Zucchini Spice

          “We decided to make the raspberry bars this year,”  Brad the firefighter said as he showed Maryann a cellophane wrapped paper plate filled with pinkish purple rectangles. “What did you bake this year?” 

      “Soft zucchini spice cookies.”

      “Zucchini?” Then he grinned. “I’m sure they’ll be great. Your cookies always are.”

      He never came out and said so but everyone had guessed that he always baked for the Annual Hollytree Village Cookie Exchange. His wife, a pretty librarian, came with him to the party, drank a glass of wine and tried to divert her conversations away from baking.

      Her guests were no doubt wondering why Maryann had decided to have the 2019 Cookie Exchange in her bungalow; it was practically the smallest house in the development. It was also the oldest house in the development. When the developers bought the land they tore almost everything down to build bigger houses on bigger lots. They left Maryann’s bungalow because its small backyard abutted a hilly wooded area that would be too expensive to clear and grade to make a bigger lot. Maryann liked it because it was what she could afford from her salary as a medical coder and was just the right size for her and her tomcat, Keanu.  

       Hollytree Village was not a village. It was barely a neighborhood. The majority of its residents drove somewhere else to work, shop, or have fun. Until they were old enough to drive there, the Village school children rode the yellow buses to the public school campus a few miles away where there were several elementary schools, two middle schools and a big high school all with made-up Native American names. The only holly trees in the entire state were in arboretums. In order to combat the impression that Hollytree Village was a place where you owned a big new house  where you ate, slept, and watched tv when you didn’t have somewhere better to be, the development company spent a certain amount of money and effort offering clubs, picnics and other events to promote community spirit. Most of these generated only desultory interest. For some reason the Annual Winter Holiday Cookie Exchange took off with greater interest every year. There is something about cookies and the holidays that creates widespread interest and unacknowledged rivalry.

      Maryann had a private reason for having this year’s Exchange at her house. She sent her invitations out two weeks before Julia, with her big perfect living room and her three perfect kids, usually sent out hers. She was sure there were discussions in many households but most of her guests felt it would be unneighborly to outright snub her so they all sent R.S.V.P. ‘s saying they would attend. Julia came and brought the Italian Sprinkle Cookies that she made every year. Having to change her plans made her frosty and terse with Maryann which didn’t bother Maryann because when Julia did talk to her she was usually condescending. 

       Maryann’s house was actually too small to accommodate all the guests who would attend the party but as a party the Cookie Exchange wasn’t much. Guests arrived, put their cookie portions wrapped on paper plates on the table, wordlessly assessed the effort and execution of their neighbors’ cookies, poured a glass of wine into a plastic cup, stood drinking and discussing baking and the holidays, chose the cookies they wanted to take home, and left. The whole thing from first guest arrival to last guest departure rarely lasted more than an hour and a half. Maryann had her neighbor Stephen help her move the small round table where she ate meals into the back room and set up the larger table she rented to hold the cookies. Other preparations she took care of herself. She bought an adequate supply of wine and soda. This was not too expensive, people didn’t come to the Exchange for beverages and the etiquette was loose; if guests wanted something different they were free to bring it. One of the last things she did before the party was throw Keanu’s catnip mouse into his carrier and shut and latch the door after he ran in. He usually had the run of the house but he was an active curious cat that could ruin the party by being underfoot.

       As she expected most of her guests were the women of Hollytree Village. The men who attended either did it because their wives persuaded them or they really liked cookies. Beth, a hospital nurse,  brought her lemon squares. She would have liked to have her husband Tom there but he was a cop and when he socialized he preferred to do it with other cops. 

       Stephen and Hugo brought date swirls. Maryann wasn’t sure whether Stephen or Hugo baked them but there seemed to be a tension between them that indicated they didn’t bake them together.

