Page 102 of Revelry
“You’ve got this,” Tate whispered behind me, running a palm over my back in soothing circles.
A couple of people glanced at the stall as they strolled past and instead headed for the burger place.
“I knew it!” I hissed at Tate. “I knew it was stupid to sell ice cream in winter!”
The bastard had the gall to laugh at me. “Hold your nerve, Gertrude.” He spun me back to face the crowd and patted my ass again which did little to calm me down this time.
It was an hour before someone ventured over and my nerves were shredded. Tears were constantly threatening to spill but I kept a smile pasted on my face, all while Tate murmured soothing words.
“Mom, I want ice cream!” A child shrieked and my heart pounded. This was it. The kid dragged her mother over who was already weary and just gave in.
“What’s that one?” the child asked, the multicolored ribbons in her hair swishing with each movement. She was pointing to the colorful cream swirl filled with candy pieces.
“Rain…Rainbow Surprise,” I stumbled, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth.
“Mama, I want a rainbow one!”
The mother sighed and gave me a tight smile. “Can I have a small Rainbow Surprise and a Rum and Raisin?”
I stood stock still, staring at her, unable to believe someone wanted what I’d made. Tate nudged me from behind, clearing his throat.
“Gertrude,” he murmured, and I snapped out of my daze.
“Of course! Coming up, would you like any sprinkles on your Rainbow Surprise?” I asked the child who glanced at her mother. Tired Mom sighed again and reluctantly nodded. I handed her the cone and she gazed at it with awe. “Look Mom, it matches my hair!” she shrieked and swished her ribbons again.
I turned back to do her mom’s cone. “Can I have alargescoop please? It looks delicious and I need a treat to reward myself for the terror she’s going to turn into once all that sugar hits her,” she groaned.
I laughed. “Sorry not sorry and yes, have an extra-large scoop. Any sauce?”
“Chocolate please.”
I drizzled the chocolate sauce over the ice cream and handed it to her, she gave me a ten-dollar bill and told me to keep the change. I nodded, murmuring athank youand stared at the note in my hand.
The first ice cream money I’d ever made.
“Well done, Gertrude.”
I turned and stared at Tate, a slow smile working its way onto my lips. Before I could process that I’d made my first ever sale, I was distracted by a child screaming.
“No fair, Mommy! They got ice cream. I want ice cream!”
Eventually another parent was dragged over to my stall and more scoops were doled out. The crowd grew thicker and then someone was ordering a waffle with a scoop of ice cream. I’d brought a little waffle maker which was plugged into a socket available from the temporary generator.
While the waffle was warming, I served two more customers. It became so busy at one point that Tate stepped in to help out before I started losing customers. I was frazzled, not coping with the fact that people wanted to buy my ice cream, that I could hear compliments and customers raving about it as they went away. Imposter syndrome kicked right in.
While I was sorting out the waffles, I could hear Tate talking to a young couple who had stopped by.
“Yes, makes it all herself by hand. No fancy machines, just passion and dedication in each scoopful.”
I stared at him, amazed to hear the words falling out of his mouth. He was so chatty with everyone. When did he become such a man of the people? He was stepping in and helping out, and my heart warmed in the cool winter night at him showing up for me when I needed him to. At him supporting me and my silly little ice cream dream.
After a few hours I was almost out of ice cream. I handed an older man his lemon and lime sorbet. “What’s the place called?”
“I’m sorry?” I asked over the loud crowd.
“Your business, what’s it called?” he asked again.
I turned to Tate who looked at me and raised an eyebrow, all smug andI told you so. What was it he had said to me in the truck about living the dream? If this was a taste of what I could do, then I was already hooked. This evening had started out bumpy but had ended up being amazing. I’d spoken to so many people, heard personal stories about times their family had taken them for ice cream, memories attached to certain flavors.
