Misha was humming as she sat in front of the baking oven and watched the cookies blossom, shrink, and harden. It had been years since she last baked them. But now that she's joined a new team officially, she wanted to make a good first impression and get along with everyone. These were the legendary "Misha's Happy Cookies."
Misha had a secret recipe that was a cross between two distinct family lineage - from her Mom's side and also from her Dad's side. Her Mom was in the team 'soft and moist' while her Dad was in the 'hard as rock' team. The rivalry and disdain for each other was real. In every major family gatherings where both sides joined, Mom and Dad each baked their own batch.
Of course, no one from Mom's side even touched the cookies cooked by her Dad, and no one from Dad's side even looked at Mom's cookies. Misha, however, was a rare breed who could appreciate both sides. So there used to be a not-so-secret competition between Mom and Dad - or more like war of the two clans - to see whose cookies Misha would eat more.
Every Christmas, Misha would be presented with a pile of cookies on a plate, a mixed bunch cooked by Mom and her mother, and by Dad and his mother. Although they were to appear identical except for the most discerning eyes - which her parents didn't believe she had - secretly, Misha knew which one was baked by whom. So if she wanted to, she could have been diplomatic and ensure that she takes turns to eat them so that it would end in a draw.
However, the young lady was raised to be a woman with integrity. When it came to competition, she was ruthlessly fair. She ate more of whatever she felt was better on the given day, and would always ensure that she would leave a few of the 'losing one' on the plate claiming that she was full.
Cheers would erupt from the winning faction, while the losing Gran would say she has to go cut some onions. This has become something of a tradition, and things started to go out of hand. Uncles and aunties started secretly making bets, and there were more than a few thinly veiled bribe attempts. The competition got more intense each festive season, and what first started as a fun family tradition became a serious business where even neighbors would come and join. The bets were not so secret anymore, and to ensure fairness, Misha was forced to be blindfolded during the eating ceremony.
Little Misha was growing up, and she could feel that the seasonal Cookie Night was becoming a rather hostile event. There was a growing animosity between the two families and by the age of 12, she knew that she was the only one who could mend the rift between her Mom and Dad's sides.
So Misha secretly taught herself how to bake cookies. She wanted to make a perfect blend that everyone would agree is good so that Mom and Dad would not fight anymore, so that uncles and aunts would not curse at each other, so that Mr. Thompson from down the street and Mr. Lee from the other side would not get into a fist fight again.
On the following Thanksgiving's evening when a large crowd gathered at Misha's house as has become the tradition in the neighborhood, Misha rolled out her cookies, politely pushing the plate placed in front of her aside.
Everyone was confused and shocked. Then Misha proudly announced.
"These cookies will make everyone happy!"
That's how Misha's Happy Cookies were born.
It was neither soft nor hard. Neither sweet, salty, nor savory. It simply tasted… new. There was something inexplicably special about its taste that no one could put their finger on it, an unnameable taste no one's taste buds ever experienced before - or would want to experience ever again.
Everyone took a piece, and Misha's Happy Cookies finally united the families and neighborhood that had been growing apart over the years.
There were rounds of apologies. Mom and Dad hugged, with Mom almost crying. Even Misha's Dad had a grimace on his face that couldn't hide his overwhelming emotions of deep regret. Uncles and Aunties shook their heads in remorse over how they lost the original family spirit behind the 'competition.' Mr. Lee and Mr. Thompson shook hands with everyone - even with each other - as they said their final good-byes, never to turn up at Misha's house again for the festive seasons.
Misha didn't get to bake them ever again as her Dad had a long chat with her afterward. This was a memory he wanted to treasure as a singular moment, something he wants to take to his grave and never re-live it again out of deep respect for the authenticity of the experience.
The young girl was disappointed, but she was happy. And this evening, she was making them again for the first time since then.
The next morning, she brought the cookies to the office. Although she knew they were great, she was still nervous. Still, she worked up the courage to do a round. People generally received them gratefully, and they all took a bite in front of Misha's expectant eyes. And without an exception, their comments ran along the line of,
"This is really something else."
"I never had anything like this before in my life."
"You should quit this job right now and open a bakery."
Misha was over the moon, so by the time she gave one to her direct senior, Ms. Marissa Caldwell, she wasn't even nervous anymore.
The senior took it gratefully with a friendly smile and took a bite.
Then Marissa, a woman who thought she was incapable of crying, shed a single tear ran down her cheek.
"Misha…"
"Yes?!"
"You should bring the rest to Mr. Thorne."
'That's it!' Misha exclaimed inside.
This was sure to erase the memories of any unfortunate incidents from previous days, the thrilled girl thought to herself.
She immediately headed over to the CEO's office. She forgot to knock again this time, but thankfully, nothing monumental was on display today.
"Mr. Thorne, I brought some cookies!"
James looked up from the documents on his desk and saw his young employee. He'd never seen anyone so happy in his office before. Especially considering all that had happened ever since she barged through that door, it was beyond his comprehension how anybody can be so oblivious and look so happy after all that she had done.
Misha didn't wait for his acknowledgment. She made big strides to his desk, put the plate in front of him, and stood still with her hands clasped in front of her chest and her eyes glistening with anticipation.
His mind was refusing it, but his hand moved on its own. He reached out and picked up a piece. He looked up at Misha again, and the girl stood on the spot, almost quivering in excitement.
Unable to stop, he took a bite.
"How is it, Mr. Throne?!"
The Emperor's head was thumping with all the expletives known to men bouncing inside his skull, but as Misha's smile beamed, only one word came out, which he had absolutely no intention to say.
"Good."
Her face lit up like the sun. She bowed deeply and ran out of the room, humming, slamming the door behind her.