[They're already at the farm by now, perched by the sea. Steinbeck glances over his shoulder as he moves to the door, laughing a little when he sees the other man in obvious thought.]

You can make as many cookies as you want, as long as you have the ingredients. No ingredients, no cookies, though.

[........Chatting like this with his friend is......it's nostalgic, in the best of ways.]

[He really did miss this man.]

Anyways, get on in. [He opens the door.] We'll get you fed in no time.