by Mac Flynn
Shannon rolled her eyes. "Geez, I wonder why that it. Could be because no sane person eats Peanut Butter Macaroon cookies," she retorted.
Her brother raised a brow at her comment. "Maybe crazy people are more interesting than sane people," he pointed out. Then he leaned forward and glared at her. "Besides, what's wrong with them?"
"Well, only that they're nasty and disgusting, but I'll tell you what. I'll be the nice sister and tell you where you can go to buy some more of that stuff."
"Where? These things are poisoned, are they?" was the suspicious reply.
"There is this one store my friend Vanessa swears by. She says the place is delicious but I had one of their fortune cookies and it was awful." Shannon stuck out her tongue to finish what she thought of the place. "Since it's got that nasty stuff, I don't see why it wouldn't have your nasty stuff. It'd fit right in with everything else."
"And where is this place? Online somewhere?"
Shannon shook her head. "Nope, it's only got a physical location, and just down this street, too. It's stuck between two bakeries and is one of those old fashioned buildings. You know, fancy front door with steps leading up to it and everything."
"And the store hours?" While Michael was acting indifferent, he was actually making a mental note of the information she was giving him.
"Erratic, so no clue. And speaking of food." Shannon had been watching for their waiter, and she eagerly leaned back when she spotted him with their plates. "Now less talk, more eating."
Michael obeyed his sibling's order, mostly because he was hungry, too, but also since he had all the information he needed to find the place. As for the hours, that would be up to lady luck to guide him to his fateful new snack shop. If the flavor turned out well, the proprietor would have a faithful new customer. If not, then he would have to take up online ordering and take an even bigger risk with the taste, what with shipping.
After work that very day Michael set off for this supposed sweet shop. He was glad to find it soon enough after a quick perusal, and wondered at how he'd missed such a unique shop. The place was well-lit and very homey, everything he'd ever want from a place he would shop. There was only one customer inside, a pretty young woman, and he could see an elderly gentleman behind the counter. Michael stepped inside and let out a whistle. The place was enormous, what with the shelves upon shelves of goodies to his right and in front of him. The wall behind the old man, probably the proprietor Mr. Eres, was pretty impressive with its shelves full of pastries and bread.
The pair at the counter, woman and elderly man turned at the sound. The man nodded at the new customer and turned back to the old one. "I don't see a problem with having your order ready at that time. How many would you like made?"
"Oh, about a dozen cookies should last me a while. I still have some leftover from the other store, anyway," the woman reassured him.
"Then we'll see each other again tomorrow evening, Miss Houston," the man returned.
The woman smiled and turned away toward the door. She passed by Michael and he couldn't help noticing she glanced at him with a curious stare. She definitely wasn't bad looking, and he had half a mind to ask her for some coffee. Unfortunately her feet were faster than his brain, so she was out the door and down the street by the time his courage came to him. His shoulders slumped and a voice startled him from his thoughts.
"Good evening," the man pleasantly greeted.
"Oh, um, good evening," Michael replied. He noticed the cookies were at the front and went straight for them. The man watched with a smile as Michael perused the numerous kinds, but wasn't pleased when the young man was downfallen.
The old man leaned over the counter. "Didn't find what you're looking for?" he asked the young man.
"I was hoping you would carry some peanut butter macaroons, but I don't see any here," Michael told him.
Mr. Eres raised an eyebrow and had a twinkle in his eyes. "Is that so? For a lady friend of yours?"
Now it was Michael's turn to raise a brow. "No, for myself. I don't have a lady friend."
The old man looked his new customer up and down, and then shook his head. "What a pity. You're a fine looking young man."
Michael thought these forward questions and compliments were a little odd. "Yes, well, do you carry any of those types of macaroon cookies?" Michael asked him.
"Well, I happen to have sold all those earlier in the day, but I'll tell you what." The old man leaned over the counter and gave him a wink. "I'll bake a few for you during the afternoon and you can pick up the box tomorrow evening."
