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Tommy
Tommy was true to his promise. That evening he had read to Lucille as she dropped off into a much needed rest. The next day, he had pulled her out of her depressed slump and the three of them disappeared into the kitchen, ready to bake.
Before the war, Tommy would have laughed at the thought of himself baking. Although it was mainly Lucille doing the work, he was happy to watch her as she did so. He found a calmness in it that he had craved and needed since he first landed in France. It was just a shame that at some point it would be all over.
As for Dawson, he had never been happier. Food was a great passion of his, especially when it came to pastries. As Lucille stirred the cake mixture, every so often he would pop his head in through the door, steal some of it and then return to where he was playing with her dog. As for Tommy, she had tried to get him to help her, but unsurprisingly it turned out that when it came to baking, he was completely incompetent.
"Crack the egg." She told him, as he stared down, hands in pockets, at the mess that had been made on the kitchen bench.
Lucille rolled her eyes as he moved slowly. She took the egg from his hands and cracked it against the bowl herself, dropping the egg into the mixture and putting the shell into the bin. Her messy hands were on her hips as she sighed.
"It's really not that hard." Lucille insisted, as she placed another egg in his hand, motioning for him to try it himself. "Go on."
Tommy moved himself in front of the bowl and lifted his hand up, cracking the egg robotically. His hand hit against the bowl hard, the shell crushing under the force and spilling over the bench below. Lucille laughed as she watched him attempt to catch the slippery substance between his fingers. And with no luck, the remnants of the egg dropped to the floor with a crack.
"How did you manage that?" She exclaimed, a laugh in her voice still evident.
Lucille moved to clear it up, but Tommy stopped her by the waist, insisting that he would do it. She continued in with the mixing and adding of flour as he cleared up the egg, before coming to stand beside her again, watching as she worked.
"How about you read to me instead?" She suggested.
Tommy smiled at her sudden shyness in the request. "If that's what you'd like."
Lucille beamed as she watched him pick up the book from the bench. "That's what I'd love."
Tommy began to read slowly as she went on with the baking. That was another thing that he couldn't believe he was doing. He had never been able to read as well as he had with Lucille.
When it came to the blonde french girl, he found himself thinking about her often. Even when she was upset, like in that moment, she had a shining smile on her face. It was contagious, making Tommy smile too as he watched her. She hadn't noticed that he'd somehow stopped reading as he was lost in his own thoughts, as she was too.
But when she had noticed, she smiled and turned to face him, capturing his lingering gaze and blushed. "You've stopped reading?"
Tommy stood up and placed the book down where he had sat. He ignored the question as he peered into the bowl from beside her.
"How the bloody hell do you remember all this?" He asked, as she measured out the remainder of the flour.
"It's easy." She said, as she passed him the bowl of flour to pour in. "It's a ratio, six to six to six to three. Three being the egg."
Lucille smiled as she reached into the flower bowl, her fingers slipping through the powder that gathered in her palm. She moved it toward the mixing bowl, before quickly switching angles and sprinkling it onto Tommy. He puffed out.
"What was that for?" He asked, as he brushed it off of himself, which only smudged it and rubbed the powder in further.
"You needed to lighten up a bit." She shrugged.
"Lighten up?"
"I don't know if I've ever told you this before, but I have never met someone who wanted so much from life without wanting life itself." Lucille turned to him, looking up with a sad smile. "Don't think I haven't noticed."
Tommy smiled at her. Her eyes widened as she saw his hand sneak into the flour jar, pulling out a hand full.
"Don't you dare!" She screeched as he brought his hand up and got his revenge. Lucille was covered in flour, her eyes clenched closed.
She paused for a moment, before smiling and laughing it off. "Come on, I want to show you something."
She grabbed his hand, pulling him outside. As they passed him, she shouted, "You coming Dawson?"
He watched them with a cheeky smile. He nodded down to where Coco was running circles around his feet. "No, you two go, the dog will miss me too much."
"Where're we going?" Tommy asked.
They were heading down the courtyard toward a path that was lined in tall and droopy trees. Toward the end, the fields that Lucille had always spoke about could be seen. Her hand was still in his, but they walked side by side.
"You'll see. Though I'm sure you could guess." She said.
"The fields?"
Lucille glanced to him from the corner of her eye. She nodded. And to the fields they went.
