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“Well, then, it’s the perfect time to start,” I tell him.
“Can we make Christmas cookies?” he asks me. “I saw a show on PBS kids where they did that!”
“Hmmm.”
I am pretty sure this house isn’t stocked with ingredients for Christmas cookies, since his dad had told me to order lunch from a deli and have it delivered. Plus, I’m not a very good baker.
But suddenly I realize I know someone who is. And she also happens to have all the supplies on hand to make any kind of confectionary creation we might want, including Christmas cookies.
“We might be able to,” I tell Charlie. “Just give me a second to call someone.”
“Who are you calling?” he asks, his eyes full of curiosity now.
“My friend who made your birthday cake,” I inform him.
“Yay!” he says, getting off the couch and jumping up and down.
It seems like he’s forgotten about missing his dad.
Mission accomplished.
If only Sally will answer her phone and get over here.
* * *
“So, do you want these gingerbread cookies to have hot tamales or skittles for eyes?” Sally asks a while later, as we’re finishing up the Christmas cookies we made. “I have both.”
And she sure does. She brought all her supplies once she finally came over, but it took her a while to call me back because she had been finishing up and then delivering a cake for a party. Luckily for us, but unluckily for Daniel, I guess, Charlie’s dad works long hours so there has still been plenty of time for us to make the cookies before he gets home.
“Skittles!” Charlie says. “I don’t like spicy candy.”
“I don’t blame you, kid,” Sally laughs.
Once we’re done decorating the cookies, Charlie asks me if he can watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special on TV in the living room.
“It’s named after me!” he adds.
“Is that so?” I chuckle, and Sally joins in.
“My daddy always says I can watch it after I eat,” he says.
Sally had picked up food from the deli on her way over, because I felt bad for making the employees walk it over here in the cold winter weather when Sally was already headed this way. We had eaten turkey sandwiches before we made the cookies.
“Okay,” I tell him, walking into the living room with him so that I could turn on Daniel’s Smart TV and figure out how to work the apps to play the show.
“I feel very accomplished for finally figuring out how to play Netflix on that expensive and very overly complicated TV,” I tell Sally, once I rejoin her in the kitchen, where she’s cleaning the dishes.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” I tell her. “He has a fancy maid service and told me that having to clean up is not in my job description so don’t worry about it. And I’m sure I can return the dishes to you tomorrow or whatever, unless you need them tonight for any baking projects?”
“It’s okay,” she says, as she continues running water over the mixing bowl in her hand. “I find cleaning up to be a part of the process and I find the entire baking process to be very calming. It’s like a routine I just follow in perfect order every time and then all is right with the world, no matter what.”
“That’s very Zen of you,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” she says, smiling. “It’s always hard for me to explain to people, so I’m glad you understand.”
“Thank you for coming to save the day and showing me how to make Christmas cookies,” I tell her. “Or maybe you should be thanking me, for helping you achieve your Zen state.”
“Exactly.” She’s chuckling now. “And it’s a rare treat to see a house this big.”
She lowers her voice and looks all around.
“This place is a mansion!”
“I know!” I tell her. “I can give you a tour…”
“It’s okay,” she says. “Some other time. I know you have to stick close to Charlie and I imagine this place is like a mile long and a mile high. Have you even been upstairs yet?”
I blush and look down at the tile kitchen floor.
“Wait a minute,” she says, under her breath. “Are you telling me that you guys already…”
“Yep,” I answer quickly, peering out into the living room to make sure that Charlie is sufficiently occupied by his movie and can’t hear what we’re saying. “I finally got my c-h-e-r-r-y popped.”
“Wow! By him?” she exclaims, as if completely surprised.
“Sally!” I protest. “I told you all about this. You’re the one who encouraged me to take this job and even to pursue this… whatever it is… that I have going on with him…”
“I know,” she laughs. “But it’s still shocking that it happened this fast! Right?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “It really is. I obviously didn’t plan on it….”
