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“Observant,” I said.
“Thanks. I get it from my daddy.”
My eyes whipped over to my neighbor, and I watched a sort of pain rise in her eyes. Her gaze faltered, and
she swallowed hard. To most, the moment would’ve passed them by without them acknowledging it. But I saw it, and I knew. It was a pain only those who had experienced it would recognize. I held her gaze as she brought her eyes back to mine and held out the cookies for me to take. My heart thundered in my ears for a few seconds.
“We made these for you,” she said. “I’m Cindy, by the way.”
“What for?” I asked.
“The cookies?” she asked. “For helping my daughter with her knee.”
“See? It’s all better now thanks to you,” the little girl said.
“I didn’t do much. Your mother took care of you,” I said.
“Well, you helped,” the little girl said.
“Hardly.”
“Just take the cookies,” she said, looking annoyed like only a five-year-old could.
It was hard not to laugh.
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yep. I get that from Mommy.”
I watched a grin spread across Cindy’s cheeks as a pang of hurt pinched my gut. She really was a beautiful woman and filled with a hurt I understood.
In any other lifetime, I might’ve even cared to introduce myself to her.
“What’s your name?” the little girl asked.
“What’s yours?” I asked.
“Lillian. But everyone calls me Lily.”
“Graham,” I said.
I held a brief staring contest with the little girl until a smile broke across her face.
“Take the cookies,” she said.
“They’re for you, after all,” Cindy said.
“You didn’t have to make them,” I said.
“And you didn’t have to help my daughter,” Cindy said.
“I guess she does get her feistiness from you.”
Another moment passed between us before I reached my hand out to take the plate of cookies.
“How’s your knee?” I asked.
“It’s fine. Mommy put me in a bath, and it really hurt, but I was brave,” Lily said.
