Padme watched the workmen from the moving van out of her bedroom window as she sat at her desk. The new neighbours had moved in that morning, and made so much noise that Padme had been forced to wake up early, even though it was the weekend. From her upstairs perch, she had gathered that her neighbours consisted of a single mother and her young son, if Padme guessed correctly, and she was fairly good at guessing. Though she had no desire to meet her neighbours, her mother had insisted on baking some cookies for the young family, and it was Padme's job to deliver them and welcome them to the neighbourhood, something she was none too thrilled about, because she didn't see how homemade cookies would be beneficial to any new family, but Padme wasn't one to argue with her mother.
The aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted enticingly upstairs to her bedroom, and Padme followed the scent, descending the stairs in rather a hurry, for who could resist freshly baked cookies, the chocolate chip kind with a hint of peanut butter. At that moment, when she entered the kitchen, she felt jealous of her new neighbours, for her mother's cookie recipe was a family secret and Padme's personal favourite. She was in her right mind to help herself to a few on the way, but one sharp look from her mother made her rethink her actions. Perhaps her neighbours would let her sample a few when she distributed them.
Basket of cookies in hand, she skipped out the door and down the path, careful to avoid the workers that were moving sofas and bookshelves and bed frames. The garden had been well kept by the previous owners; the lawn green and lush, various shrubs and flower bushes lining the sides of the house. The woman was standing in the doorway, chatting to a workman about a television, when Padme approached her. She stopped her conversation mid-way and gazed down at Padme, soft green eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled.
"Hello, child," she said sweetly. "What is it I can help you with."
Having been brought up with impeccable manners, Padme lowered her head in respect and smiled at the woman. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," she apologised, "but I live next door and my mother baked you some cookies. Welcome to the neighbourhood."
The woman's face broke out into a charming smile and she took the basket from Padme's outstretched hands. "Why, thank you dear, that is most thoughtful of you. Please give your mother my thanks." As she lifted the towel that covered them, she hummed, "these smell delicious. You really shouldn't have."
Padme shook her head politely. "It was no trouble, ma'am," she insisted. Please let me have one. Her brown eyes followed the basket hungrily as the woman re-covered them with the towel.
"What is your name, dear?"
"Padme."
"It's a pleasure to meet you Padme. I'm Shmi Skywalker. Just a moment, I'll get my son. He'd love to meet you."
Hurrying inside, Padme heard Shmi call out "Ani!" as she waited on the doorstep. Moments later, a young boy appeared beside Shmi as they walking down the hallway towards her. He couldn't have been older than ten, with scruffy blond hair and sharp blue eyes. There was dirt and grease on his face and hands and underneath his fingernails, as though he had been fixing something.
"Padme, this is my son, Anakin. Ani, this is our neighbour Padme."
The boy eyed her with wide eyes, almost wonder, and Padme couldn't help but smile at him. "Nice to meet you, Anakin," she said. He was several inches shorter than her, but there was an air of confidence in the boy that far exeeded her own.
"Are you an angel?" he asked, bluntly.
Stunned by his sudden question, Padme took a step back and raised her eyebrows, flicking her eyes between Shmi and Anakin. "Sorry?"
