Page 28 of It Started at the Lake

“Here we are.” I point to the shelf lined with ten different scented lotions. All homemade. I’ve never taken time to read the ingredient list, but whatever is in here is like bathing in velvety cocoa butter that smells like the beach.

Millie takes a tester bottle, holding it up to her nose. She closes her eyes, moaning. “That is the best-smelling stuff.” She sniffs again. “What’s in this thing? It’s like crack. I’m immediately addicted.” She flips the bottle over, reading the label.

It’s good. I’m not sure it’s addiction-level good, but good. “Like Linda said. It’s popular for a reason.”

Millie’s eyes get wide. She holds the bottle up to my face. “Fifteen dollars for an eight-ounce bottle? Guess I won’t be buying any. My thirty-two ounce, five-dollar lotion it is.”

It’s easy to forget being around my family that money isn’t a worry for us like it is for other people. And now I sound like a conceited jerk. I’m grateful I’ve never struggled to pay bills or worried about where my next meal would come from.

But am I really doing enough by shopping locally? Jen and I talked frequently about what foundations we wanted to donate to, but never got around to actually picking one. I vow to change that.

Also, has Millie bought herself anything today? Evie and I purchased plenty. But I don’t remember Millie buying a single thing. Do I offer to buy Millie lotion, or will she get offended? I don’t know her enough to say how she’ll react. In the end, I follow her back to the register, where she hands Evie the bottle.

“Thanks, Mils,” Evie says, putting the lotion on the counter.

“If I’m sniffing you, it’s the lotion,” Millie says.

Evie and I chuckle.

“Grab another bottle,” Evie says, motioning to the aisle we came from. “I’ll buy it for you.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” Millie shakes her head. “You’ve bought enough food for me over the years. I won’t let you get me anything else.”

Good to know: Millie doesn’t like handouts. “I think the day needs to end with ice cream. What do you say? Should we head there next?”

Down another block is the only ice cream shop in Stokesley. The ice cream is thick and creamy. My favorite is Death by Chocolate. It’s brownie batter ice cream with brownie bits and fudge swirls. After hours of walking around with these two, I need a treat as a reward for my good behavior on this shopping spree.

“We absolutely need ice cream,” Evie says, handing her card to Linda.

“What flavors do you like, Millie?” I ask.

“I’m not super picky.”

No matter what, I always want chocolate ice cream. “Are you craving anything right now?”

She wobbles her head from side-to-side. “Nothing in particular. I need to see the flavors to decide.”

“Scoops has the best ice cream. I always have a hard time deciding what to get.” Evie takes her bags, three in each hand, and leads the way out the door.

“Hey, I’ll catch up with you,” Millie says, taking a step back toward Linda.

Evie cocks her head. “Everything okay?”

Millie nods. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll be out in a minute. Promise.”

“‘K…” Evie points to the left. “Head that way and you’ll find us at Scoops.”

“Thanks, Linda!” I wave as Evie and I leave her store.

“Come back and see me anytime.”

“We will,” Evie and I say in unison.

I chuckle. “Jinx. You owe me an ice cream.”

Evie elbows me.

The boardwalk, made of stained two-by-fours, is uneven, making my steps slightly wobbly as we walk.

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