Penny had been baking all afternoon.
By the time she found Victor, the Church Nook smelled like warm sugar, butter, and something with cinnamon in it.
Victor was waiting outside.
He usually waited outside.
There were certain problems that came with being eight feet tall in a garden designed for considerably smaller creatures, and fitting through Penny’s doorway was one of them.
Penny stepped outside carrying a small plate.
Victor brightened immediately.
“Meow!”
“I thought you might like one.”
She held up a cookie.
It was round.
Golden.
Still warm.
And, in Victor’s opinion, apparently very important.
He lowered his head until his enormous eyes were level with the plate.
Penny held it out.
Victor looked at the cookie.
Then at Penny.
Then back at the cookie.
“Meow?”
“It’s for you.”
Victor carefully took it.
Very carefully.
A cookie that fit comfortably in both of Penny’s paws looked almost ridiculous beside Victor’s beak.
He held it as though Penny had handed him something priceless and extremely fragile.
Penny smiled.
“You can eat it.”
Victor nodded.
“Meow.”
He did not eat it.
Penny saw him again later that evening.
Victor was resting near the edge of the Garden.
The cookie was still there.
Balanced carefully beside him.
Penny stopped.
“Didn’t you like it?”
Victor’s eyes widened.
“Meow!”
He immediately picked up the cookie.
He showed it to her.
Completely intact.
“I know. That’s the cookie.”
Victor nodded.
“Meow.”
Penny waited.
Victor held the cookie a little closer.
Then tucked it carefully against his feathers.
Penny tilted her head.
“You’re saving it?”
Victor nodded again.
That seemed reasonable enough.
Everyone saved treats sometimes.
“Okay.”
Penny smiled and went home.
The next morning, the cookie was still there.
Victor had apparently found a small piece of cloth and wrapped it around the cookie during the night.
Penny stared at it.
Then at Victor.
“Victor.”
“Meow?”
“You know cookies don’t get better with age, right?”
Victor looked down at the little bundle.
Then back at Penny.
“…Meow.”
Penny sat beside him.
Or, more accurately, Penny sat beside one of Victor’s feet.
“Why aren’t you eating it?”
Victor looked at the cookie again.
His expression softened.
Then he pointed gently toward Penny with the tip of his beak.
Penny blinked.
“You’re not eating it because I made it?”
Victor nodded.
Penny looked at him for a moment.
Victor looked slightly embarrassed.
Very slowly, Penny began to understand.
“If you eat it…”
Victor looked down.
“…then you won’t have it anymore.”
Victor nodded.
“Meow.”
Penny’s face softened.
“Oh.”
Victor carefully unwrapped the cookie.
It was still whole.
A little less warm.
Probably a little less good.
But Victor looked at it like it was the nicest thing anyone had ever given him.
Penny reached out and rested one tiny paw against his leg.
“Victor, I can make more cookies.”
Victor looked at her.
“Meow?”
“As many as you want.”
Victor stared.
Penny smiled.
“I promise.”
Victor looked down at the cookie.
Then at Penny.
Then at the cookie again.
He hesitated.
Finally, with extraordinary care, Victor placed the entire thing into his beak.
There was one small crunch.
The cookie disappeared.
Victor froze.
Penny waited.
Victor chewed.
His eyes widened.
“MEOW.”
Penny laughed.
“Good?”
Victor nodded enthusiastically.
“Meow!”
He lowered himself as far as he could and gently bumped his head against Penny.
Penny hugged the side of his beak.
“There’ll be another one tomorrow.”
Victor became very still.
He pulled back.
Looked toward the Church Nook.
Then looked at Penny.
“Meow?”
Penny narrowed her eyes.
“Tomorrow.”
Victor looked at the Church Nook again.
“Meow.”
“Tomorrow.”
Victor considered this.
Then he lay down beside Penny.
For several quiet minutes, neither of them moved.
Victor no longer had the cookie.
But he still had Penny.
Apparently, that was enough.
At least until tomorrow.
Explore the Garden
Some things are easier to let go of when someone promises there will be more.
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