mom has such a way with words, she makes you think of the simple and the complex in bite size pieces, and before you know it, you have worked out a solution to the problem.

"I don't want him to be less. I know that. Even if I don't know anything else right now."

"That is enough to know. What do you want on your pizza? I am half starved and I know Gram and Pop haven't got anything quick in the house."

Gram and Pop live in an old craftsman house on a corner near the center of Colfax, IL. Pop is a retired preacher from the Central Christian Church of Colfax, IL and they still attend Sunday services there every week, plus Wednesday night prayer group and they run the Vacation Bible School for the town children in the summer. Gram has the most amazing garden in town. She grows zucchinis as big as your arm and the most beautiful roses. She won a prize for her roses not too many years ago and I don't think I have ever seen her so proud. PRIDE is not something to be admired in their home, "HUMILITY is the goal of a servant of Christ..." I can hear Pop in my head as I think the words.

As a child I remember catching frogs in jars and roaming among the tomato plants that were so tall and sturdy they might have been trees to three year old me. We would weed and gather in the garden in the morning before it got hot, then have grilled cheese and homemade soup for lunch. Every afternoon I'd say I wasn't tired and didn't want a nap. Gram would just nod and say, "Ok, well climb on up in the window seat and read your book. I think I want to knit a while." The next thing I knew, it was hours later and I hadn't read a page, but I had the most amazing dreams in that window seat.

My childhood summers were spent with Gram and Pop, Caleb's too, because both of our parents worked in Bloomfield, about a half an hour west of Colfax. I suppose it might have made sense for us to all just live in Bloomfield, but they never moved away from Colfax until this summer. Technically mom hasn't moved yet, she is living with Gram and Pop for this last semester and is commuting for both work and school.

Now, I walk into the familiar living room, just a little too formal for modern times, but Gram refuses to seat company on a sectional couch. I take a deep breath of the one-of-a-kind-smell of grandma's house; it is a mixture of lemon oil, cooked vegetables, air dried laundry, and something that no one can quite put their finger on, but it just makes them feel better anyway. These days, my old napping spot is presided over by the cat, Annabelle. She hogs the sunny spot and has a big folded quilt, from which she can observe the world inside and outside the house. Gram swears she earns her keep by mousing, but I don't think I have ever seen her move fast enough to catch a mouse.

My mom is ahead of me in the doorway to the kitchen holding the pizza box. She turns and raises one eyebrow to ask me why I stopped. I shake my head and say, "Oh, it smells the same. It just always makes me remember being here when I was little" then follow her into the kitchen.

"You should try being here as an adult then… and living here. I know that it is a blessing that I have this time with my parents, and I know that this sacrifice makes the most sense for everyone." She looks up from the paper plates and napkins she put on top of the pizza box and continues, "But I sure do miss being with you and your Dad. Let's take this down to the basement where we don't have to worry about being quiet."

The basement is a semi finished space. Pop didn't see the point in all the expense of finishing a basement after all of his kids had left the house, but Mom and Gram talked him halfway into it. Their arguments were resale value, and more usable space, all the expected tactics. What finally got him to go along with it was the promise of a room of his own to do with as he pleased.

Gram figured he would make it a workshop or an office, but he surprised everyone by turning it into an indoor model train room. The entire room has tracks running around the perimeter and there are several island platforms in the center of the room connected by tiny train trestle bridges. He has built little villages, complete with post office, and sidewalks, spent hours researching actual towns that actual railroads once serviced back in the glory days of steam engines. Then he painstakingly acquired all the correct pieces of those trains. If he is given the slightest opportunity to tell you about them, you should run screaming in the opposite direction, because the conversation will be a long one. The door to his train room is always closed, even when Pop is in there. It isn't closed to keep people out, or to keep the noise of the trains in, it is simply to keep the cat from laying down on the tracks and being a fluffy roadblock.

Mom and I bypass the train room and head to the finished downstairs den. In another house it would be called a TV room or a gameroom, the preferred teenage hangout complete with a fridge and microwave oven. There are sodas in the fridge and I grab ginger ale for us to go with the pepperoni pizza. Mom and I sit at the old bamboo card table and I pick up my pizza sighing, and take a huge bite.

