Cookies
Holtz is tapping out the rhythm of ‘Jingle Bells’ on the edge of her workbench when Erin comes and leans up against it. She’s holding two mugs and sets one down, then takes a long sip from her own.
Holtz peers into the mug. “Hot chocolate? You’re the best.”
“Two packets. Don’t know how you can drink it like that. Oh, and there are chocolate chips melting in the bottom, just the way you like it.”
“Niiiice.” Holtz grabs the spoon sticking out of the mug and scoops out some melty goodness.
“Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”
“Whaaiooouhouu?” Holtz says around the spoon sticking straight out of her mouth.
“Sorry?”
Holtz pulls the spoon out and deposits it back into the mug. “What did I do to deserve you?” she repeats.
Erin hums and takes another sip from her own mug. “So, I’ve come up with the next holiday activity for us to do.”
“Oh yeah?”
“My apartment. Tonight. Be there or be…here, I guess.” Erin frowns. “I promise, what I have planned is going to be more exciting than work, so you should leave here at a reasonable time.”
Holtz lifts an eyebrow. “Dr. Gilbert, are you implying what I think you’re implying?”
Erin squints. “What do you think I’m implying?”
“Sex,” Holtz clarifies. “Holiday sex.”
“What’s the difference between h—never mind, I don’t want to know right now. No, that’s not what I was implying. I have an actual festive activity planned. It’s a surprise, though.”
“I am 100% intrigued. Can’t wait to see what you’ve got cookin’ up.” Holtz grins.
“I can’t wait to show you.” Erin leans down and kisses the top of Holtz’s head. “I’m gonna head back downstairs and let you get back to work. Make me something cool.”
“On it!” Holtz chirps. Erin takes off, squeezing her shoulder on the way by. Holtz chugs down half her hot chocolate, cracks her knuckles, and grabs a blowtorch.
She keeps an eye on the clock for the rest of the day and makes a point of finishing up just before 5:00. She flies down the firepole to catch Erin before she leaves.
“Wow, you must be really interested to see what I’ve got planned,” Erin says. “You never finish this early.”
“That’s what she said.” Holtz smirks and pulls her coat on.
Erin sighs.
Holtz stands on her tiptoes to kiss Erin’s cheek. “But yes. I’m very excited.”
“Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”
Across the room, Patty claps her hands together. “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID! Hah! Did I do it right, Holtzy?”
Abby starts laughing and so does Holtz. She mimes high-fiving Patty across the room. “Good one!”
Erin sighs louder and walks away. She pauses with her hand on the door and cocks her head at Holtz. “Are you coming?”
“THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID,” the three of them shout simultaneously.
Erin stares at them for a second, then pulls open the door and leaves. Holtz skips after her with glee. “Bye guys! See ya tomorrow.”
Outside, she has to jog a bit to catch up to Erin. She falls into step beside her and slides her bare hand into Erin’s gloved one. Holtz hasn’t needed to wear gloves for years—her hands have been through so much that they can withstand anything.
“So, you gonna tell me what we’re doing?” Holtz says, swinging their clasped hands.
“I said, it’s a surprise! You’ll see when we get to my place.” Erin pauses. “Well, sort of. I didn’t anticipate you leaving at the same time as me, so I’m going to need you to distract yourself while I set up everything.”
That is how Holtz ends up sprawled on Erin’s couch flicking past Christmas movies on TV while Erin bustles around over by the kitchen.
“Ooh! Olive the Other Reindeer!” Holtz stops changing channels and sets down the remote. “I love this one! You seen it?”
“What’s it about?”
“A little dog named Olive who travels to the North Pole to help pull Santa’s sleigh. Lots of musical numbers. A nasty postman. A penguin named Martini who sells counterfeit watches.”
“Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“It’s a good one. Hey, it’s still in the opening credits! I’m going to record it so we can watch it later.” Holtz hits record and switches the channel so she won’t see any more of it.
“I’m done setting up now,” Erin announces.
Holtz shuts off the TV and leaps up. She strides over to Erin and takes in the scene in the kitchen. There’s a huge ball of beige cookie dough wrapped in Saran Wrap, an open Tupperware container of metal cookie cutters, a rolling pin, and Erin clenching her fingers nervously.
“I thought,” she says, “maybe we could make and decorate sugar cookies? If you want? I already made the dough because it needed to chill, and that’s the boring part anyway. Um, this is…it’s something I do every year, kind of a tradition, and I thought maybe we could do it together. But now that I’m standing here, I’m realizing that this isn’t as exciting as I made it out to be, and skating was so much cooler, and I—”
“Erin,” Holtz interjects, “I’d love to make sugar cookies. I can’t super guarantee that I won’t eat most of the dough and/or cookies before we decorate them, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. Especially if it’s a tradition. I’m honoured that you want to include me in your holiday traditions.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah. I don’t really have any traditions of my own, so I think that’s really cool.”
“You don’t have any traditions? At all?”
Holtz shrugs. “Not really. Abby and I used to order Chinese on Christmas Eve, but…well, you know. That’s the same as most nights, so it’s not very special.”
Erin frowns as she takes in that information. “Well, every family needs holiday traditions, so why don’t we work on making some? Together?”
