Sincerely, Emma

The week flew by, and Christmas was nearly upon us. Like a little child, Ian had insisted we bake some Christmas cookies and leave them and a glass of milk out, and with a sigh and a little giggle, I agreed.

“Here’s a list of what we need for the cookies,” I said, writing it down in one of the red pens. “You want to make them so bad, so you’re going to go get what we need.”

I flashed a grin at him, and he shrugged,

“Fine with me! But you’re helping me bake them, aren’t you?” I looked up from my list to find puppy dog eyes staring down at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I had to turn away quickly, granted, but how could you refuse the adorable face that this twenty-one year old man could pull off?

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, finishing the list and handing it to him, “now get going, will you?”

“Be back soon!” He took the list with a flourish, winked, and practically bounced from our kitchen in excitement. Sally Ann, the hyper but adorable pup she still was, followed him, yipping a little. I walked to the kitchen door and watched him kneel down to put his shoes on and pat her on the head. “Hey, Sal. I’ll be back in a few, so be good for your mama!”

With that, he was out the door and I felt the burn in my cheeks.

“Get a hold on yourself, Emma,” I patted my cheeks with both hands simultaneously, as if to knock some sense into me. “It’s not as if we’re even dating or anything. We’re roommates, and we happen to be of opposite genders and have a dog. It’s just because people enjoy baby-talking their pets that he called me her mama. Yeah.”

I wish I didn’t feel like this sometimes! I couldn’t help but like him, even a little, because he wasn’t nearly as much of an arrogant jerk as I’d deluded myself into believing. And to be honest with myself, I knew I liked him more than a little. If I didn’t, I might not have caved to his oh-so-innocent and adorable puppy dog eyes.

Might not have.

I groaned and Sally Ann heard, stopping her whining at the door to bounce energetically over to me. I changed my groan into a little giggle and knelt beside her, scratching behind her ears and saying nonsense words to her. Then she ran off and before I could stand up, she brought to me her ball. I smiled at her and kissed her on the nose.

“You want it?” I asked her, and her tail wagged excitedly. “Are you sure you want it?” This time she yipped, and I laughed, reeling my arm back slightly. “Go get it, girl!”

I tossed the ball lightly across the living room and into the hall, retreating momentarily into the kitchen to sneak a treat for her.

Ian came back while I was playing with Sally about twenty minutes later, and neither one of us noticed. He came in so quietly that even the hyper little canine didn’t perk up and rush to the door, and he stood watching us for a moment.

We learned he was there when Sally Ann excitedly leapt on me, causing me to tumble over backwards, and he laughed. That gained my attention, but the adorable little pup chose to lick my nose and Ian laughed some more.

“Ah! Welcome back!” I said from my spot on the floor, fending off the little beast’s tongue by picking her up and tickling her belly. I sat up when she noticed Ian and rushed over to him. Noticing the two bags in his hands and his inability to pet the overly excited, tail wagging puppy, I took pity on him and got up. “Let me see those. You say hi to Sally,” I told him, taking the bags from him and heading to the kitchen.

I heard him greet the pup, as I’d said, and smiled to myself as I sat the bags on the kitchen counter. I pulled out the extra flower, sugar, and eggs I’d asked him to get, which were surprisingly all packed in the same bag (eggs on top) and sat them on the counter. Then I pulled the other bag over to find the smaller things, and something extra he’d grabbed.

There were the baking ingredients I’d asked for, like baking powder and baking soda, since I hadn’t chosen a recipe yet and I didn’t know which one we’d need, and a nice sized bottle of vanilla instead of one of those little bitty things that don’t last long. There was the butter, a tub of margarine and a box of the sticks, since we’d been completely out of butter anyway.

“Be right back in!” Ian’s voice suddenly called, “I’m running back to the car to get the milk!”

“Okay!” I called back, before returning to the bags in front of me. Now for the things he must have just picked up randomly, because they weren’t the baking ingredients I’d asked for.

First thing I noticed was the four cookie cutters, and I smiled softly to myself. There was the traditional Christmas tree, then ones shaped like an ornament, a wreath, and a present. After I pulled that set out, I noticed another beneath it consisting of holly, a reindeer, Santa Claus, and a stocking. It seemed like Ian really was in a childlike mindset in his Christmas fervor, and it was kind of (really) adorable.

Then were the sprinkles. The sugar sprinkles that come in colors, and he just so happened to get a red and green combination, as well as a separate red and green. He also had picked up specialized Christmas sprinkles, with little Christmas tree shapes, and bows and holly. It was cute that he’d picked them up.

The door opened and closed again, and I heard him taking off his shoes before coming across the living room into the kitchen.

“Let’s get started!” he said excitedly as soon as he was in the room. I hid my smile from him and started pulling out the utensils we’d need.

“Find a recipe in the cookbook on the table,” I said, trying to reach for the glass mixing bowl that was, unfortunately, out of reach. “While I get everything out.”

A presence behind me made me slow my attempts to get to the bowl, just a little.

“Sure you will,” Ian laughed, reaching over me and pulling the stack of three different sized bowls down and sitting them on the counter. “That what you were after?”

“Yeah,” I said, turning my attention to them to hide the flush that once more spread across my cheeks. “Thanks!”

“No problem,” he said, and when I glanced over my shoulder, he’d retreated to the table to do as I’d told him to.

*

About thirty, thirty-five minutes later, and I couldn’t believe what had happened. We had all the ingredients mixed together according to the recipe after the first fifteen, and then Ian had really done another childish thing as we rolled the dough out.

He started a flour fight.

A flour fight, of all the things for a twenty-one year old man to do!

But it did occupy us for the last fifteen minutes, and it was safe to say that our kitchen now looked like an ash covered war zone, only more white than grayish-white. As we sat on the floor, laughing, amidst our mess, I looked at Ian. His always slightly messy blonde hair was standing up everywhere and was now dusted with a layer of white at most parts. His face was completely covered, except for the left side a little around the eye because he’d defended himself by throwing a hand in the way. It was comical. The Christmas-y t-shirt he wore was similar, as well as his blue jeans. His arms were kind of spotty from blocking shots to his face.

I bet I didn’t look much better. It’s probably why we were laughing so hard.

“Let’s…let’s finish cutting the cookies,” I managed, calming myself a little bit, “then clean up this mess…”

“Y-yeah,” Ian coughed, still grinning like a kindergartener.

So we did just that, Ian quite happily experimenting with the various shapes and designs of his cookie cutters then with the slight variety in his sprinkles. And I must admit, it was a lot of fun to be doing this with him on Christmas Eve. It made me feel warm inside, like nothing I’d ever experienced before or was embarrassed to admit I’d felt. But the truth was I hadn’t felt like this. I’d never actually had the time to develop a crush on anyone because of their personality before, so it was a new experience and I absolutely reveled in the emotions it brought.

Being with Ian, even as just his roommate, was so much fun.