Ms Shirley: A new spin on Grandma's Cookies

It had been a while since Jerry had won the case against Gerta, his former caretaker who had been the puppet master behind the scenes that injected a lethal overdose of morphine, as well as potassium chloride, they later concluded from Gerta's written confession, into his Grandmother's veins, effectively cutting Jerry off from the only true family had left. Though it seemed the now young man could finally have a happy start at a real life, he was still unhappy. To Jerry, Grandmother had only had a funeral- when he had put her picture into the time capsule, but he hadn’t properly said good-bye to the elderly woman who raised him, to Jerry, Grandmother was still seething at the foot of his bed each and every time he went to sleep, her soul still lingering in the world of the living, because she still had unfinished business. Not that Jerry hadn't received maternal love in the recent years, Ms Shirley, his former kindergarten teacher and now adoptive mother, had been more than enough, but still, a part of his heart still felt empty, it still had yet to let go from the tragic loss it had endured when the boy was five, it was still stuck there, stuck in time for over twenty years now, too many years for Jerry, and so he decided that this year, would be his last year with part of his heart still stuck in time to when he was a boy of five.

Ms Shirley noticed this, and tried desperately to get her adoptive son to open up to her. At first, she was frightened with the thought that maybe, maybe, Jerry had finally gotten sick of her, and that she was no more than a wannabe mother figure in his life. On the flip side, Jerry in turn also noticed this, and guilt was the only thing he felt when he saw his mother staring at his adoption papers, contemplating the decision that she had made twenty years ago. He knew how much Ms Shirley had sacrificed for him, he knew that she had purposely given up on her own love life for him, his adoptive mother had always had a fear that if she was to ever get married, the husband would beat the poor boy, or traumatise him even further, a fear that was so strong that at the young age of twenty-four, the new mother had parted with heavy makeup and jewellery, as well as any dresses she deemed too tight fitting that would draw attention to herself. Ms Shirley had deliberately wiped the image of a young, pretty woman who was educated clean, and instead replaced it with a new mother who wore only the loosest of clothing in an attempt to draw as much attention as she could away from herself for the sake of modesty. It hurt Jerry to think about his mother, a woman of forty nine who had been deprived of any romantic attention with the exception of any teenage flings she might have had in high school. Though he knew that she had done it all on her own accord, it was still sad to know that Ms Shirley thought of herself as done with dating, as she already had a son, Jerry wanted to take care of his mother as long as she lived, though he also knew she would not take that as a life option, as she also didn't want her son to die alone, she wanted him to have a significant other to care for him when she was gone, even if he was gay, she had told Jerry, she would say nothing about it and should anyone else do so she would make noodles from their intestines if she had her way.

It was at this moment when Jerry was deep in thought that Ms Shirley slipped into his room unnoticed, and noticing the look on his face, remembered the one thing that would make him happy again. Though growing up in an environment that was hostile made him a very serious man, deep down he was a still a child, one that needed to be pampered and loved, one that had trust issues due to his upbringing, and one that therapists had described as a sociopath and a victim of PTSD. But there was still one thing Jerry had notoriously soft spot for:

Cookies, especially those of the chocolate chip breed.

It had been his Grandmother's favourite, and the old woman was known to beam brightly whenever a person praised them. Baking for her grandson had been one of the few things that had brought her joy since seeing her husband die at hospital door, and since seeing her only son become an emotional mess due to his marriage, in turn leading him to die on the streets namelessly, a drug addict lying in his own filth, cold to the touch and convulsing.

Ever since the boy had been brought into her home, Ms Shirley had poured her blood, sweat and tears into perfecting the recipe of her adoptive son's late grandmother, she never seemed to achieve the same touch the old woman did when she spun around in her kitchen humming a merry tune, and she knew it. Though her son said otherwise. Jerry insisted that she need not try time and time again to be the same as his Grandmother, and that her cookies were of a special, unique breed that was in the same tier as the now deceased elderly lady, though they still held an air of specialty. Despite her son's statements of perfection regarding her cookies, and that they were as good as any grandmother's, they only pushed her to try even harder, to get to that coveted level that seemingly only grandmothers and elder women achieved, she wanted to be ahead of her years, like she always was. After whipping up a storm in the kitchen, Ms Shirley had wiped the accumulating sweat on her forehead off using a hanker chief and promptly prayed at a small shrine she had built in a corner of the kitchen, one dedicated to no other than Grandmother herself, for reasons of both hoping to send the elderly lady's spirit to rest, thanking her for allowing her to raise her grandson, as well as asking on a spiritual level how to achieve her coveted tier of cookies. When she finished, she heard a 'ding' and rushed to the kitchen, pulling out the delectable treats in victory and rushing to her son's room.

When Jerry realised over an hour had passed since he decided to look into himself as a person, his mother had opened his door, holding a tray of chocolate chip cookies.