Pure Vanilla Cookie Novels & Stories

As if those words, Coco's Cocktail, wakes him from his jittering, he quickly shakes his head and says under his breath "V-Vanilla" Even though it's a low whisper, it's audible enough but Coco says "You have to be louder, Mel" He bites hard on his lips, his mitten clad hands clapping softly as he repeats the word "Vanilla" My heart does another flip, and I look around the boys, but no one seems a bit jealous. In fact, they looked like they expected nothing less. "Good!" Coco says "Now, you gotta pick who else has to play" He doesn't look up "C-Cream"

he asks me, and follows it up with, “these cookies are excellent. I taste a little something different in them too.” I feel my cheeks turn red. I’m not use to getting any kind of praise, not even for my cooking. “I added pure vanilla bean to the dough so it would bring out the sweetness of the cookies.” I respond shyly. “As far as other things I like to do, well, I play my guitar and sing a little. Self taught with the guitar too.” Preemptively answering that question before he asks. “What do you sing? I would love to hear you sing sometime.” He says.

I guess they ran out of their neat vodka shots earlier. Next are the cookies, and I can feel Kara tense with nerves, hoping everyone will like them. I try her red velvet and give her a wink. It’s chocolaty and gooey and who isn’t going to like it? Everyone selects a mixture of cookies and I try all of them. They are actually so good. Kara has a genuine gift for baking. I bop her with my hip and she lets out a relieved smile.

While it was getting ready, we walked over to the cold-stone section. “Oh my, so many flavors to choose from. What’s your favorite?” Precious asked, turning her gaze to me while I shrugged. “I don’t really have the time to come out here but I’ll go with the plain vanilla” she scrunched her nose and sighed. “As expected, Mr. Billionaire. Let’s add some life to your plainness, shall we? We’ll have one scoop of sweet vanilla and double chocolate in a love-it size cup, with uhm, waffles, gummy bears, sprinkles, and m&m toppings, please.” She ordered while I stared at her in surprise.

She handed over the cookie pieces to the gentlemen. Grandpa Ben laughed and took the half of a star. His eyes lit up with pleasure as he took a bite. The flavors of vanilla, butter, and sugar melted on his tongue as he bit into the crisp cookie. “They are delicious. Come, Ms. Milli; Dorine sent us to find you. Emily is in the nursery and we would like it if you and Mrs. Robinson sat with us.”

' 'I made them, I thought this might cheer you up. I looked down at the tray of cookies, they were just regular chocolate chip cookies. They were round and golden brown. They were not burnt and the smell of butter was so divine. She was looking at me with her equally round, puppy eyes. I thought about what Vernon told me that she and I might be related. I smiled and took a bite. The cookies were just right, not too sweet, and had the perfect texture and the chocolate chips were mixed so well. I didn't know why, but it gave me a sense of familiarity.

“Ooouuu! What's for dessert?” “Cookie dough ice cream. I made it myself “ Julian declared proudly. Adele clapped her hands excitedly. She remembered mentioning how cookie dough held a special significance to her. Her heart melted as the cold, milky aroma of the ice cream wafted into her nostrils. Julian’s cookie dough ice cream was smooth, creamy, and rich with vanilla ribboned with dark chocolate swirls and packed with buttery, chewy chunks of cookie dough that melted on Adele’s tongue like a sweet secret.

Madeleine announced, padding barefoot back into the room with a ceramic tray balanced in her hands, her alpaca socks were now gone. Three mugs of chamomile tea and a little plate stacked with what looked like cookies, pale, crumbly things dotted with nuts and seeds. Her eyes flicked between me and Vince, her smile as soft as ever, “I didn’t know if you were hungry, Vincenzo, but it’s chamomile. And vegan cookies, oat flour, almond butter, flaxseed, no dairy, no eggs. I make them all the time for my friends,” she said.

“Let’s celebrate.” We sat outside a tiny ice cream parlor on the corner of 6th and Bell. The sun had dipped low, casting gold over the sidewalk, and the air had cooled just enough to make the cones melt slower. Mera had chocolate with sprinkles. I had pistachio. Aaron picked vanilla plain, simple and familiar. He licked around the edge of the cone, eyes darting occasionally to Mera, who was busy crunching rainbow bits with dramatic flair. “You know,” she said between bites, “Vanilla is underrated.”

“You’re choosing ice cream.” “Exactly.” He laughs softly. God. I like that sound way too much. Eventually I settle on cookies and cream. Bree gets something with enough chocolate to concern medical professionals. Logan finally chooses after tasting approximately half the menu. And Cole? Gets vanilla. I stare at him. “Vanilla?” “What?” “That’s your choice?” “It’s elite.” “It’s boring.” His hand immediately moves to his chest. “Wow.” “Vanilla is boring.” “It has depth.” “That’s not how ice cream works.”