Worship And Other Love Rituals

Chapter 6

Leo was already up and about, the little energizer bunny, singing some pop song way off-key. Despite barely getting any sleep after Sunday's chaotic pool party, his spirit couldn't be dampened.

I, on the other hand, was dragging. The last dregs of coffee did little to lift the fog in my brain as I went through the motions of making breakfast. I popped two brown bread slices into the toaster and cracked a couple eggs into the warming pan with a yawn. Couldn't this kid ever sleep in?

As I waited for the eggs to cook, I peered out the window, watching the neighbor's dog doing its business in their yard like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. At least someone was taking their time this morning. The monotony was broken by Leo's enthusiastic singing, his iPad in hand, growing louder as he bounced into the kitchen.

"Morning buddy!" I said, mustering as much cheer as my exhausted state could allow. "Ready for the big bus ride?"

Leo's eyes lit up like it was Christmas. "Yeah! I can't wait to see all my friends. And Ms. Jackson said we're doing a pop quiz today so I hope I studied enough."

A pop quiz on the first week? Harsh. At least it would keep this bundle of energy occupied during the ride. I plated his eggs and delivered them alongside his usual bowl of soggy cereal. As he scarfed it down like he hadn't eaten in days, crumbs spraying everywhere, I remembered the simpler meals of my childhood. Eggs were a luxury then - we usually got pancakes, if we were lucky. Not that I'd trade places with this kid for a second.

Finishing breakfast, I did a hasty clean-up and then shuffled Leo and his ratty backpack out the door. Right on cue, a bellowing horn signaled the approach of the giant yellow bus. I waved him off, calling "Have a good day!" as he bounded up the steps. From the window I could see him finding a seat near the front, already animatedly chatting some poor kid's ear off. At least he'd make friends easily.

With the house suddenly quiet, I had to stop and appreciate this new morning routine. No traffic battles, no last-minute running to get shoes tied. Just peace and time to myself. A luxury I didn't know existed. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee and settled on the porch with a contented sigh, soaking in the neighborhood sounds. Birds chirping, a lawnmower droning in the distance, the occasional car rolling by. It was like something from a Norman Rockwell painting.

My reverie was broken by the rumbling of my stomach. Right, cookies! I went inside, deciding to get to baking as a thank you to our new friends. Well, Penny was a friend. Maya was still a bit of an enigma after the pool party. Her rude daughter certainly left an impression. But I was trying this whole neighborly thing, so cookies it was.

As I mixed the dough, I eagerly inhaled the sweet aroma of melted chocolate. Nothing like the smell of baked goods to cheer up any mood! I wanted to deliver some to Penny right away while they were still warm, so into the oven they went. Leaning against the counter, I idly watched them bake, envisioning the smiles they might bring. Wouldn't it be nice to have a friend to share them with, someone to trade stories over coffee? I was jolted from my musings by the timer dinging.

Perfectly browned, I loaded a few onto a plate and headed next door. Penny answered with a smile that crinkled her eyes. "Well hello! Come on in, I just put the kettle on." Score! Good friend status achieved, at least temporarily. We chatted over tea and cookies for what felt like hours, sharing tales of our journeys to this neighborhood. Turns out we had a lot more in common than I'd guessed. By the time I headed home, I was feeling much better about living here.

That just left the cookies for Maya. I deliberated leaving them on her porch versus ringing the bell like with Penny. Something about that mansion gave me the heebie-jeebies. Like I'd be turned into a statue for daring to disturb the lady of the house. In the end, I opted for a quick note tucked in the Pyrex cookie container, hoping that conveyed my gratitude without too much human interaction required. With that delivered, my good deeds were complete and it was time to relax.