Brody did not look convinced, but she held up a hand, palm forward. “Could be. Okay. I’m just looking out for you. You know that, right?” She waited for Adley to nod, then she gave her a tender smile and in a soft tone said, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”
Adley knew that. She did. Her sister was always on her side. From the time Brody was two and Adley was born, Brody had been her own personal protector. All through school, when she came out to their parents, the first time she had her heart broken, Brody was always there, arm around her, keeping the world at bay, and telling Adley everything was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that her situation with Sabrina concerned Brody.
“I know. I appreciate that.” Another thought occurred to her. “And Jesus, please don’t say anything to Mom and Dad.”
Brody snorted a laugh. “And don’t you say anything to Mom and Dad about me.”
“The Purcell sisters, covering each other’s asses for the past thirty-four years.” Their gazes held for a moment before they both burst into laughter. “You know, for something wild and kind of secret, I’ve told both you and Scottie about Sabrina when I didn’t actually intend to tell anybody.”
“I haven’t told a soul about Paul.”
She decided telling Brody that she’d mentioned her dalliance with Paul to Sabrina probably wasn’t the best course of action in that moment, and instead, she shifted the topic back to ice cream and business and stupid Sweet Heaven and their stupid new ice cream shop.
All the while, though, her brain kept tossing her images of big blue eyes and soft blond hair and the most amazing lips she’d ever kissed.
Yeah. Uh-oh was probably right.
* * *
The afternoon picked up slightly. Again, Adley tried to remind herself that it was still kind of early in the season—not even technically summer yet—and she just needed to be patient. Business would pick up. That being said, she sent two of her employees home and took their place behind the counter. It was one thing she’d promised herself when she’d opened, that she would never be above getting behind the counter and scooping ice cream herself. Plus, it was good for people to see her face.
So it would be she and Mandy and one high school boy, Jeremy, until closing, and Mandy was on her break.
“It’s my birthday,” the little girl in line said as her turn came up.
“It is?” Adley asked. “How old are you today?”
The little girl struggled, then held up four fingers. “This many.”
“Four? You’re four? Wow, that’s big. What kind of ice cream would you like to celebrate this very important birthday?” She lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of the man she assumed was the girl’s father.
He looked down at the girl. “Final answer?” She nodded her head enthusiastically. He looked back up at Adley. “One banana split, please, with…” He gestured to the girl to go ahead.
“Strawberry, chocolate chip, and cake batter.” She glanced up at the man, who raised his eyebrows in expectation. “Oh. Please.”
“One banana split with strawberry, chocolate chip, and cake batter ice cream, coming right up. Go have a seat after you pay, and I’ll bring it out to you.” While Adley loved creating new flavors and new desserts, there was something comforting about making a classic. She scooped the three flavors into the boat-shaped bowl, split the banana, and drizzled her homemade chocolate sauce over it. Then she added a squirt of whipped cream—also homemade—on each scoop, added three maraschino cherries, and then stuck a candle in the center scoop. Mandy grinned over her shoulder as she returned from her break and sent Jeremy to his, and Adley lit the candle, then carefully brought it to the girl, singing “Happy Birthday.” Mandy joined in from behind the counter, and it was only a couple seconds before most of the shop was singing. The little girl’s grin was so wide, and she clapped her hands together when Adley set the dish in front of her, and then the whole place clapped when the song was finished and she’d blown out her candle. And the sheer joy on that little girl’s face made every worry of Adley’s vanish.
“Thank you so much,” the father said quietly to Adley as the little girl dug in. “This means more than you know. She lost her mom about eight months ago, and this is her first birthday without her.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Adley brought her fingers to her lips, and her heart began a painful aching.
“I know she’s only four and this probably isn’t going to be super memorable years from now, but…” He shrugged and looked Adley in the eye. “It means more now than you know. Thank you.”
She nodded and squatted down so she was eye level with the little girl, who already had whipped cream on her chin. “Good?”
The girl nodded, eyes big and wide.
“What’s your name?” Adley asked.
“Madison.”
“Well, Madison, my name is Adley and this is my shop. You come in anytime you want, okay?”
More nodding. “I wanna try all the flavors.” Madison drew out the word all so it had about four syllables.
“I bet we could arrange that.” She pushed herself to standing and ruffled Madison’s blond hair. “Happy birthday, Madison.” She returned to the counter to help Mandy, suddenly feeling lighter. Less stressed. Just…better.
The next person in line was a gentleman of about forty or so, with sandy hair, a bright orange tie, and way too much aftershave.
“Hi there. What can I get for you?”
“What’s your policy on tasting? Like, sampling?” There was only one person in line behind him and Mandy was taking care of her, so Adley leaned her forearms on the top of the display case as she spoke.
“I’m happy to give you a little taste of anything you’re interested in. Or we have our sample platter, which is three quarter-scoops of three flavors of your choice for two fifty. What do you like? Maybe I can help?”
And for the next nearly twenty minutes, she gave the man taste after taste. Sometimes, he let the bite roll around in his mouth and looked like he was thinking. Others, he’d ask her questions about ingredients, ratios, shelf life. Soon, there were a good eight or ten people in line behind him. Thank God, Jeremy came off his break to help Mandy.
Finally, the man asked if he could take a pint of Baby Bear to go, so she scooped it up and sent him on his way.
Mandy must’ve heard her relieved sigh, because she sidled up close and said quietly, “He reminded me of a guy that comes to my friend Lindsay’s wine bar. She calls him Mr. Can I Taste That because he samples enough wine for free to fill an entire glass before he ever actually buys one.”