I looked at her strangely over the plate of cookies.
“Because you are Italian?” I asked.
“Because I suck at them,” she said. “And being Italian and sucking at them is a great dishonor to my people.”
I laughed.
“Well, the cookies look fantastic. What have we got here,” I said, removing the plastic cover, “Looks like snickerdoodle and chocolate chips.”
“I couldn’t decide what kind of cookies to make, so I kind of went crazy and made four different kinds. Wine might have been involved.”
“Well, chocolate chips and snickerdoodle are my absolute favorites, so great job there.” I picked one of the chocolate chip ones up. It broke perfectly in a soft tear in my hand, and I shoved half of it in my mouth. “Damn good too. What are these other ones? Is that peanut butter? And sugar cookies?”
“You nailed it,” she said. “I went for a full range of cookie-dom here. Winter means sugar cookies are a must, but nothing says winter to me like the peanut butter cookies my mom used to make. Then the chocolate chip and snickerdoodle are there because…” She took a moment, her eyes rising to the top of her eyelids as if she were thinking hard for a reason. “They taste good.”
“That kind of got away from you there, didn’t it?” I asked, grinning.
She grinned back.
“Why go through all this effort for me, though?” I asked. “This is more cookies than I can eat in a week. Maybe more.”
“Well, like I said, I wanted to pay you back somehow,” she said. “This was the best I could come up with.”
She was smiling with anticipation as I took a bite of one of the peanut butter cookies. It was delicious, and the groan of appreciation probably let her know just how much.
I was genuinely surprised by her human decency. It was nice to have someone do something nice for me just for the sake of doing something nice. She could have gone home and likely never seen me again, but she wanted to thank me through cookies when I turned down her money. It warmed my heart.
“Are you going to share these with me?” I asked. “I can’t possibly eat all these.”
“I might grab a sugar cookie.”
“Good. Come, let’s sit down in the living room.” I guided her in and grabbed a napkin for my cookie and handed her one as well, shocking myself. I could count on one hand how often I brought actual crumbly food into the living room, away from the table. Usually, that was only because I was feeling ill and didn’t want to not be on the couch.
“You got the television going, I see,” she said.
“Yeah, I figured I could afford it since the snow is already melting and they don’t expect another blizzard like that this year,” I said. “I only run it a little, though. Still conserving energy.”
“It’s nice. The sound, I mean. It can get quiet in here,” she said, sitting down. “Oh, I left the book in here. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I was thinking of maybe reading it again.”
It was a lie, but I didn’t need to tell her that. I just didn’t want her to move it.
“Cool. So, again, I am sorry I intruded on you like that. And again today, I guess.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I was just glad I could help. How did your interview go?”
“I got the job,” she said excitedly. I felt myself being excited for her, which was strange. Why did I care so much?
“That’s great,” I said.
“It is. It isn’t in my field, but it’ll do for now.”
“What field is that again?” I asked. “I don’t think we discussed it at much length.”
“Social work,” she said. “I had to go to school for a long time for it, and I had a career back home in New York.”
“Why did you move here, then?” I asked. “You seem like the kind of person who enjoys being around people. Why come to Ashford, Tennessee, of all places?”
She paused for a moment, like she was trying to figure out why herself. Then she smiled and took a bite of her cookie, chewing thoughtfully before answering. A few crumbs tumbled down to the cushions, and she didn’t notice. I found it strange that I didn’t particularly care. I’d deal with that later.
“New York City is an amazing place. Culture, art, people. It’s just great. But it can get overwhelming. I got overwhelmed, you know? I decided that I wanted to go somewhere smaller and quieter. In New York, I felt like I was constantly putting a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. But here, I could make some real lasting change that would alter the course of a generation or more of people.”
I nodded.
“That’s very noble of you,” I said.
She blushed and bit down on her cookie again.