"Really?" Michael asked him. He was thrilled to have such an offer of guaranteed cookies.
"Certainly, and as an offering of peace for not having any in stock, I'll give you the cookies half off." Eres' smile broadened when Michael's own eyes widened.
The young man hadn't expected such upfront kindness, especially since he had just walked in off the street. "I would very much appreciate that. I'll be by about this time tomorrow. Oh, could you make about a dozen for me?"
"That's fair enough," Eres agreed.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Mr.-"
The old man chuckled and gave a quick bow of his head. "Eres. This is my shop."
Michael smiled at the old-fashioned bow. "You just got yourself a permanent customer, Mr. Eres, provided the food is good."
There was that strange glint in the man's eyes again. "I'm sure you won't be disappointed."
Michael went away from the shop and the next day rang bright and early. For one it was Saturday, and the other was the order of cookies he expected from Eres. He got over to his computer to check his email and the dating sights he frequented. His chipper mood was a little less bright when he saw there were no matches for him that day, or at least none he was willing to look into. He sighed and leaned back in his computer chair. It seemed his sweet habit was taken care of, but his love life needed a bigger change.
"I'd hate to break it to myself, but maybe Shannon's right," he muttered to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe I need to rethink me."
He lifted his arms and flexed them. Not much muscle showed up, and he dropped his arms to his side. Then he lifted his shirt and patted the bit of pudgy stomach he'd accumulated over the last year. Maybe he'd deal with that later, after he picked up his box of cookies.
Michael's day was painfully long, and as the hours lengthened he wished he would have changed the pickup time to the morning rather than the evening. Then again, the old man didn't look like he had a lot of help and probably used a lull in the afternoon crowd to make that batch of cookies. Eventually, though, he was grateful to see the time nearing five and set out for the store. The night was clear and the moon overhead was beautiful, which meant he was in a particularly good mood when he saw the lights of the tiny shop shining on the sidewalk.
He stepped inside and glanced around. Michael was pleasantly surprised to see the woman from that morning in the aisles to his right browsing the sweets, but he was there on a mission. Thus he was glad when Mr. Eres came out from the back room, so Michael strode up to the counter. "Are they ready?" he asked the proprietor.
Eres forlornly shook his head. "I'm afraid there's been a slight delay. You see, I couldn't get them started until just a few minutes ago, but if you would like to wait they'll be ready in the next half hour or so."
"Oh well, I guess I can wait." Michael's mood was more downcast, but he was still getting the cookies for half off. Perhaps their flavor would make up for the delay. "Is there some place I can sit down besides the counter?"
Eres smiled and nodded at the halls of shelving behind Michael. "Oh yes. There's a small table with two chairs in the back. You may have to share with the young lady, but I'm sure you can find something to talk about."
"Oh, well, we'll see." Michael didn't have the same faith as Eres in his speaking to a woman. Meeting one randomly had turned out worse than setting up a blind date, mostly because he could never think of a topic they b
oth liked.
Instead Michael wandered up and down the aisles. He passed by the aforementioned small table and noticed the stranger seated at one of the chairs. His plan was to pass by and catch another glance of her over his shoulder, but he noticed the contents of a book she had open on the table. It was an instruction manual for basic coding of a website, something he was fond of toying with when he was feeling bored.
Michael perused her too long, however, for she felt his eyes on her and glanced up from her book. He saved himself with a quick nod and an even quicker step into the nearest aisle. However, this cat-and-mouse game couldn't last forever. His feet grew sore from the hard floor and that seat opposite a pretty lady was too tempting. After a few more minutes of fighting his nervousness and his angry feet, Michael lost and sat down in the seat.
The woman glanced up at him and smiled. "I was wondering when you'd figure out these floors are hard," she teased him.
"It's not that hard," he countered.
She thought for a moment, then raised a leg and showed off her high-heels. "I only lasted five minutes before these things blew out on me, so don't be angry. You still hold the record for longest wandering."
