CHRISTMAS COOKIES  

(a holiday short story extracted from my novel MEANT TO BE)

It was an exceptionally cold morning for early December. Even inside the train Daniel was freezing. Frank was rubbing his own hands together every two minutes just to warm up a little.

“You coming over tomorrow night?” Frank asked.

“I think so,” Daniel said. “Justine mentioned it last night, so I assume we’ll be there.”

“Good,” Frank said. “Marienne’s on a baking spree and someone’s got to eat all that crap.”

“What?” Daniel wondered why anyone would complain about someone else baking.

“Christmas.”

“What about it?” Daniel asked, still confused. “It’s not for three weeks.”

“For Marienne Christmas starts as soon as Thanksgiving is over, even the twelve days of Christmas aren’t enough for her, she needs the whole fucking month of December.”

Daniel stared at him.

Frank paused to blow into his hands before rubbing them together again. “She’s over the top. She bakes a million different things and insists on giving cookie platters to people—old lady Hanson down the street, the people at the design firm, the fucking police station for God’s sake. I come home and there are racks of cookies cooling everywhere. Shit, I don’t even like cookies.” He turned to look out the window as the frozen trees raced by outside the train.

“And the house.” Frank groaned. “Don’t even get me started on what she’s doing to the house. I thought it was bad in our apartment. This is the first Christmas she’s got a whole house to go nuts on, there’s Christmas shit everywhere.”

“Sounds kinda nice.” Daniel felt melancholy.

“Don’t get me wrong. It looks great and all. She does a really good job. And I’m sure some day our kids will get a real kick out of it. She just overdoes it sometimes. I don’t know.” Frank shook his head. “I don’t get her sometimes. I don’t see what the big deal is.” He shrugged again and closed his eyes.

Daniel thought about his own house. No visible signs of an impending holiday whatsoever. Justine’s feeling was why go through the work involved in decorating only to have to take it down in a month. Illogical. He knew she’d eventually hang a wreath on the front door, more for the neighbors than anyone else, and that would be the extent of it. They’d go to her parents’ house, as usual, and come home when it was over and life would be exactly the same.

Justine had already told him what she wanted for Christmas—a necklace she had not so subtly pointed out in a catalog. “And could I please have it before we go to my parents’ house, so I can wear it there and show it off?” she’d asked him. “Sure.” He’d answered. Justine was getting him new bookcases for his office as his gift. She’d made him pick them out himself because she had “no idea” what he would want.

Daniel looked over and noticed that Frank was fast asleep. He closed his own eyes, thoughts of Christmas still in his mind.

As a child Christmas had always been Daniel’s absolutely favorite holiday. Growing up he’d delighted in the entire experience. Coming home from school each day to the glorious smells of cookies and cakes baking in the oven, the way the house would make its transformation from ordinary house to winter wonderland of lights and candles and decorations.

He loved to lie in bed awake in the weeks before Christmas, up close to the window, so he could stare down the street, watching the lights twinkle on the neighbors lawns and houses for as far as he could see. He’d dream about what Santa might bring him. It was all so magical back then.

One year he’d quested a little too diligently for his gifts and he’d found them, hidden at the top of his mother’s bedroom closet. He was initially excited, then ashamed and disappointed. He’d ruined his own surprise. His mother never mentioned it, but he knew she had realized.

When Christmas came she watched as he opened all the gifts he had already known he was getting. He thanked her and she smiled. Then she got up and went into the dining room, returning with a box he was sure he hadn’t seen before.

He opened it slowly and was thrilled to find a new radio for his bedroom. His old one was broken and needed tape to hold it together, but it still worked. He hadn’t even thought to ask for such an expensive gift. “It’s always nice to get a little surprise,” she’d said to him. He had loved her so much at that moment, for not scolding him about snooping, for knowing that satisfying his curiosity had ruined the surprise for him, and for still going out of her way to make sure to surprise him anyway. He’d felt so happy, so accepted and so loved. He had never snooped for presents again.

A few short years later she took ill and passed away, leaving him alone. The first Christmas without her had been almost unbearable because the only gift he wanted was to be able to spend it with her.  Anne had tried her best to include Daniel in their Christmas and make him feel at home. She had bought him presents and he’d accompanied them to the big family dinner at her husband’s sister’s house. But it had only reminded him of what he no longer had. There was no longer a family of people who loved him. No one to share old memories with. He was so lonely he felt like he might disappear.

Once he’d gone to college he had chosen to spend Christmas at the dorm. Only a few students were around and he’d go out of his way to avoid even them, turning down offers from friends to accompany them home. He made a point of doing the least Christmasy thing he could think of—a corned beef sandwich at a small Kosher Deli in the Bowery followed by the Woody Allen film festival over at the Waverly. Anything to keep his mind off how sad he felt.

When he met Justine he got swept into her family’s grand traditions. Christmas Eves at the country club with a staggering display of gaudiness and wealth, followed by Christmas Day at her parents’ house with a staggering display of greed and self-indulgence.  Everyone was in a good mood, with the aid of champagne and lots of potent eggnog, and the days were so different from those he fondly remembered from his youth that they didn’t even tempt comparison. He was able to pretend it wasn’t Christmas at all, just some other holiday, a random reason for Justine’s family to be decadent. He’d accepted that and had accepted the “new normal” that had taken over his Christmas traditions. But the sadness remained.

