It was custom, to Mike at least, that when someone gave a plate of food, it would be a good idea to return it with food again. Being sick incapacitated him so easily, he could hardly thank his neighbor enough for her help. Marie had been nice enough to cook dinner for him. He didn't actually know what Marie liked, so, now the plate was full of lumpy looking chocolate chip cookies. Mike was never exactly a chef himself. He rang the doorbell, and waited outside.
Focused intently on the images she was flipping through, Marie nearly dropped her camera when the doorbell sounded, clutching it when her feet hit the floor from the computer chair she was sitting on in her office, preparing to edit the photos from her latest shoot.Ā
She set the camera on her desk, taking a deep calming breath after having damaged such a precious piece of equipment and stood, pulling her hair from the loose ponytail at her side and flipping it upside down to gather it into a messy bun.Ā
With no idea who would be showing up on her doorstep without warning, she pulled the front door open cautiously, but when she saw her neighbor standing there, her eyes lit up and she straightened, pushing open the storm door.Ā
āMike!ā she cried, urging him to come inside out of the chilly winter air,Ā āyou look so much better!ā She pursed her lips giving him a small ātskā, āyou had me worried for a bit you know.ā