Happy Merry Everything (Charlie Barber)

I Don't Think That's Crazy At All.

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While you waited for Charlie to return, you found yourself standing in the kitchen staring blankly at the cabinets. Whenever you had a bad day, there was one thing that never failed to make you feel better and that thing was homemade chocolate chip cookies. The dough. The aroma that filled the apartment as they baked. That first bite of a warm cookie fresh out of the oven with a cold glass of milk. It was perfection. You felt a little hesitant at first about cooking when he wasn't there, but you quickly decided everything would be fine. After all, he had told you to make yourself at home.

You began rummaging through cabinets until you found what you needed. All purpose flour, baking soda, brown and granulated sugar, eggs, and butter. He didn't have any chocolate chips, but he did have a few chocolate bars in the cabinet, which you assumed were for baking. Chocolate chunks were better anyway. You were both pleased and impressed Charlie was so skilled in the kitchen, especially now. Finding flakey sea salt was as much of a joy as it was a surprise and you knew adding a little touch of it was going to make the cookies that much better.

You carefully mixed all of the ingredients together until you had the dough looking exactly how you wanted and placed the bowl into the fridge to chill. You also managed to find an ice cream scoop in one of the utensil drawers. Perfect, you thought. This will make sure they're all the same size so they'll bake evenly.

You preheated the oven and prepped your baking sheet with parchment. A few short minutes later, the oven beeped alerting you of your desired temp and you got to scooping the chilled dough onto pan.

You felt so nervous. You hadn't baked for anyone in a long time, not like this.

After you carefully placed the cookie sheet into the oven and set a timer to ensure they wouldn't over bake or burn, you began tidying up. You washed the bowl and utensils, wiped down the counter, and left everything to dry thinking about the moment he'd be back. The cookies were just becoming fragrant. You hoped upon hope he'd like them. You looked over at the coffee pot and realized you might as well prep it for the morning to save Charlie the trouble.

Just as you were replacing the water reservoir on the coffee maker, you heard the front door open.

"Charlie?" you called out to him.

"It's me. I got pizza!" You heard him close the door and toe off his shoes.

"What smells so good?"
"Come and see...I'm in the kitchen." You said, playing coy.

Charlie walked in and saw you leaning against the counter.

"Did you bake for me?"

You smiled and gave him a nod.

"They're almost ready."
"You baked for me."

He was in disbelief as he stood there and breathed in deep, closing his eyes.

"Chocolate chip?"

"Mmhmm. I hope it's okay...I used the chocolate bars you had in the cabinet because you were out of chocolate chips, but that really only makes them better. Once I take them out, I'm going to sprinkle them with a little sea salt."

"I can't believe you baked for me...and you did the dishes..." He looked past you to see the coffee maker. "Did you...?"

You nodded again. You could see it in his eyes. He wasn't used to this. He was used to taking care of others, but never having others take care of him.

The timer on the stove rang out. You moved to pressed the buttons to silence the alarm and kill the heat before you picked up an oven mitt.

"Can you grab the cooling rack out of the drawer there and sit it over here for me?"