Daniel felt the train slow as it pulled into the station. Frank was snoring.

“Hey, we’re here.” He nudged Frank.

“What?” Frank said, startling awake. “Oh, thanks.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Frank nodded, yawning. “See you then.”

***

Daniel and Justine arrived for dinner right on time at 7pm, but Marienne was not quite ready.  She apologized for the delay, explaining that the cookies had taken longer to bake than she’d anticipated.  She set out dips and chips and veggies for them to munch on while they watched the football game and she scurried about the kitchen.  Justine loved football, yet another thing she and Daniel did not have in common. She and Frank were busy hooting and hollering at the TV screen, razzing the players, talking about bad ref calls.  Daniel got up and strolled into the kitchen.

“Do you need some help?” he asked.

“No,” she said, smiling. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then started mashing potatoes in a big pot on the stove. “I’m waiting for the chicken to finish roasting and then we can eat. Sorry about dinner being so late.”

“No worries.” He didn’t mind the wait at all. It smelled so good in the kitchen. The scent of roasting chicken mingled with the aroma of all the cookies that were cooling on racks around the room. There was not a single flat surface that didn’t have a rack or two of cookies on it.

Marienne laughed as she saw him surveying the room. “I bake a lot at Christmas,” she said, shrugging.

“Yes, I can see that.” He chuckled.

“Here.” She grabbed a rubbermaid box of baking supplies off one of the kitchen bar stools.“Have a seat. Try whatever cookies you’d like. I’ve got plenty.”

He was continually amazed by how warm she was. How inviting. Though he’d only known her for five months he felt as though he’d known her forever. Without thinking he grabbed a cookie and popped it into his mouth. It melted on his tongue and he moaned. “Mmmm. That’s so good.”

She tossed him a quick grin as she basted the chicken. “Try another.”

He needed no further encouragement. By the time she’d finished scooping the fluffy mashed potatoes into a serving dish and started on the gravy he was on his sixth one.  The tray by the kitchen table held cookies that looked temptingly similar to ones his mother used to make. His very favorite cookies. He’d spent years being lured into buying bakery look-a-likes, but had always been bitterly disappointed as they’d tasted nothing like what he remembered. He’d given up trying.

He eyed the tray as he sampled the other varieties. Each tasted better than the one before. He hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment with unrealistic hopes, but curiosity got the best of him, and he grabbed a cookie off the final rack. He slowly bit into it, and there it was. The exact cookie he recalled from his childhood. The same texture, the same buttery rich flavor, the same chewy jam. “Oh my God,” he said, unintentionally out loud.

“What?” Marienne looked over as she stirred the gravy.

“These cookies,” he said, unable to keep the emotion from leaking into his voice. “They taste exactly like cookies my mother made when I was a child.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asked.

“Good thing. A very good thing. They were always my favorites. I haven’t had one in years.”

“Does she still make them?” she asked.

“No,” he said, looking out the window. “She passed away several years ago.”

“Oh Daniel, I’m so sorry.”

“No worries. It was a long time ago.” He gave her a brief smile, but he could see his sadness reflected in her eyes.

The oven beeped and Marienne checked the thermometer in the chicken.

 “Finally. We can eat,” she said, sounding relieved.

They sat around the table talking and laughing. The food was delicious, as always, and Frank seemed happy enough with the meal that he hadn’t made any snarky comments about the delay. All-in-all a successful night.

They helped clear the table, and put away the food. Marienne lingered in the kitchen a few moments longer than the rest.

“Here,” Marienne said, handing a shopping bag to Daniel as they said their goodbyes at the end of the evening. “Consider this your first plate of holiday cookies. I guarantee you’ll be getting several more.”

***

When they got home Daniel set the bag down on the kitchen counter.

Justine groaned.“You are eating all those cookies. In fact, take them to work, I don’t need temptation staring at me every day. I swear, I don’t know how she bakes so much. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He knew even Justine was impressed by both the volume and quality. Daniel didn’t mind the idea of eating all the cookies by himself. In fact he’d hoped it would work out that way.

After Justine headed up to bed he peered inside the paper bag and removed the platter of cookies. It looked perfect, wrapped up in clear red plastic wrap, curly gold ribbons holding it in place with a poofy cluster in the middle, the different cookies layered artistically around the plate. He smiled, then tried to fold up the shopping bag, surprised to notice there was still something inside.

He reached in and pulled out a Tupperware with a deep red lid. He looked at it, a mix of emotions in his mind, then lifted the lid. Nestled inside the container, carefully layered between pieces of waxed paper, were the jam cookies that had reminded him of his mother’s. From the looks of it, she’d given him the entire batch. He removed one, then carefully sealed the container. He ate the cookie slowly, savoring each bite, as he looked toward Marienne’s house through their darkened yards. A glow of light came from her kitchen window. And for the first time in as long as he could remember it felt a tiny bit like Christmas.