Welcome to the Warmth
6:30 a.m.
March 30th
Dear Diary,
It’s the last lonely Thursday here in Fairhaven. Another spring season is here.
The guests aren’t even here yet, but I can already feel them thinking about these damn cookies. I made a new batch with golden chocolate nuggets that will melt as soon as they touch your tongue. They may be the star this year. Or it’ll be my classic chewies. They never let me down.
Unlike Peg. Now that the ovens are back on, she’s already cackling through the kitchen like a witch on break. I didn’t ask her to come, but Peg doesn’t wait for invites — or instructions. Ever since her husband mysteriously vanished last summer, she’s been a whole new person.
But I’m ready for the crowd. I’m ready for the rooms to be filled with noise because the silence is all that holds me every night. Winter has been long and cold and I’m hungry.
Love Always,
Chewy
7:15 p.m.
Dear Diary,
Peg ran to town to get supplies for me today. Her little boutique is always empty since her husband’s incident. I guess it’s good to have legacy. Her dad was some oil tycoon — or gas? One of those rich, forgettable types. And her mom drank too much and said too little. She doesn’t talk about them a lot, but I know she’s probably just like both.
I saw a car come into town today. You know, it’s something special about this place when everyone slows down just enough to wave as they pass by. Checking to make sure I’m still here, I guess, but everybody needs breakfast and everybody loves cookies. A win-win. They’ll come through the door and say “Chewy’s!” like it’s the only word that matters. I just love it. My cookies bring this place joy.
Tomorrow I’ll open the vents and let the aroma fill this town like a thick fog and watch the magic.
Love,
Chewy