"Beatrice, I think you forgot something." My mom says. I notice too late that she has not even picked up her slice. "In this house we pray over our food."

"I am sorry Mom, I wasn't thinking. I have gotten out of the habit." I put my pizza down and wait patiently for her to murmur a blessing before we both pick up our lukewarm pizza and eat.

"I understand Beatrice, but you need to remember that while we are in your grandfather's house, we will abide by his wishes." The four of us, Mom and Dad, Caleb and I, have never been a zealous religious family, but I can definitely tell that the removal from Colfax has relaxed things further. I don't think that Dad or I have said a blessing over dinner in weeks. It honestly hasn't even occurred to me until right now, when Mom scolded me. However gentle she was, she still managed to make me ashamed of my behavior and regret that we have been so careless. How is it that I now feel guilty about blessings I didn't say over dinner in the past? She is good! I don't know how she does it, but there is something magical about mom-guilt, even when she herself doesn't feel that strongly about the matter, she would never disrespect her father by not abiding by his rules, even when he isn't here to see it and will never know one way or the other. What is the harm in being grateful, anyway. I resolve to do better in the future.

The pizza is finished, we are on our second shared ginger ale. Mom leans back in her chair and places her hands in her lap, and looks at me expectantly, "Now, I think it's time you tell me what your father has been up to."

"Up to?"

"Yes, your father has never once batted an eye at the boys you hang around. Not that there were many... classmates or the sons of friends mostly, but what has changed in the last two months that he is suddenly playing matchmaker? Did he even ask you first? You've never dated before. It isn't that you weren't allowed, you never showed any interest in anyone special that I know of. What is he thinking?" She pauses and looks at my hands, then back to my face expectantly.

I chuckle a little under my breath, "That was a lot of questions all at once Mom! I will do my best to answer them, but I honestly do not know why he did it. I suspect that it was actually Mr. Eaton's idea and Dad went along with it to make a good impression. Four agrees with me, but he doesn't know why his dad did it either."

"That is preposterous. You are not some bargaining chip to be laid down to advance his career! This is insulting and I can't believe he didn't think of how this would make you feel. Rest assured, I will be speaking with your father!"

"No, Mom. It's ok, really. What he did was wrong, yes. The reasons, and the way he went about it were wrong also, but, honestly it isn't really a big deal now."

"Why not now?"

"Four and I have talked about it. He knew what our dad's were up to before I did but couldn't get out of it. So, on Tuesday morning, he told me the truth. He said he didn't think it was fair that he knew about our dad's ulterior motives when I didn't, and he didn't want me to feel blindsided at dinner when I met his dad. He was so cute, and sweet, and awkward trying to explain that he didn't mind spending time with me but didn't want to date me, well, didn't want to date me unless I also wanted it. I can't even remember what he said he bumbled and stumbled through it so badly. The point is what is important. I believe that he didn't want to take advantage of the situation and that he is a good person."

"Hmm. Well, I will still be speaking to your father about his involvement in this. It could have gone so very badly if Four wasn't so honorable." She glances at the wall clock by the fridge and says, "It's getting late Sweetie. I would love to stay up all night and hear about your classes and your new friends, but we have tomorrow to catch up more. Do you want to sleep in the upstairs guest room or the one down here?"

"I will help you carry the pizza box upstairs and grab my bags, I left them by the front door. I think I would rather sleep down here. It stays darker in the guest room here a little longer and I might get to sleep in a bit. Do you think Susan would go for a run with me tomorrow if I give her a call after breakfast? You don't mind if I call her do you?"

"Of course not Sweetie. I want you to see your friends while you are here too. I can't keep you all to myself, I know that. Sweet Dreams and goodnight."

"Goodnight Mom. Mom? I love you." She smiles and turns out the hall light on her way to her bedroom at the back corner of the house. Her room overlooks Gram's garden. The guest room in the basement is directly beneath hers. It feels good knowing she is right above me.