Michael managed a smile at his small triumph. "Do I get a trophy?" he asked her.
She only put her foot down and shook her head. "Nope, but you get to know my name. It's-"
"Miss Houston," he interrupted her. The young woman stuck out her tongue. Michael was surprised by her openness and playfulness toward him, a complete stranger.
"You think this is where I'm supposed to be awed and impressed by your telepathic abilities, but you're wrong. I know your secret," she replied. She leaned over her book and he leaned back. The look in her eyes was dazzling. "You overheard Mr. Eres saying that this morning, but what you don't know is my first name."
"Um, is it Miss?" he joked.
Miss Houston let out a barking laugh and leaned away from him. "Real cute," she complimented. "You have pickup lines as good as that one?"
Michael straightened himself up and coughed. "Well, not really. I usually just go through the internet dating sites, and without any face-to-face talking you can be as witty as your Google skills allow you to be."
Now she rolled her eyes. "Well, at least you're honest."
"And handsome."
"I take back the honesty part," she replied with a laugh. "Your friends must call you Narcissus behind your back."
"Speaking of names, do I need to keep calling you Miss Houston or do you have a first name?" Michael asked her.
"If you think you need to know-"
"I wouldn't have asked otherwise, especially since you know my name," he interrupted her.
"It's Elizabeth, but most of my friends just call me Beth," she told him.
"So what do you want me to call you?" Michael wondered.
She leaned forward and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "You can call me your royal highness."
"Now who's being honest?" he teased.
Their playful bantering consumed the better part of an hour, and next they looked at their watches it was well past dinner time. Michael glanced down the rows of shelves to the front. He didn't see any movement, so he jerked his head toward the counter. "You think we should go make sure he's alive? He looked pretty old."
"Yeah, he did. I was pretty surprised to hear he ran this entire shop," she agreed.
Michael raised an eyebrow. "So you're not a regular here?" he asked her as they stood from their chairs.
Beth shook her head. "Nope. The store where I usually got my macaroons stopped ordering them, and I heard this place had them. When you saw me yesterday I was just telling Mr. Eres I couldn't pick up my cookies until this time."
Michael froze and tilted his head to one side. "Macaroons? Peanut butter macaroons?"
She stopped and turned back. "Yes, why? I mean, I know they're a little funny but they're not that funny."
"Because that old man said he wouldn't have a batch ready until this time," Michael told her.
Beth frowned and shrugged. "So what? Is that supposed to mean something?"
"I'm not sure, but I'm going to go ask that wily old man about it." Michael marched up to the front of the store with Beth close at his heels. They didn't see the man, but they did find two boxes beside the cash register. One had a card with Michael's name on it, and another was addressed to Beth. Michael picked up the card and flipped it over. He read aloud a small message on the back.
"I offer these two boxes as an apology for the lateness. Be mindful of the rain. Rain?" Michael repeated. He glanced out the windows and could see a light mist falling from the sky. His face likewise fell when he remembered he'd walked to the store. "What the hell is this? Some sort of a joke?"
"It sounds very kind of him, but I wish we knew if he was all right," Beth replied. She glanced around the corner to the backroom entrance. The place was eerily quiet.
"Well, how about we check in here tomorrow?" Michael suggested.
Beth shook her head. "What if he needs us right now?' she insisted. She rounded the counter and peeked her head into the hallway.
"You know, that sign says employees only," Michael pointed out.
She turned around and shot him a glare. "I know what it says, and I also know I want to check on him." She cautiously stepped into the hallway, and the moment her foot touched the linoleum floor Eres peeked his head around the corner. Beth jerked back and grabbed at her chest over her heart.
"Can I help you with something?" Eres kindly but firmly asked her.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just worried about you," Beth explained.
He smiled and tottered a few yards down the hall toward her. "Nothing to worry about, Miss Houston. I was just preparing to close shop."
