Page 28 of Secondhand Smoke
Her mother placed the cross-stitch down on their glass-topped coffee table and rose from the burnt-orange floral couch. “Well, this is such great news. Which friend?”
What she really meant was:When did you make a new friend?Because Lord knew Nell barely left the house, and the friends she used to have were either dead or wished her dead.
“You don’t know them.” Nell remained vague. It was half the truth. Her parents didn’t know Barrett personally, but everyone in town knewofhim. And rest assured, they would lock her in her room if they knew just whose house she was going to.
Her parents shared a look, but then her mother grinned and rose. “Would you like to take some cookies with you to share? I just made a fresh batch of snickerdoodles.”
“That’s all right.”
“No, no. Take some. It’s polite to bring a gift when invited to someone’s home.” Without waiting for an answer, her mother floated out of the room to the adjacent kitchen, and Nell heard the sounds of pantries opening and closing and cookies being stacked into Tupperware. Her mother’s philosophy was that the way into someone’s heart was through their stomach.
Her father stared at her over the top of his paper, his brows raised. “Are you taking your bike?”
Nell fought to urge to take a nervous fingernail between her teeth. “Of course.”
“You might want to take the car. It will be hard to carry the cookies on the bike.”
Of course, it would be easier to take the car. It wasn’t a question of what was easier; it was a question of what wouldmake her want to throw up and panic, and what wouldn’t. In that sense, the bike always won. “I can balance them.”
He nodded slowly, biting his tongue, as Nell’s mother came scurrying back into the room with a dozen cookies in a container, eagerly handing it over. “I didn’t know how many people would be there, so I just put them all in.”
Nell wanted to tell her mother that she had no reason to take so many since it was only one person, but the hopeful twinkle of her mother’s eyes made her keep her mouth quiet and accept the cookies to appease her. “Thank you. I’m sure they’ll love them.” She lifted them up and backed up. “I’m going to go now.”
“Oh, be very careful, baby.” Her mother anxiously wrung her hands together, clearly battling the excitement of her daughter having a friend again with the overprotective instinct to wrap her up and never let her leave again. You’d think they were sending her off into the world for the first time. “Call if you need anything.”
“I will.”
* * *
Barrett was sitting on his wooden porch steps when she pulled up on her bike. He saw her coming from afar, and she watched him pull a cigarette away from his mouth and toss it to the ground, stamping it out with his shoe.
He waved as she approached, and she did her best to awkwardly wave back, but the pack of cookies tucked under her arm made it difficult to raise her arm enough.
She slowed to a stop and unmounted her bike, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves before walking it the rest of the way to him.
He eyed the cookies. “What’s that?”
“Snickerdoodles. I hope you like cookies. My mom told me to bring them for you.”
His face blanched in surprise. “You told your mom you were coming here?”
“I told her I was meeting a friend.” She averted her gaze from him to the ground, wondering if he would be offended. “I wasn’t sure they would let me leave if I said it was you.”
A soft, deep laugh made her look up.
Barrett was grinning lopsidedly down at her. “Smart move.”
There was contagious something about his laugh and genuine smile that made her nerves subside and her lips lift.
“Plus, I love snickerdoodles.” He nodded down at them.
She held the box out for him. “Here, they’re yours.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He accepted and gestured to the house. “Come inside.” He turned and walked up the steps he had just been sitting on.
Nell took a deep breath and followed him up.
Unlike the last time she was there, the inside was already tidied up. The natural sunlight streaming in through the window blinds made it appear bigger.
