Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis.


Colds and Cookies

Digory Kirke sneezed loudly into his handkerchief. He sniffed and coughed. Aunt Letty's cat rubbed against his ankles, purring. Digory glared down at the contented cat and coughed again. His glare moved to Polly sitting in the chair next to his, giggling.

"You are grumpy today," she mused with a smile.

"You would be too if you were sick and could not go outside on Christmas Eve," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you would especially be grumpy if all your friends are at the park ice skating and you longed for nothing more than to be able to go, too." He pouted.

Polly only chuckled to herself and looked down at the book and small tin can resting on her lap.

"I do not understand why you are not at the park," Digory spoke when she remained silent, looking at her quizzically.

The girl folded her hands. "Well, it is rotten you cannot go since you were so looking forward to it. I thought you would prefer some company instead of spending the afternoon alone."

"But you love ice skating."

She shrugged.

"You can go, really, you know," he said.

Polly shook her head and looked at him. "No, I shall not. If I go, you shall be grumpier." Her lips twitched again.

"Don't be so jolly clever," Digory grumbled, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. "Thanks, Polly," he added softly.

She grinned and handed him the can. "Perhaps these will help cheer you up."

His eyes lit up with interest. "What is this?" He brought it up close to his ear and shook the can.

"Careful, you might make them break," she cautioned, squeezing her hands.

Digory now truly looked excited. "Cookies? Sugar ones?" he asked, setting the can on his lap and taking off the lid.

"I fear they are not sugar cookies," Polly apologized. "They're chocolate chip." She chewed on her bottom lip as Digory's face fell slightly. Nervous, she watched him eat one.

"Are these from your mother?" he asked when he finished the cookie. "They are delicious." He smiled.

"No, she did not make them," she answered, then fell silent and stared down at her hands.

Digory glanced at her and frowned for a second. "You made them!" he exclaimed.

Polly blushed and lowered her head, tracing the design on the book with the nail of her finger. "Mother taught me last week," she said softly.

The boy was completely surprised. "You made these for me?"

The girl nodded.

"Thank you, Polly," Digory said, "for coming and for the cookies." He smiled at her when she finally looked at him. "I'm sorry for being so beastly," he went on.

"Don't worry yourself," she assured him. "And you are welcome." She blushed lightly.

"What book do you have?" Digory questioned, offering her a cookie.

"Treasure Island. I thought you would like me to read it. To help pass the time, you see," the girl said, unsure.

"That would be jolly wonderful, Polly," the boy admitted admiringly. "I do like that story." He settled himself more comfortably on the couch and picked up another cookie. "You are a wonderful friend," he added. And the afternoon no longer promised to be awful or lonesome and boring.

Polly gave him a smile of thanks, her eyes sparkling, and opened the book.

THE END