"Oh, well, in that case we'll be going." Beth turned and sheepishly grabbed her box.
Michael had a triumphant grin on his face that annoyed her. His smile didn't last long when she slid past him and out the door. He remembered he didn't have a dry way home, so he grabbed his own box and whipped out the front entrance. Neither noticed Eres standing in the doorway of the hall watching them exit. He had a mischievous smile on his face as he looked out the windows at the pouring rain. A fine night for some wet frolicking.
Michael caught up to Beth outside beneath the eave. She looked upward and scowled at the rain. "Some night, hunh? Makes you want to help a poor fellow our by driving him home," he hinted at.
Her reply was made in a dry, annoyed tone. "If I would have brought my car I'd be glad to do it."
"So you didn't drive here?" he asked her.
She shook her head and looked to him. "And I'm guessing you didn't bring yours, either, did you?" Now he shook his head, and her shoulders slumped. "Great, just great. A few miles of pouring rain."
Michael blinked. "A few miles?" he repeated.
"Yeah, I walked here from work, and was going to walk home to get some exercise. I didn't think I'd be here this late, and this rain is just making things worse."
He looked down at her petite form and lack of adequate clothing. She had only a thin coat and a backpack. No umbrella or thick coat to protect her. "Well, how about you come to my place? I can drive you home from there."
She cast a suspicious glance at him. "And how do I know you won't do something bad to me?" she countered.
Michael shrugged in reply, but there was a playful grin dancing across his lips. "Maybe I might do something good to you."
Beth rolled her eyes and sighed. She really didn't have a better option, not with the rain pouring down like it was. "Fine, I'll go with you, but no funny business."
"Not even a joke or two?" he teased.
She growled and shoved him to the right. "Just get going so we'll get there faster."
"We'd get there faster if you'd shove me in the other direction," he told her, and pointed to the left. "I live that way."
"Oh, well, get going then."
"Gimme a second to shove my box into your bag. I d
on't want my cookies getting wet," he told her. The said bag was stuck to her back. He quickly stepped behind her and proceeded to open the zipper.
Beth squirmed and shook her back to try to get his hands off her bag. "Hey, did I give you permission to do that?" she asked him.
"Nope, but I'm doing it anyway. Now hold still and hand me your box." She frowned but did as he said.
With their cookies safely tucked into the bag, the pair set off on their journey to Michael's apartment. The weather was oppressively wet, and long before they arrived at the apartment building they were soaked to the bone. Beth was even quivering from the damp cold, so Michael was glad when they reached his block and his building. He hurried her inside the place, but in the entrance hall she resisted his gentle directions.
"I just need you to drive me home now," she reminded him. "Is your car parked nearby?"
"There's a parking garage on the other side of the block, but I think you need to dry off a little. If you stay in those wet clothes very long you're going to catch a cold," Michael pointed out. He guided her toward the elevator and had her shoved inside before she could protest.
Beth shrugged off his hands from her shoulders and scowled at him as he pressed the button for his floor. "I'm just fine, and I certainly don't need anyone taking care of me like I'm a baby."
"Then you need to stop whining like one and see how sick you're going to make yourself," Michale countered. She folded her arms across her chest and turned her face away with a pout on her lips. "At least towel yourself off and stay for a cup of coffee." Beth stuck out her tongue at the suggestion. "Not a coffee person? How about some cocoa?"
Beth thought about it for a moment, and grudgingly nodded her head. "Fine, I'll take some cocoa, but don't expect me to like it."
He leaned in with a smirk on his face. "Even if I put in some extra chocolate?" he teased.
"Especially if you put in some extra chocolate. I'll think you're trying to drug me."
"While chocolate is an aphrodisiac, I don't think I have quite enough chocolate to make you fall in love with me," Michael replied with a laugh. The elevator stopped and he led the way down the hall to his apartment. He opened the door and invited her for a look. "Welcome to my abode. Feel free to toss your coat anywhere."