Page 29 of It Started at the Lake

“You can afford to pay for your own ice cream,” she says.

“That’s not the point of a jinx.” Will Millie buy herself ice cream? “What did Millie want to talk to Linda about?”

Evie shrugs. “Most likely a job, but I’m not sure.”

I’m a little surprised Millie agreed to come with Evie this summer if she needs a job. Why not stay in Amherst where there are a lot more work opportunities than Stokesley? But she said last night this is her first real vacation. Maybe that’s why she came? I pull open the glass door to Scoops. The scent of sweet batter baking, sugar, and milk fills the store. I inhale deeply, loving the smell of the ice cream shop.

We go to the glass display case, staring at the flavor cards detailing what items are in each kind of ice cream. I find Death by Chocolate and point to it. “I’ll take two scoops in a bowl, please.”

“No cone?” Millie’s voice says from behind me. “That’s the best part.”

I turn around, facing her, wagging a finger. “Incorrect. The ice cream is the best part.”

“Yeah, but when you’ve had enough of licking the ice cream—bam!”—she smacks her hands together—“you get another flavor mixed in with the addition of a slight crunch. AKA perfection.”

Evie rolls her eyes. “You can both get what you like best without needing to make the other agree with you.”

“Can we, though?” I ask. “I feel like there’s only one right answer here.” I smirk. “Mine.”

Evie points a finger at Millie and me. “If you two can’t get along, we’re leaving.” She glares at us. “Without ice cream.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Mils says apologetically. She flashes me a wink.

I grin, liking that Millie is verbally sparring with me. It’s much better than her standoffish behavior while shopping. But why the sudden change? She’s been slightly different every time I’ve interacted with her.

Though the same might be said about me.

Millie’s lips pull into a huge smile, and my heartrate kicks up a few notches. Her face lights up when she looks like that. Why does this random person (okay, not random, but someone I don’t know very well) make my insides do weird things?

I look away, unable to keep staring into her beautiful face. “We’ll behave.”

“I’ll get the Salty Beach,” Evie says. “Although I also really wanted the S’mores one as well.”

Millie stands behind my cousin and rests her chin on Evie’s shoulder. “You know, I’m pretty sure you’re allowed to get one scoop of each kind.”

“Blasphemy,” Evie says, like Millie recommended we drop a pile of steaming dog poo in the store.

I scrunch my nose. “True. No mixing. It disrupts the integrity of the flavors.”

The teen standing behind the counter, wearing a black apron, pipes up. “People get multiple flavors in a cone or bowl all the time.”

Evie acts offended. “Well, they shouldn’t,” she scolds. “I’ll stick with the Salty Beach and come back another day for the S’mores.” She shoots a dirty look at the worker and Millie.

“Sure, ma’am,” the employee says. “Do you want a bowl or cone? One scoop or two?”

Evie turns and mouths, “Ma’am? I’m young!” then places her order.

I smirk and mouth back, “Not too young, ma’am.”

Millie eyes the giant chalkboard with handwritten pricing. “I’ll take a child sized cone with Cracked on Cake.”

My stomach is burning like acid is playing hopscotch. I can’t stand watching Millie be so cautious and frugal, worried about a two-dollar cone. I’m itching to swoop in and buy her a bigger size. But seeing her reaction to Evie’s offer of getting fifteen-dollar lotion, I’m sure she’d bite my head off if I paid for a six-dollar ice cream. I don’t fully understand, since money’s not an issue for me. But putting myself in her shoes, I can see why Millie wants to stand on her own two feet. To not feel like she’s only Evie’s friend because of Evie’s money and what it will buy her. Something we’ve dealt with many times growing up.

As much as I want to be the hero, I bite my tongue instead. I admire Millie for standing her ground and truly loving my cousin and respecting their friendship. It’s this sentiment I hold on to as the employee hands me my ice cream bowl, overflowing with ice cream, then hands Evie hers, also overfilled. And then Millie, with barely a half-scoop on her pitiful cone.

I take a bite without my spoon, letting the sweet chocolate and fudge coat my tongue. Tapping my credit card on the machine, I swallow and take another bite. By the time I pay and Evie pays, Millie is biting into her cone already. My ice cream turns sour in my mouth.

How does Millie go shopping with Evie and have the self-control to purchase nothing? How does Evie handle keeping Millie’s boundaries instead of steamrolling and saying she wants to take care of her because that’s what friends do for each other?

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