Holtz can’t help a grin from spreading across her face. “I like the sound of that.”
They set to work rolling out the cookie dough. Erin digs through the tub of cookie cutters and takes out a snowflake. She starts stamping them in a neat, straight line up the side.
Holtz, on the other hand, grabs the first one her hands touch and shoves it down into the dough. Then she swaps it out for another one. Then another one.
“Holtz, that’s an Easter cookie cutter. Are you even looking at them before you use them?”
“Nope,” Holtz replies cheerfully. “It’s more fun this way. Besides, this could be a…slightly oblong ornament. You don’t know its life.”
“It’s an egg.”
“You’re an egg.”
“Hey, that’s a Halloween one. Put that back.”
Holtz grins and holds up the one she’s just picked up. “Come on, you don’t want to make little festive ghosties?”
“Those aren’t Christmas appropriate!”
“Erin. We’re Ghostbusters. Ghosts are always appropriate.” To prove her point, she stamps down the ghost twice.
Erin bites her lip. “Okay.” She reaches over and steals the ghost, then, after a pause, cuts one out a few inches from her nice line.
“Hey, now you’re really getting into the Christmas spirit.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Come on, let’s hurry this up so we can get the first batch in the oven.”
They finish cutting out as many as they can from the dough and get some into the preheated oven. They prepare another tray and then re-roll out the dough to cut more.
Holtz goes to get a butter knife. Erin stares at her. “What are you up to?”
“I have some very important shapes to make, and you don’t have cookie cutters for them. If you happen to have a blow torch and a pair of pliers around and wouldn’t mind parting with one of the ones you have, I could re-fashion it into what I’m thinking of—”
“No.”
“—but using a knife is probably easier.”
“If you cut out any genitalia, we’re breaking up.”
Holtz curls her arm protectively around the dough so Erin can’t see what she’s cutting. She only reveals them when she transfers them onto the tray. She’s cut out an E, an H, and a heart.
She watches as Erin’s face turns a little pink. “Aw, Holtz.” A pause. “You know I have a heart-shaped cookie cutter, right?”
They use up the remaining dough. While the last batch is baking, they whip up some icing.
“Can we dye it purple?”
“Purple is not—”
“A Christmas colour, I know, but it is a cool colour.”
Erin stares for a moment, then grabs a small bowl and spoons a small amount in. “You can dye this purple. That’s all. For your Easter egg.”
“Elongated ornament.”
“Sure, Holtz.”
The rest of the icing is divided into bowls and dyed. By the time they get through the process, most of the cookies have cooled enough. They sit at the counter with the bowls of icing between them and get to work.
Years of engineering experience has gifted Holtz with steady hands, so she uses that to her advantage with a piping bag.
Erin peers over. “That’s some intricate piping you’ve got going on.”
“I do have some finesse. Who do you take me for?” Holtz picks up her next cookie and smears on a solid quarter inch of icing with a smirk.
“You’d better be planning on taking half of that off.”
“Or what?”
“Or…” Erin looks around her, like she’s searching for a threat. “Or I’ll do this.” She sticks a finger in the bowl of green and wipes a gob of the icing on Holtz’s cheek before she can even blink.
“Oh, you’re going to get it, Gilbert.” Holtz takes the piping bag and squeezes it at Erin, and a stream of icing lands all over her sweater and lap.
Erin yelps and grabs another scoop of frosting with her fingers, then smears it on Holtz’s arm. They keep at this, giggling, until Holtz has exhausted all the icing in the bag and Erin’s fingers are a mess of different colours.
Holtz grabs an un-iced cookie and scrapes some of the icing on her cheek off. “Waste not, want not,” she says with a wink as she takes a large bite.
Erin looks down at the mess on her clothes, then back up at Holtz. “Maybe we should finish these up tomorrow. I think we’re going to need another batch of icing.”
“I think you might be right.”
“Why don’t we go get cleaned up, then we can watch that movie you were talking about?”
Holtz punches the air. “Yeah!”
In Erin’s bathroom, they wash as much of the icing off as they can and get changed—Erin into a set of matching pajamas and Holtz into a pair of sweatpants she had lying around and an old t-shirt of Erin’s that she claimed a long time ago. That’s about all she has for clothes at Erin’s apartment. Neither of them spend much time there—not since Holtz asked Erin to move in with her a few months prior. Most of Erin’s stuff is already at Holtz’s apartment and they spend most nights there, but Erin hasn’t officially moved in yet. She’s waiting out her lease, which, coincidentally, is finally up at the end of December. Holtz can’t wait.
Erin throws their dirty clothes into the laundry while Holtz gets the movie ready. A few minutes later, Erin plops down on the couch beside her holding two cookies and snuggles into her side. Holtz pulls a blanket over the two of them.
“Ready?” she says with her thumb on the remote.
Erin nods. Holtz pushes play and nestles her head into the crook of Erin’s neck.
As the movie starts, Erin passes her one of the cookies.
“Can we do this next year too?” Holtz asks.
“That’s what a tradition is, Holtz.”
Holtz grins and clinks her cookie against Erin’s. “To tradition, then.”
“To tradition,” Erin echoes with a smile.
“Now shush. We’re already missing a musical number.”