Clandestine Confessions

“Reservations are slim. Want to do 9:30 on Wednesday?”
It was the text I received on the evening of Valentine’s Day.
While at my Airbnb watching “Inventing Anna” and eating my favorite sandwich from Maverick.
He and I had begun making plans the day before to go to a restaurant in Park City where his friend is a chef.
I had only been in Utah for two days and yet already felt at home…
–
“That works!” I immediately replied back.
“Sweet, just made it.”
We were texting for a bit back and forth, catching up on life, before I sent the question I have been waiting since the summer to have the opportunity to ask…
“Super important life question for you…where can I find those peanut butter cookies we ate?”
If you have been following my writing for the past year, you will know the ones I am talking about.
The cookies we ate on his deck over coffee.
On my first full day in Salt Lake City back in August before driving to lunch in Park City.
The ones I gave my “yes” without any hesitation or fear.
The ones I thought about every day since…
–
The next day I would visit all the places he listed with no luck.
“Did you find the cookies?” would be his second question to me upon arriving at his house on Wednesday.
“How are you today?” always the first.
“Only chocolate chip,” I told him. “Such a heartbreak.”
“But the scarcity is part of what makes them great!”
“So…my heart loves the optimism, but my taste buds do not,” I said with a laugh.
–
He disappeared into his bedroom and walked out with a watch half on his wrist, head down as he was adjusting it to fit.
“I figure a fancy restaurant calls for a fancy watch.”
He gave a smile as he looked back up, the watch now perfectly positioned.
It was the one I had given him in December…(that deserves its own story).
I bit my lip to hold back the tears.
One still escaped.
“I am so glad you love it.”
“Hey, do you mind if we make a brief stop somewhere first? We have some time to kill.”
–
About two minutes into our drive, he pulled into the Macey’s parking lot.
“We need pre dinner cookies,” he said with a smirk. “Let’s see if they have your peanut butter today. You up for it?”
“Yes, 100%.”
We headed to the bakery section, the bliss of this spontaneous adventure making me more hopeful than ever.
Only to find just oatmeal raisin…
“No worries! Not a total fail,” he said. “These are absolutely delicious too. Worth giving them a shot.”
“I trust you.”
–
And so with cookies in hand, we got back to his car and immediately opened the bag.
I handed him one before grabbing one myself, and we shared in the first bite together.
“So……?” he said, looking right at me as if trying to read my expression before I gave any words to it.
“How do they do it?!?”
He laughed over my genuine enthusiasm.
A combined five minute review from the both of us followed.
The crisp edges but soft middle, the perfect ratio of cookie and raisins, the texture, the subtle but still prominent oatmeal flavor.
“Sweetness” by Jimmy Eat World played in the background as we spoke.
–
We continued to snack on the cookies throughout the drive to Park City.
Despite being on our way to eating a four-course meal that would turn into about eight with all the food they kept bringing out to us.
Did any part of my mind care about that little fact?
Not in the least…
I knew I was safe.
Truly safe.
For the first time in forever.
–
I savored each bite amidst conversations about the moon, my dream to see a moose, our bucket lists, his hiking adventures, and me revealing for the first time to anyone why I was actually there…
“Did you visit any of the coffee shops I recommended?”
“Not yet.”
“What?!? What have you been doing this whole time?!”
“Ummm….looking at apartments…”
It felt surreal to say out loud, and yet so perfect he would be the first to know.
It was only nine months prior he invited me to this state and only five months prior he introduced me to the idea of living here one day.
While in the same place we were now headed.
The biggest smile formed as I watched his countenance change.
“No freakin’ way! You serious?!”
With my gaze now off of him and onto the silhouette of the mountains before us, so confidently I answered, “never surer of anything.”