SWIFTLY FLOW THE DAYS.

“ i know the feeling. “ and he did, for often he was convinced that he had never had an original thought in his life and perhaps he was only FOLLOWING after his brother and sisters.

“ but you ought not be too impatient. it’ll come in its time. “ edmund had learnt his lesson from rushing into it headlong. “ isn’t there anything you like more than all the other things ? “

       he almost offers to give her the exact recipe – he knows it very well, almost my heart – but then he remembers the very reason he brought it. kosher chocolate isn’t afforded by a milkman’s family, as evidenced by the bread && butter she’s brought (which, while delicious, is very indicative). the recipe would be of no use.

       && in any case… surely, his knowing of the recipe wouldn’t bode well for his reputation. men don’t cook.

      “if i- if we manage– my father && i, that is, to find the ingredients again, i’d love to share some with your family.” then, on accursed impulse, pushing the box in her direction: “why don’t you– um. take the rest home with you ?? we couldn’t eat it by ourselves. the rabbi– he- he has little appetite nowadays, && it dries quickly…”

       her words tug a nervous smile onto his lips, && his eyes flicker down. in a somewhat odd motion, he scratches the back of his neck (then does the same to the other side, to make sure of symmetry).

       “i should be thanking you, hodel. i’m sure you’re a busy girl, with little spare time, but you’re spending it with me.”

             she  can’t  help  the  smile  on  her  face  at  his  offer   —-   her  family  could  never  actually  afford  the  cake  he  had  provided,   and  he  was  just  giving  it  to  her   ?   an  immense  feeling  of  gratitude  washes  over  her  as  she  glances  down,   smile  remaining.   ❛   that’s  incredibly  kind  of  you,   mendel.   i’m  very  grateful   —-   and  i’m  sure  my  family  will  be  too.   especially  my  mama.   ❜

                 hodel  watches  him  push  the  box  towards  her,   and  she  reaches  out  to  accept  the  gift   —-   part  of  her  wants  to  hoard  it,   keep  it  for  herself.   however,   she  knows  that’s  wrong.   something  this  good  should  be  shared   —-   maybe  she’ll  just  keep  a  piece  or  two  for  herself  under  her  pillow,   so  she’s  guaranteed  to  have  it  again.   after  this  bit  of  self  conflict,   she  sets  the  box  by  her  side  and  looks back  up  at  mendel,   smile  still  remaining.

        ❛   chava   !   you’ll  never  guess  what  i  heard  mama  and  papa  talking  about  today.   ❜

         ❛   it  feels  like  perchik  is  always  working   —-   i  miss  my  husband.   ❜

              ❛   my  sister,   chava,   is  the  reader.   i  don’t  really  know  what  my  thing  is  yet   —-   but  maybe  i’ll  find  out  soon,   eh   ?   ❜

           ❛   if  you’re  looking  for  dairy,    my  father’s  the  one  to  talk  to.   otherwise  we  have  a  bookstore,   and  a  baker,   and  a  lot  of  other  things   —-   what  do  you  need  help  finding   ?   ❜

   * a pause. what had changed ? she’d borrowed a book from a stranger and upon further conversation he was more wonderful and intelligent than any man yente could ever match her with. though – the guilt washed over her, as it always did when thinking about fyedka. he did not follow tradition. he was outside of the faith — she drew an inward breath. now was no time to think about such things! “i… am sure, hodel.” a weak smile. “things are changing, you know? tzeitel and motel… perhaps they show we don’t always need a matchmaker to decide who we will be with.”