In her car, she pulled out her phone and scrolled to the form she had there. She typed in her notes, her observations, her thoughts on the ice cream itself. When she finished, she typed the next address into her GPS, then chose a little Billie Eilish as her driving soundtrack and pulled out of the parking lot.
On to the next.
* * *
It’s not May yet.
Adley kept telling herself that, every day for the last three weeks when she did the books. Profits were abysmal. But it wasn’t even May yet. It would be in a couple days. But not yet.
Saturdays were the exception to the bad business lately. Saturdays were busy. Her location probably helped. Get the Scoop was not far from Jefferson Square, a part of town known for its shops, bars, and restaurants. It was a bit of a walk, but you could do it if you were up for it. Adley could’ve walked to Martini’s on Thursday night to meet Sabrina, but she’d chosen to drive because the walk would’ve taken a good fifteen minutes. And she was tired. And she was nervous. And driving helped her chill the fuck out.
Of course, that whole train of thought brought her to Sabrina.
Mother Mary on a trampoline, what was she doing?
She’d asked herself that same question about a hundred times since meeting Sabrina four days ago—oh my God, had it only been four days?—and she never had an acceptable answer, other than the one that made no sense. Enjoying myself. How had she lived for thirty-four years and never realized this was something she could do? That having a purely physical relationship—could it even be called a relationship?—with somebody she barely knew would bring her comfort and confidence and fill a void she hadn’t even realized she had? How?
“Did I miss something?” Mandy asked. She was one of Adley’s most reliable employees, the only one over thirty, and she had breezed into the back room of Get the Scoop in her pink logoed T-shirt and baseball hat. Now she was looking at Adley expectantly.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“You’re shaking your head with a mysterious smile on your face.” She pulled open the door to the walk-in freezer. “Just wondered what I missed.” She disappeared inside, then came out carrying a large tub of freshly made chocolate almond ice cream. “All good?”
Adley didn’t have to force a smile. It was already there, plastered on her face, the way it always seemed to be now whenever she flashed back on her time with Sabrina. She wondered if she was also blushing but was pretty sure Mandy’d call her out if she was. “Yeah. All good.”
“Good.” A nod toward the front. “Busy out there.” She headed back up. A few years older than Adley, she was the only employee who wasn’t college or high school age. Most of Adley’s staff came and went with the seasons, but Mandy was a fixture. She wasn’t full-time, but she was close, and Adley was thankful every day. Mandy was reliable and terrific at customer service, and she kept the younger employees in line. She also looked out for Adley, though Adley pretended she didn’t know that and Mandy pretended she wasn’t doing it. It had become a sweet friendship that was important to Adley.
Refocusing her attention, she turned back to the stuff she’d been working on before thoughts of Sabrina had crowded her mind. She poured batter into the waffle iron for cones, then turned to the bowls on the counter. She’d been experimenting with a new flavor. Peach cobbler ice cream. Gee, wonder where the idea to use peaches had come from. She shook her head, felt that unfamiliar feeling of happiness, and did her best to concentrate on work. When the waffle iron beeped, she removed the waffles and rolled them while they were still warm into cone shapes. God, was there anything better than that smell?
When the alarm on her phone went off over an hour later, she jumped, literally. She’d been so intent on mixing flavors and trying to get the right ratios. It wasn’t quite right yet. Plenty of peaches, not enough cobbler taste. Plus, the texture was off. She put everything in the walk-in freezer, then met Mandy’s eyes through the opening in the wall that looked out into the shop. She motioned to the back door, letting Mandy know she was leaving for a bit. Mandy shot her a thumbs-up and nodded, then went back to the customer she was helping.
Feeling confident things would be looked after, Adley took off her apron and hat and left through the back door. Once in her car, she headed toward the east side of town.
* * *
Get the Scoop was much busier than Earl’s, if the parking lot was any indication. And it was a bit of an odd blend of old and new.
Sabrina pulled her BMW into a spot and sat for a moment just looking. The building itself was clearly old, maybe from the seventies or eighties? The paint was chipping on the corners, the drainpipe was sagging a bit on the left, and the shape of the building itself screamed I was built a good forty or fifty years ago! But the sign seemed newer, more modern. And under Get the Scoop was Artisan Ice Cream in a pretty swirly font. And then under that, small batches made by hand.
“All right, Get the Scoop Artisan Ice Cream, let’s see what you’ve got.” She exited her car and headed for the door.
Once she got past the wondrously delicious smell of homemade waffle cones that floated on the air and made her mouth water instantly, she noticed an interesting mix of customers. Not just kids, as you’d expect at an ice cream shop. There were some, of course, but there were also couples, both young and old, and a handful of twentysomething girls at a corner table. A mix was good. A mix meant the product appealed to more than just one demographic.
Sabrina waited in line, scanning the menu on the wall, which was the most modern thing of all in the whole place, electronic and large. And easily altered, she knew. Good for changing flavors, prices, descriptions, all done with a few keystrokes. She really wanted to see the back room, see what kind of equipment they used to make their artisan ice cream. Oh well. She returned her focus to the flavors, which were interesting and unique, and she wanted to taste them all. Maybe she’d have to make a few trips.
The staff was made up of mostly young kids, college or high school aged. Typical for an ice cream shop that was seasonal. The redhead was older, maybe in her thirties, and Sabrina wondered if she was the owner. She seemed to be in charge.
“Hey, what do you guys think of the new Sweet Heaven going in?” the man in line ahead of her asked the redhead as she scooped his chocolate almond ice cream into a waffle cone.
The redhead didn’t even look up as she lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, making Sabrina think she’d gotten this question a hundred times already. “It is what it is, right? We’ll still be here. With our handmade, artisan ice cream.” She stood up with the cone and handed it over with a smile.
“I hear their ice cream is manufactured in a big facility, then shipped.” He wasn’t wrong about that, Sabrina thought. “I bet it’s not nearly as good as yours.” He lifted his cone in a subtle salute and moved on down the line to pay.