Page 104 of Revelry
“What would you like?” Scott asked the moody teenager whose cool glance flitted up from his phone for a moment before returning. Scott sighed. “Come on, it was your idea to come here tonight.”
The teen assessed the ice cream. “Nothing.”
I tried not to take it personally, especially as the teen’s eyes flicked to me and lingered before losing himself back in his phone.
“Teenagers,” Scottrolled his eyes, smiling. “Can I get a Chocolate Cookie Sandwich?”
“Sure.” I got to work scooping, my wrist starting to hurt from the repetitive strain. I handed the youngest his rainbow conewith sprinkles. He had one lick before his eyes widened and he squealed.
“It tastes like a rainbow!”
I laughed. “That’s what I was aiming for.”
“She’s magic,” he whispered to his father. I laughed again before handing over the chocolate ice cream scoop smushed between two cookies.
“Thank you, uh?”
“Gertie,” I replied.
“Thank you, Gertie. Have a lovely evening,” Scottsaid then paid and walked away.
He hadn’t pushed me any more to speak to Tate, but it was clear he wanted to connect with him. I had expected him to try and get around me but he didn’t. He accepted what I’d said and that his son didn’t want to speak to him, even though I could tell it broke his heart.
A while later, I was packing up, amazed that I had almost nothing left, just some last few chunks in the bottom of tubs. My pockets were overflowing with cash for charity and I couldn’t wait to bask in the success with Tate and thank him for helping me, for pushing and supporting me.
I was almost finished when the teenager, Tate’s half-brother, came back over.
“Hi,” I said, shocked he was on his own.
His eyes were bright when he asked. “Which flavor does, um, Tate like?”
“Oh, uh, he likes this one.” I pointed to the Strawberry Dream, the last little bit that I was saving for Tate.
“Can I have that?” His hopeful expression softened me towards him. “Please?” he added.
I was saving it as a thank you but I’m sure there were other ways I could thank Tate. Also, I’d left a whole tub in his freezerand I could always make him more. I felt like I would be making Tate this ice cream for the rest of his life at this rate.
“Sure. Sprinkles or sauce?”
He looked over his shoulder and was bouncing on his feet like he was in a hurry.
“Does Tate have either of those?”
“No, that’s far too messy and he likes to taste just the ice cream,” I replied.
“Then just the ice cream, please. Same as him.”
“You want to be like him, huh?” I joked, but the teen’s eyes dipped and his mouth pulled down. He reluctantly nodded and I paused, realizing how much he looked up to his brother that he didn’t even know. How he clearly did want to be like Tate, was probably eager to get to know him based on how excited he’d seemed when he thought Tate was close by.
“I keep trying to meet him. Keep trying to get us close but it doesn’t work out,” he blurted. Then shook his head like he shouldn’t have said that. “How much is that?”
I held out the cone. “Four dollars.”
“Oh crap, I only have three. I’m sorry.” He fumbled in his pockets but kept coming up empty.
“Tell you what, I’m done now anyway so you’re doing me a favor by taking this last drop off my hands. Less for me to throw away, so just take it.”
He glanced at me, that teenage skepticism in his eyes. I waved the ice cream at him, trying to entice him.
