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Chapter 10
A life in a day of Tris Prior
Tris' POV
Five o'clock in the morning. That seems to be my new favorite time to wake up. Every morning I wake up, take a few deep breaths and get myself into the shower. I stand under the hot water, forcing the circulation into my body to wake up. I dress for the day and make my bed before heading downstairs for some delicious, hot coffee. I take a large travel mug with me to the store to begin the day's baking ritual.
As of two days ago I actually started to receive cookie orders from customers, along with the regular cookies that go into the display case. Four jokes about the need to sooner or later hire more hands to help me out in the kitchen. It turns out the added Christmas lights and decorations, along with the cleaning, organizing and the baked goods have really helped out with the business. We are actually really busy, which Four is really excited about.
.
So every morning I begin to get a head start on the day. Starting with the first batch of cookies. Every night before I leave to go to bed, I have gotten into the routine of leaving out both the butter and eggs so by the time I come back they are at room temperature and the butter has softened. Every minute counts in the morning, as I fight against the time before we open at ten o'clock in the morning.
I have spoken to Four about adding a complimentary coffee and hot cocoa bar to draw in more customers from the cold. The hot liquid will easily be an excuse to linger in the store longer, giving them more time to look around. Four loved the idea.
I know it sounds like a chaotic work style. I probably would agree except that I know it's only temporary. Soon the season will be over, Four won't need me anymore and my car should be fixed soon. The thought of leaving here does sadden me. I don't know what I would miss more, the warm bed I have come to love, the stable routine to my day, a workplace that I actually feel appreciated for…. Or the owner. I can't help it, that man is so pretty.
"Thanks again. Have a good night. Drive safe." I call out to my last remaining customers, locking the door behind them. I get to work fixing the last few items that are out of place. I begin cashing out the register before moving on to the display case. I wiped away any crumbs from today's batch of cookies. Not one left. I enter the kitchen, glancing around for any task left undone. But there's nothing. I run a pretty clean shift for just one person. I glance at my watch, it's only eight. I contemplate on heading back to the main house, maybe getting some dinner, taking a hot bath or even heading to bed early. But my thoughts have other ideas. Ideas that have been lingering in my mind for days now…
I start off by measuring the correct amount of flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. I sift them all together, making sure there are no lumps in my mixture. I begin to cut very cold butter into the flour mixture when the front door chimes open. For a moment I second guessed myself, thinking maybe I didn't lock the door. But I instantly remembered locking it after the last customer. There is only one other person with a set of keys to the store. I instantly sigh in relief when that so-called person walks into the kitchen. He smiles his handsome smile when he sees me elbow deep in flour.
"I thought I would come here and check on you." Four says, glancing at my very powdery hands. "But it looks like you're in the middle of something." He says, smiling widely.
"Yeah, I wanted to try out a new recipe I had been thinking about," I explained, getting back to cutting my butter into the flour mixture. One thing about this recipe, you can't let the butter warm up.
"Really?" Four questions, intrigued. He pulls up a bar stool, sitting a few feet away from me. He takes an immediate interest in what exactly I'm up to.
"Just ummm…. An eggnog scone recipe." I explain as I pour in just a few tablespoons of eggnog into the mixture. After I add an egg into the mixture and combine completely, I turn the dough over a floured surface and begin to work the dough into a rough rectangle.
"You're a natural." Four says, admiring my handy work.
"I haven't made scones in years with my mother," I slip out, I have spoken more about my mother the past few weeks with Four than I have in so long.
"You miss your Mom?" He asks, surprising me with his question.
"Yeah, I do," I answered, taking a moment to answer. "She's this kind, wonderful woman… She has created an act in losing herself. Always putting others first." I say, looking down at the dough. I shrug the sadness from my mind as I reach out and take the closest knife I see. I cut the scones into triangles, trying to remind myself to cut them as close in size as possible.
"And your dad?" Four asks, as I transfer the dough onto a baking sheet with parchment paper and slide them into the oven. I set the timer, taking a moment to think about my answer.
To so many others, it would seem stupid if it made any sense at all about the reason why I felt like I had to leave them.
"I turn towards Four, wanting to be honest with him. But fearing what he would think of me. Would he think of me as weak, or selfish… Because I couldn't get myself to fit into their world.
"My father is the king of selflessness. I also admired how he could easily forget or walk away from things and focus on what was more important… Or who." I explained. It's now at this moment that I decide I don't want to keep this from him. "My parents have made it their life career to help others and to serve others."
"Well they live their life to help others. Nothing wrong with that." Four says, confused.
"Of course not. That's the best thing any person could do…Except I couldn't," I confess. "Never celebrating a birthday, or a holiday for ourselves… Only celebrating for others. My parents raised us to never think about ourselves, our images, our own needs and wants. Sure we had a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food in our stomachs. But I wanted more. I wanted to experience things that others got to." I explain, not sure if I am making any sense. "I tried to fit into that world. I just couldn't. I am selfish. So I left."
"I don't believe that for a minute. "Four says, shaking his head from side to side as he mutters the word selfish under his breath. "You came in here… And helped rebuild this farm and store back up to what it once was,,, Better in fact."
"I did it because I needed your help more than you needed mine," I admit. Isn't doing something for someone for your own benefit being selfish?
"Tris, you could have easily told me no. You could have easily demanded that you do less. The bakery part… It's all you. You did that out of the kindness of your heart.'' He points out. My heart melts at his words, his ocean blue eyes are beyond intense, more than I have ever seen them.
"Thank you, Four" I say in appreciation.
"Is that why you left?" He asks, coming to the conclusion exactly how I got into this mess. I shake my head yes, answering him silently. Our gaze is caught on each other. The timer goes off, snapping us both from our deep gaze into each other's eyes. I grab the oven mittens before opening and retrieving the baking sheet from the oven. I place the pan on top of the stove, transferring the scones from the baking sheet to the cooling rack.
"Those do smell good." Four compliments.
"Thanks," I say, agreeing with him. I reach into the fridge retrieving the glaze that I made earlier in the night; with a spoon I drizzle the delicious smelling glaze onto the scones. Without so much of a word, I slide a scone onto a paper plate and hand it to Four. He quickly takes the plate, eyeing the plate before picking up the scone and taking a bite. He lets out this deep throat moan that sends delicious shivers down my spine. I try to clear my throat, hoping that it would clear the shivers in my body.
"Is it good?" I ask teasingly as he eagerly takes another bite.
"Yes, I want another one. Can I have another?" He asks. I laugh in response to his answer as he stands up and steps a little closer to me. "You gotta try this." He says, inching his scone closer and closer towards my mouth. I swear I see fireworks going off, wanting nothing more for his desires to be mine.
I take a small bite of the scone in his hand, our eyes never leaving each other's or skipping a beat.
"Good, right?" He asks, as I chew. I nod, agreeing with him, afraid of my own voice.
"Yeah, I think they will go nicely in the display case with the cookies, Four." I say, softly.
"Do me a favor?" He asks, not pausing to hear my response. He says, "don't call me Four."
"So what should I call you then?" I ask, anticipating his answer.
"Nothing for now." He says, his tone soft and serious.
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Revised by FDFobsessed
