Cookie Collection by Tommia Wright

“Twelve, twelve, twelve,” Sophia counted before the timer sounded, catching movement out of the corner of her eye. “Get your fingers out of the batter,” She said snapping the spatula towards him.

“So you lose a cookie’s worth of dough, so what,” Higgins asked, stealing a mint candy instead. “Cookie, it isn’t-.”

She was beginning to hate the nickname, still uncertain how it came about between them. “I have at least another container to prepare before your sister gets here. If you’re not going to help, then get out. Wait, you chose not to help; get out.”

“I said I think you’re doing this all wrong, Cookie. Since when did these over-the-top preparations-?”

Sophia stepped from around the counter and pushed him towards his armchair. “Pretend you’re a quarterback or a grumpy coach. I’m not explaining this to you – again.” She had two more batches to bake, cool, then divide before it was safe to take the other items out of the fridge.

If her boyfriend couldn’t understand the importance of her family’s tradition, then maybe the odds of him joining the family were crumbling. At least she could vent to his sister and her husband.

“What happened to the tray of fudge and no-bake bars that were in here,” she asked. The former was her grandfather’s recipe, the latter her late-great aunt’s. Sophia had promised Vivian that there’d be plenty to share, but now-.

“Dunno. Might have finished them off last night.”

Sophia closed her eyes, counted to ten. “I told you to take the leftover pizza home with you. How does a tray-?”

“What’s the big deal? So you don’t have as many sweets to give away, so what? What’s the draw to-?”

“All those times you said you listened to me, I’m beginning to doubt you now. Did you even pay attention to my father when-?”

“He’s the strong, silent type, emphasis on silent. That’s why I like him. C’mon, are you going to be mad at me all through Christmas?”

“Silent Night can be more than a song, you know,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “If you want to be the Grinch, go ahead. You won’t rain on my plans. Put wrinkles in them, sure, but not ruin them. So help me, you didn’t do anything with the gifts I had in the closet.”

“Cookie, you don’t even have kids, so who-?”

“And at the rate your chivalry and true colors are showing, I doubt we’ll have any or many of our own in the near future.”

A half hour later, with Vivian’s blessed arrival, the three of them loaded the station wagon with the items to be given away. Higgins grabbed his coat and gloves to join.

“Oh no,” Sophia said, taking the last space behind Vivian in the car. “You can spend your holiday elsewhere, like your parents, maybe. My father might take pity on you and let you in, but not if I get to him first.”

“Now you’re acting childish,” Higgins said with one hand on the roof of the car, the other on the door she was trying to close.

Vivian’s husband stood to his full height. “Higgins, drive home while you can. I find out you’re harassing Sophia, then we’ll need to have a ‘talk.’ Understood?”

Sophia felt her face redden, thankful and regretful that her brothers weren’t here. At least Vivian’s husband had the kindness of giving a warning.

“See you next year,” Sophia said, pulling the door closed.

As the car pulled out of the driveway, the three of them waiting to see that Higgins would leave, Vivian reached around and grabbed Sophia’s free hand.

“Had I known he was related to Ebeneezer  I wouldn’t have introduced you to him.”

Sophia laughed before texting her father, asking him not to let Higgins in for the night, no matter what. “No worries. If he hasn’t figured me out now, I doubt he ever will, even if we said ‘I do.'” She felt her shoulders relax at her father’s reply and a promise of some warm Russian tea and teacakes waiting for her.

“Hey, we’ve some deliveries to make,” she said, then found herself humming a familiar holiday hymn.