Page 10 of Sweet Surprises

The teens stopped chatting instantly, all of them blinking at her in a sort of stunned silence.

“Flatlanders,” the girl in the back muttered and the others started giggling.

“You get it out of the machine,” the boy told her patiently.

“Oh, a soft serve,” she laughed. “Got it. Maple, right?”

“It’s actually a creamy,” he said, pointing at the board over the machine.

She looked up and sure enough there it was:

Creemee Flavors:

Maple - Vanilla - Chocolate

He wasn’t sayingcreamy, he was saying,creemee.Though she was still no closer to understanding why. She and Allie had been catching up last night while Allie demonstrated how to use the machine, and she must have missed that part.

“It’s thicker than soft serve,” he told her quietly, looking like he felt sorry for her. “They’re really popular here. You should probably know about it if you want to be an ice cream lady.”

“One maple creemee, coming right up,” she told him brightly, trying not to think about the fact that her current aspiration was tobe an ice cream lady, and she wasn’t exactly nailing it.

But on the other hand, she might just decide to eat a maple creemee for lunch, which was exciting.

She got through the teens, and figured what passed for a lunch rush might just be over when another lady in a fancy coat over what looked like a very expensive yoga outfit popped in.

“Hello,” the lady said.

“How can I help you?” Charlotte asked.

“Is this ice cream local?” the lady asked her.

“It’s made by Lawrence Dairy Farm,” Charlotte replied. “The family has been in the dairy business for generations, and the cows are pasture-based.”

She threw that last one in, hoping it would mean something to the lady.

“That’s great,” the lady said, smiling. “And what breeds do they have?”

“What breed… of cow?” Charlotte asked, feeling completely over her head.

“Yes,” the lady said, looking a little concerned.

“I’m new here,” Charlotte explained. “But let me just call one of the Lawrences.”

She tappedBig Brother Tagon her phone once again.

“Now what?” he growled.

“Um, what breed of cows do you have?” she asked him.

“How many times are you going to call me?” he demanded suddenly.

Suddenly, yesterday’s long drive and all the things that had propelled it landed heavily on Charlotte’s chest, and she felt tears begin to prickle her eyes. But she was not about to let a bully push her around.

“As many times as I have to, when your customers have questions,” she lobbed back angrily.

“And I suppose next you’ll want to know if we celebrate the cows’ birthdays?” he asked sarcastically. “And whether we make them little hats and blow out their birthday candles for them?”

“Sure,” she said. “I think they might like to hear that you’re capable of being nice to the cows.”

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