Page 16 of Follow My Heart

By the time more people started filtering in for the evening, I’d created a solid plan for a class, and I was excited about it. I loved creating new flavors. Maybe this would be an opportunity to share that passion with other people. I could hold a contest to create a flavor of the month, name it after the winner. If I couldn’t physically expand right away, I could live stream it on social media.

After I closed the shop, I headed over to Grandpa’s. He was sitting in his rocker on the porch.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I teased him.

He raised a brow. “Shouldn’t you?”

I sat on the top step. “I was too excited to sleep.”

“And why is that?” Grandpa asked with interest.

“Your neighbor, Ryder, and his daughter, Faith, came in today. She was interested in learning how to make ice cream, and it gave me the idea to host classes.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“I’m using her private class as a way to figure out how to structure it.”

“You want to share your process with other people?”

“I get excited about creating new flavors and getting them just right.” I didn’t like when my chocolate tasted like everyone else’s. I wanted it to be different, better. I worked until it was a rich flavor, far beyond what you’d get in a carton at the store. I used real Oreo cookies in the cookies and cream. Real strawberries in the strawberry ice cream. Everything was natural. It was my theory that it made it better than the competition. My mint ice cream wasn’t that dyed-green color, even though kids were sometimes put off by the unfamiliar white.

“I think people are going to love it. How can they not when you’re so passionate about it?” Grandpa said as he slowly rocked.

It was dusk, the evening getting darker as the days bled into fall. But there were still quite a few people out walking with their kids or their dogs. I told myself I was here to see Grandpa, to share my new idea with him. But there was a part of me scanning the streets for any glimpse of Faith and Ryder.

I forgot to ask how bike riding was going when they came into the shop. I was distracted by Ryder’s presence and Faith’s questions about ice cream.

“I think I’m going to get ready for bed.” Grandpa rose slowly, and I hurried to offer a hand if he needed it.

“Mr. George. Look at me.”

I turned to see Faith riding her bike a bit wobbly up the street. Ryder stood next to her, a proud look on his face.

“You’re doing it!” I exclaimed as I moved down the sidewalk to meet them.

“I kept practicing the hills like you suggested. I can’t do it at home. Only when I’m visiting Dad.”

“I can see it’s really helped with your balance.”

Faith grimaced. “I don’t want to be the only twelve-year-old that can’t ride.”

“You won’t be. You’ve made so much progress.” I guessed that in a few weeks her dad wouldn’t be walking along beside her. She’d be doing it on her own.

“That’s great, Faith,” Grandpa said as he sidled up next to me.

“The shop closed for the night?” Ryder said, his gaze settling on me in a way that made me feel warm all over, even though the evenings were cooler now.

“Yeah, I just stopped by to visit with Grandpa before bed.”

“Speaking of which, I’m up past my bedtime. I’d better get inside.”

I turned to follow him. “I can walk you?—”

“No need.” Grandpa waved me off. “I can still manage to get myself to bed.”

I kissed his cheek, my heart full. “Good night.”

Grandpa patted my cheek. “Night, Violet.”

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