"You didn't have to do this." I said, lightly kicking the umbrella away as I moved closer.
He shrugged. "Made me feel like I was still with dad. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that he won't ever be around."
I stopped checking the cookies out and looked at him. He didn't let me comfort him however, as he cracked a smile. "I guess I at least learned to bake." He laughed and transferred the batch to a glass bowl.
"So how did you get so much flour all over you?"
"I just wanted to make chocolate chip cookies for the next batch." He said with small laughs punctuating his words.
"And you made a human cookie instead." I laughed as I said it, and it satisfied me that he found it funny too.
"You know, my dad and I...explored cooking all the time. I hate to say it, but I was into stuff like that. I still am, but not with the same vigour." He said, as he dusted himself off.
"So..how did you develop a liking for cooking?"
I sat on the kitchen island, watching him talk. Maybe he found it easier because I was a total stranger, and if he wanted, he could just never meet me again.
"Well, mum was never around. Dad was always looking over one theory or hypothesis. I am an only child, and...I hate eating out."
'You do? Then what did you eat then, Luke?' I thought to myself, but kept the small smile plastered on my face.
"I asked dad to teach me. He was single for a long time, so he knows how to cook incredibly well. It wasn't much better after he married mom and they gave birth to me. It was like she lost interest in both of us. So we just cooked for ourselves."
I nodded. "You hate eating out?"
"I got violently sick from it once," He said, as he made the dough. "I never tried again, and I don't think I ever will."
'Is that why you were always using one pill or the other? Why did you not just cook?'
I shook my head as I found myself drifting into my own thoughts again.
He expertly lined the baking pan and smiled at me. "I talk too much, right?"
"No. You didn't talk much back then so it's refreshing." I stopped, realizing what I said after I had said it, as he stopped kneading and looked up at me.
"Back then?" He asked, one eyebrow raised. It was weird how he managed to look both inquisitive and polite at the same time.
"Well, I meant...yesterday. You were so quiet yesterday." I said quickly.
He only smiled and nodded, then spooned the dough into the pan.
I watched him in silence, wary of saying one more thing that would seem too inconsistent.
"Do you want to take a bath? You're all white." I said, pointing at the door.
"I don't really have clothes to change into, so I will just risk being looked at as a madman on my way home."
I couldn't explain the small disappointment that followed the realization that he would be going home.
"I could quickly get one for you. I can't let you leave like this while I have two batches of freshly baked cookies all to myself."
He smiled. "I have imposed on you too much, already. It's really fine."
"I insist." I said, jumping down. Before he could say anything else, I was already out the door.
I really hoped I would have money in my credit card. I wasn't sure whether I had money, so I just risked it. I got him a set of sky blue and white hoodie and joggers, then gave my card.
"Oh, thank God." I said to myself as the cashier swiped the card and gave me a receipt.
I left the shop and went back home, only to hear sobbing sounds. I knew the accident, the wounds it had left on him and the loss of his father was all still fresh in his mind. I stayed out for a while and let him calm down before I walked in like I just arrived.
Instead of meeting him waiting however, he was on the kitchen floor, sound asleep. I guess that was his coping mechanism. Sleep so you could forget everything.
I decided not to wake him up as I tried to clean up the kitchen. He had already set a timer for the cookies, so I just removed them when they finished baking, and set them on the work table to cool.
"No..." He murmured in his sleep and I turned to him.
"Luke?"
"Don't do it." He murmured again, and I walked to him slowly.
"Don't do what?"
"Mum, please. Dont.."
I squatted to him and tapped him, but he didn't wake. I tapped him again, this time not stopping till he stirred. "Luke?"
He woke with a start, his breath uneven. "Oh." He said, but he looked like he was still processing his environment.
"Was it a nightmare?"
He stopped for a while to catch his breath before he nodded. "I am sorry, I fell asleep."
"No, its fine. It was just a nightmare, okay?"
He looked up at me. "I really wish it was, karla."
"What do you mean?" I asked, but then realized he was still on the floor. I straightened and gave him my hand. He gratefully took it and stood, and I directed him to the small dining table.
"How do you feel now?"
He shrugged "I am fine. It's a nightmare I have been seeing for years."
"Years?"
He nodded, touching his forehead. It was drenched in sweat, and he pulled some tissue and dabbed it.
"Yeah."
"But it's still just a nightmare. I wish you would stop worrying about it."
He nodded. "My mom had been cheating on my dad ever since I was ten. I still see flashes of the time I saw it, and told my dad. They had a huge fight."
What? Mrs. Catherina was cheating? She looked like the perfect wife and mother, and..she was cheating and had been for eight years?
"That must have been hard." I said.
"Not as hard as it was on my dad, especially after he found out it was with his best friend."