Page 92 of Cherry on Top

Will swiped two more sample spoons into the bucket of Tahitian vanilla and watched as they both truly appreciated the complex flavor he’d accomplished.

Most vanilla was an absence of flavor, but he’d brought out the best in the beans he bought.

“It’s all a bit pricey,” Patrick said, “but the quality’s there. That’s some delicious ice cream, son.”

“Thanks,” Will said, genuinely pleased.

He’d been experimenting with homemade ice cream for years now, and there’d been a time when he’d tried to convince his father to swap out the ice cream they bought for his own, for the entire Johnson’s chain.

Patrick never went for it, though, and in retrospect, Will could agree that he’d been right. They’d have had to raise prices, and that wasn’t what Johnson’s was.

It was what Cherry’s was, though, and Will was proud of that.

He was just beginning to think, to actually hope, that they understood that, too, but then his mother said, “You seem like you’re all settled in.”

You know better than to expect things to be different.

“Yeah,” Will said cautiously.

Patrick set his elbows on the counter and leveled that same stare at Will that he’d given him in little league and in high school debate and the first time he’d tried to resist uprooting his life for Johnson’s. “Brewer’s in over his head in Tybee,” he said bluntly.

“Of course he is. That’s not Brewer’s skill set,” Will said. If his dad could be blunt, then so could he.

“Because that’s always been yours,” Carla added persuasively.

It was true. But that didn’t mean he wanted to spend his entire life using it for Johnson’s.

“You said when you left and came here to start this place that you’d still help us out if we needed you.”

He’d said that because he’d been trying to forestall any panicked freakouts.

Of course, he’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But here they were, wanting to cash in on that promise.

“I know I did, but I’m still getting up and running here.” Will shrugged, trying to keep himself calm. “Cherry’s has to be my priority now.”

His parents exchanged looks. Will didn’t need a translator to understand what they weren’t saying. We didn’t expect him to stick to his guns like this. We expected him to crumple, if we showed up.

But Enzo had been right the other night when they’d talked at the beach. If he didn’t stick to this line he’d drawn now, he’d never be able to get them to respect it.

“We’re in a real bind,” Carla said. “Surely you can help us for a week. Two, maybe.”

“Tops,” Patrick added.

But Will knew how that worked. One week would turn into two would turn into four. And he couldn’t leave Kate for that kind of time. Not yet.

Even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.

“I can’t,” Will said. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t.”

He was waiting for one of them to bring up his manager, and of course that was the moment Kate walked out of the back, a perplexed expression on her face.

“Everything alright, boss?”

Will winced, internally. Naturally she’d had to use that nickname just then.

“Uh, everything’s fine,” Will said. Introduced his parents as quickly and painlessly as he could.

Then Kate turned to him and said, “I thought you were gonna meet Enzo for lunch?”

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