     The Cookie Exchange was one of the highpoints of Maryann’s year. She considered herself an experimental cookie artist. She wasn’t satisfied with Christmas tree cutter sugar cookies heavily sprinkled with green sugar. She didn’t just find a recipe that most people liked and bake it every year. Baking cookies was an outlet for the creativity that she didn’t use in her conventional just follow the rules job. All year she would find recipes for unusual cookies on the internet and in second-hand cookbooks. When she found something interesting she tried it out. Sometimes her experiments did not work but most of the time they did; she was a careful, experienced baker who could usually tell by reading a recipe how the cookies should come out and exactly what needed to be done to perfect them. She did not think much about her appearance or health but realized all the baking was making her overweight. She always brought the best cookie she tried out that year to the Exchange, a different cookie each year. Many people looked forward to getting her cookies but others left them as “too different.”She had little respect for their opinions. She could get obsessive about cookies.

        Truth be told Maryann could be obsessive about everything. This was why her supervisors at the HMO she worked for barely checked up on her as she worked from home. They knew that she would be at her computer putting in at least forty solid hours of work without fail every single week. Her obsessiveness may be why it was just her and Keanu in her bungalow. When she was a teen her mother used to say, “Maryann, it seems people can only take you in small doses.”

       She blushed a bit when she thought of the first time she made the zucchini spice cookies. It was a Sunday in August when zucchini are plentiful and locally grown. She found the recipe on the internet and despite being hot she had gone on a baking and house cleaning binge. About eight in the evening Stephen unexpectedly rang the doorbell with Thai takeout and a bottle of wine. She hadn’t eaten yet so she let him in. 

       Stephen was an English teacher at the high school. When he and Hugo moved in some of the women in the Village actually said, “It’s too bad he’s gay,” but Maryann knew better than to use such a gauche cliche. He was very handsome with his wavy auburn hair and deep dark eyes. She had always had neighborly feelings toward him and Hugo. In the past few months she and Stephen had become friends; possibly her best friend in the Village. They had started talking when she would meet him while she was walking Keanu and he was walking their Yorkie Sandy. She did walk her cat on a leash. The area was full of reckless drivers, roving dogs, boys with BB guns. There were even rumors that there were coyotes in the woods. Keanu was her only companion and she couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him. Keanu was used to it; he trotted along ahead of her and rarely caused her problems. She and Stephen talked about movies, baking and whatever else came to mind. He always had a line or two ready from an American poet, either appropriate to make you think or inappropriate to make you laugh. Maryann began to muse on their conversations and anticipate the next one.

     “I hope you don’t mind my popping in unannounced; Hugo’s still in New York City and I was feeling lonely.” He put the takeout bag on her little round table. “Where’s your corkscrew?”

      Maryann went to the kitchen to get the corkscrew. Hugo was a partner in a corporate insurance firm. They had gotten involved with a startup project involving several companies. They wanted Hugo there for the negotiations so any policy could be made immediately.

       Maryann brought in the corkscrew,glasses, plates and a fork for herself. Stephen would use the chopsticks he picked up at the restaurant. They sat down, shared the food and wine and talked.

        “I baked some cookies this afternoon. Would you like to try some?”

        “Sure thing!”  He walked over to the corner where she had her entertainment center and examined the titles of her laser discs. “I see you like Sandra Bullock.” 

        Maryann liked to think that her collection of about four dozen movies was varied but she did have all of Sandra’s movies including the disappointing “Murder By Numbers.” “If you want to, while I get the cookies pick one out and we can watch it together.”

        When she brought him the cookies he was boyishly enthusiastic. “Thank you so much! These look great! Raisins and walnuts!” he said with a beaming smile.

         He took a bite. His face became serious as he chewed. He looked like an elderly aunt who knew the difference between a good cookie and a bad cookie and was happy to give her opinion. 

        “I can taste the cinnamon, the nutmeg and, um, the cloves. How did you get the nice soft but not mushy texture?” 

        “I think that’s the zucchini, I grated it to just the right size.”

        He beamed again. “These are delicious! These will be the talk of the Cookie Exchange unless of course you have something better up your sleeve.”

         They sat on the loveseat, watched “Miss Congeniality,” ate a few more cookies and finished the wine. Stephen insisted on topping off her wine and she drank more than she had planned. During the credits, out of the blue, Stephen kissed her.

         Maryann wasn’t clear about how it happened but he stayed the night. She did everything Stephen wanted including a few things she hadn’t tried before. That was all right, she liked to try new things.

         The next morning Maryann lay contentedly next to Stephan when his phone buzzed.

