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Ivy was already at the information desk, hounding Mary. “Ivy,” I scolded, “manners.”
“Sorry, Ms. Mary,” she stepped back from the counter, “but do you have any cookies? I’d really like one.” I eyed her and she added, “Please.”
Mary leaned on the counter, pretending to think. “I might have some cookies I can spare.” She bent down behind the counter and rummaged around. “Aha!” She placed a large metal tin on the counter. “Here’s the cookies, they’re peanut butter chip.”
“I love peanut butter!” Tristan exclaimed.
“Shh,” I hushed him. “We’re in a library which means you have to be really quiet,” I whispered.
“Oops.” Tristan looked around. “Sowwy.”
“It’s, sorry,” I corrected. “Use your R’s.”
“Sorry?” He tilted his head. “Did I say it right?”
“Yep, you’ve got it right.”
“Does that mean I can have a cookie now?” He questioned.
“Yeah, you can have a cookie,” I smiled at him.
“Yay!” He said in a hushed whisper, waving his arms in excitement.
“Thank you,” I told Mary.
“You’re welcome,” she placed the lid back on the tin once each kid had two cookies in their hands. Whispering, she said, “Grab this on your way out. I made way too many and don’t need them.”
“I can’t take your cookies,” I shook my head.
“Thanksgiving is tomorrow, sweetie, my house is going to be full of sweets. I don’t need them.”
“Well, thank you.”
“You know you’re welcome to bring the kids and come to my house for Thanksgiving,” she offered. Mary was one of the nicest people I’d ever met and she always wanted to help.
“Thanks for the offer, Mary, but I’m going to make dinner for them.”
She smiled, glancing over at the kids who were sitting at one of the tables munching on their cookies. “What you do for them…it’s remarkable, Rowan.”
“Hardly,” I shrugged, brushing off her comment.
“No, really it is,” she continued. “Most people your age…they would’ve abandoned them, saying they have parents to look after them, but not you. You stayed.”
“I have my reasons,” I murmured, staring off into space.
“Regardless,” she waved her hand in dismissal of my statement, “I’m proud of you.”
I looked up at her in surprise. Proud of me? No one had ever told me they were proud of me before. I’d always been told I was worthless, useless, and a pain in the ass. I wasn’t called nice things, and unfortunately I was used to it. Kindness wasn’t something I experienced often, and when I did I clung to it with strong fingers. I let her words warm me all over. I didn’t know it could feel so good to have someone tell you they were proud of you. It seemed like such a simple thing to say, but it could have such a profound effect.
“I-I…thank you,” I finally said.
“For what?” She tilted her head.
“Nothing,” I muttered. I couldn’t explain to Mary how much her words had meant to me.
I sat down at the table with Ivy and Tristan as they finished their cookies. I cleaned up their crumbs and led them to the kids’ section.
“There’s so many books, Row,” Tristan looked around in awe.
