At work the next day, Rhonda was back. In my absence she had taken over the cookie lettering, but her spirit wasn’t really in it. I saw a cookie that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JERK and another one that just said THIS IS A COOKIE. Shockingly, neither of them had sold.
Chad looked at me with desperate eyes. “We missed you. We missed you so hard.”
I tried, but it was hard to have the spirit to make funny cookies when you feel like the world is collapsing. I had sent texts to all my friends the night before apologizing, asking to be let back in, wanting to rejoin the crew, but nobody had written back. Was that it? Had I missed my chance? And what did that mean for Elijah and me? My text to him was hanging out there, like a tiny little tree branch.
Hey. I’m really sorry about everything this week. Forgive me?
Being at work somehow made it hurt worse. I remembered the times he’d come to visit me as my shift was ending, our first time shopping, the dinner at the Rainforest Café—we’d barely had a chance to start a relationship before it looked like it was going to be over.
At four o’clock I looked up and he was there. Standing in his heavy coat even though it had warmed up outside. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring at the counter. He didn’t approach. I made eye contact with him, but he was barely looking in my direction.
Fine. I went into the back and got my tube of icing. I wrote out I’M SORRY on a huge chocolate chip cookie and placed it in the display case. Elijah took a look at it, then stepped up to Rhonda.
“I’ll take that one,” he said, putting fourteen dollars down.
Rhonda handed him the cookie, and Elijah backed up about twenty feet, holding it in his hands, still staring at the counter, and still not really looking at me. I got out my icing again.
The second cookie said I MISSED YOU SO MUCH. He bought that one, too.
Then he bought one that said I’VE BEEN REALLY STUPID.
I put the fourth cookie in the display and stared at him. His arms were full now, like a pizza delivery guy. He looked at the newest cookie.
I THINK I LOVE YOU.
“I’ll take that one, too,” he said, his voice cracking, handing Rhonda the last of his money.
Chad came over and looked at the stack of cookies in Elijah’s arms.
“You must really like her cookies,” said Chad.
“You have no idea,” said Elijah.
I reached over the counter and took his hand. “Come here,” I said, pulling him back near the prep table. I took another blank cookie and got my icing ready.
KISS—no reaction—ME—he trembled—YOU—he stopped, curious—FOOL.
And then he was kissing me. His lips were soft and full and warm, and I felt the squish of his coat, and he pressed to the side of me.
Chad and Rhonda clapped.
“Woo!” called out Chad. “That was a hoot! That was—”
Then he saw that I’d written another cookie that simply said:
LET’S DESTROY THESE MOTHERFUCKERS.
I didn’t get a chance to see how fast that one sold, because we were already out the door.