         “Oh, Hugo’s plane gets in at noon. I better get home and check on Sandy and make sure everything is ready.”

         He got dressed and was on the way out her front door before Maryann even thought to ask him if he would like her to make him some coffee.

        Maryann spent the day with confused feelings. She enjoyed last night but didn’t know what it meant. 

        The next day she texted Stephan a lighthearted “Whassup?” There was no response. She waited a few hours. Nothing. She dialed two random businesses to listen to their recordings to make sure her phone was working. Every other day for the next two weeks she texted Stephen completely innocuous messages in case Hugo could see them. She knew it would do her no good to let this upset her but somehow she found herself always thinking about how she could fix this and realizing all of her solutions would only make things worse. She tried to remember what the therapist she went to long ago told her to do when she got anxious and was thinking of doing something dangerous. She noticed that nowadays Hugo walked Sandy. She needed to talk to somebody about this but Stephen wouldn’t talk to her and she was too ashamed to talk to anyone else. 

        By late September she eventually got a grip. One evening in October she was walking Keanu when she happened to see Stephen out with Sandy. She thought about turning around but Keanu pulled on the leash. He missed Sandy. He liked little dogs; if anything Keanu made Sandy nervous rather than the other way around. Sandy barked and wagged her tail. Maryann decided that there was nothing she could do. The pets sniffed at each other as the humans talked briefly. I became very apparent to Maryann that they could remain friendly neighbors only if she never alluded to the night in August.

       She took Stephen aside at the party and said in a low voice, “I have a surprise for you in my bedroom. I saw it in an antique shop and thought of you.”

       He hurried off toward the back of the house. She knew the boy in him couldn’t resist a surprise and the old aunt couldn’t resist “antique shop.” She waited.

       “OWW! What the _____!”  

       Everyone rushed to the sound, Hugo at the head. Maryann held back. She knew what she would see and wanted everyone else to get a look. She pressed the clicker that turned on her bedside light. She had unscrewed the bulb of the overhead light so Stephan would walk in the dark after trying the switch by the door. Now everyone could see Stephan’s right leg was caught by the ankle in a foxtrap that Maryann had chained to the footpost of her bed. She had found the trap in a pile of junk in a barn with an inexpertly painted wooden “ANTIQUES” sign that she stopped at on a whim. The gaunt old man in overalls that ran the place resisted asking what she wanted it for as she haggled just enough to allay suspicion because trapping was illegal in this part of the state.

       She could only see the back of Hugo’s bald head but somehow could tell that he knew that there was a reason this happened and he had a good idea what that was. Stephen shook his trapped leg and actually burst into tears.

        “Dammit,” Hugo said as he went in, knelt down, and released Stephen. Hugo took Stephen by the shoulder and led him to the front door. In one way it looked like a man helping his injured partner home but it looked more like Stephen was getting the bum’s rush. 

         After they left the other guests began to act like they suddenly remembered they had someplace important they had to be. They hurriedly chose their cookies, said some quick goodbyes and vanished.

          All in all, the party went according to plan. Stephen wasn’t seriously injured. Maryann could tell Beth was about to offer to look at Stephen’s leg but Hugo got Stephen out the door too fast. Hugo would not take him to the emergency room. For a few days it would be too painful to walk on so Stephen would need a crutch. For a few weeks after that he would have a limp. Maryann supposed she committed  a crime but pressing charges would mean Stephen would have to tell Hugo and the police out loud why he thought this wasn’t just a strange accident. Stephen and Hugo had been together a long time so this wouldn’t break them up but now Hugo knew what a weak selfish man he had married. He would be more suspicious so Stephen would find it harder to manage “little bits of fun on the side.” They’d have more fights about little things that would get harder to forget. Eventually their relationship would become a dead thing based on the fact that neither wanted to move out. Maryann was sorry if she caused Hugo pain. He had never hurt her. She did not feel at all sorry about Stephan. 

            She took the trap apart and stuffed the pieces down in her trash can outback. She didn’t want anything else to get trapped. She let Keanu out of his carrier and  began to pick up after the party. The guests didn’t seem to want the zucchini spice or the date swirls.