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“Take her some cookies. I baked them today.” Mom bustled around the kitchen, grabbed a container, and placed the cookies inside.
“She’ll definitely want cookies,” Cammie said.
For kids, you could solve anything with treats. For adults, it was different. I’d had no time to plan anything. I needed to see that she was okay, and I hoped she’d be happy to see us. Beyond that, I didn’t have a plan.
Before I headed outside, Mom said, “Please tell her that we want to help, too.”
My heart was heavy, thinking about what Brooke was going through. She’d taken a risk in renovating her store, and someone destroyed it. “I’ll tell her.”
Mom patted my cheek. “I’m glad you’re going to see her.”
I nodded, not able to tell her what I was thinking. That I was scared that it was too little, too late. I got into the car and headed toward Brooke’s house. Cammie was uncharacteristically quiet. It was almost like she sensed that I was worried.
I was concerned about what Brooke would say about me showing up, but at the same time, I had to make sure she was okay. And I needed Cammie to be with me. Something told me bringing her was the right thing to do.
I parked, helping Cammie out of the car. She insisted on carrying the container of cookies and skipped on the sidewalk ahead of me. There was no way Brooke could resist her.
Cammie knocked on the door before I could get there. I tensed on the porch, my hands in my pockets. What would she think when she saw us on her doorstep?
My heart was literally in my throat as we waited.
Cammie looked over her shoulder at me. “Is she home?”
“I don’t know.” She might be with friends. I hadn’t even thought about that. I’d been so determined to see her, to make sure she was okay.
Cammie rolled her eyes. “You didn’t tell her we were coming?”
I cleared my throat. “Not exactly.”
“Daddy,” she said, exasperated.
The door finally creaked open. Brooke stood there in a soft-looking T-shirt that read,Read and Drink Coffee,and black sweats. “What are you—”
Cammie pressed the container into her hands. “We brought you cookies.”
Brooke stood there, her gaze flitting from Cammie to me.
I knew I should say something, but the words were stuck in my throat.
Cammie placed her hands on her hips. “Can I have one?”
I cleared my throat. “Cammie, don’t be rude.”
Brooke shook her head. “I’m sorry. Of course, you can come in. Do you like milk with your cookies?” Brooke asked as we followed her into the kitchen.
I’d been there before, but tonight, I looked at it with fresh eyes. It was clean and simple.
Brooke placed a couple of cookies and a glass of milk in front of Cammie. “I’m assuming this is okay?”
“We were supposed to eat dinner first, but sure.” I could barely think straight, much less remember what we were supposed to be doing there.
Cammie slapped her forehead. “We were supposed to pick up a pizza on the way, Daddy.”
“We can order in.” That was true whether it was at Brooke’s or at my parent’s. Maybe I’d even take Cammie out to eat.
“I’m sorry we showed up unannounced, but we were worried about you.”
Brooke grabbed a long cardigan from a nearby stool and wrapped it around her body like she was holding herself together. “I’m fine.”
