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“Good morning,” Stella said cheerfully. “I can see you’re taking good care of yourself this morning.”
“Exercise is the only thing I can control, Mrs. Moon.” I was soaked in sweat, which made me feel embarrassed and a little awkward standing with the pretty, petite Moon matriarch. “I love food but I have to earn it.”
“Please, call me Stella. And food isn’t something you have to earn. God gave us taste buds for a reason.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Stella Moon obviously hadn’t met my father.
“I hope you’re coming to my baking lesson later?” Stella asked.
“Um … I didn’t realize that was happening today.”
“Yes, right after lunch. Elliot’s giving up her pastry station. It’ll be fun.”
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by declining, so I found myself agreeing. “I love cookies.”
“Who doesn’t?” Stella asked, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes as if to figure me out. “Are you enjoying your time here?”
“Yes, very much.”
“That’s good.” She said it without conviction, still studying me. I had the urge to run. “Just like food is something to savor, vacation is a time for self-reflection and perhaps a mind shift. That said, it’s okay to have fun just for fun’s sake.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You remind me of my son Soren. Succinct in your speech.” She smiled, patting my arm. “You’re a good boy. I’ll see you later. Don’t let me down now.”
“No, ma’am. Wouldn’t think of it.”
“And be careful going out in the cold in damp clothes. You best run to your cabin. But don’t slip.”
“Thank you, I’ll be careful.”
“Good.” She waved toward the door. “Off you go.”
Mama Moon was not a woman to question. One simply did what she asked. Which meant I was about to learn how to decorate a cookie.
I showed up a few minutes late for the cookie lesson and expected everyone would be there. Instead it was only Luci and Stella.
“I told you he’d come,” Stella said, beaming at me. “Are you ready to get your hands sticky?”
“Yeah, sure.” I smiled back at her. “But don’t expect much. I’ve never baked a cookie in my life.”
“Really?” Luci asked. “Not even the kind that come in that plastic roll?”
“Oh, dear me, don’t speak of it,” Stella said, laughing. “We must always make cookies from scratch.”
“We must?” Luci asked, wide-eyed.
“You don’t know what kind of preservatives they put in store-bought cookies,” Stella said. “Only way to know for sure is to make them with your own hands. That’s true of most things in life, don’t you think?”
I nodded in agreement. Resistance was futile.
“Is it just us?” Luci asked, darting a glance in my direction.
“Yes, no one else signed up,” Stella said. “Which is just fine, of course.”
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Luci said to me.
“I love cookies,” I said, shrugging. And you. “Plus, Stella asked me to.”
