Page 9 of Sweet Surprises

“Hello?” a deep voice said.

“Hi, um, Tag?” she said.

“Speaking,” he replied.

There was something weirdly familiar about his voice and his curt way of barking out words.

“This is Charlotte,” she said. “Allie’s friend. I’m here at the ice cream shop and a customer has a question.”

“Go ahead,” Tag said.

“Do you use antibiotics?” she asked.

“Not usually,” he said. “We use them only if an animal is sick or hurt and it’s serious. And we discard the milk for a period of time if a cow has had antibiotics.”

“Oh,” she said. “Do you want to talk to them?”

“No,” he said, sounding horrified.

“Okay, then,” she said. “Thanks, Tag.”

He didn’t even say goodbye before hanging up, and she wondered what she had done wrong.

“He said they only use them if an animal is seriously hurt or sick,” she relayed to the two women. “And after that, they discard the milk for a period of time.”

“Okay,” the taller one said, nodding.

“And they’re pasture-based?” the brunette asked, still looking a little worried.

“Oh, um, let me just call him back,” Charlotte said quickly.

She wasn’t sure where else a cow could be based. But maybe there was something about the question that she didn’t understand.

“Yeah?” Tag sounded annoyed when he picked up this time.

“Sorry,” she said. “But are the cows pasture-based?”

He muttered something in a disparaging tone that sounded likeflatlanders.

“What?” she asked.

“Of course they’re pasture-based,” he told her, hanging up again before she could make sure there wasn’t a follow-up question.

“Yes, they’re pasture-based cows,” she told the lady, trying to keep her own face calm and friendly, even though she was starting to get a little annoyed herself with Allie’s big brother for being such a grouch.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” the lady said, smiling.

The two women put in their orders and Charlotte got right to work. A few minutes later, they were heading out with their treats and she was feeling a bit more at home behind the counter.

After that, a man came in with his little son and they both got sundaes. They chose two different kinds, and her hands shook as she tried to make the second one before the first one melted. But they sat at one of the little tables to eat them, and the only thing that melted was her heart at the sight of the two of them trading bites.

One or two more people filtered through as the day passed. At lunchtime, four teenagers came in, jostling each other and sending the bells over the door jangling.

“Hey, can I get a maple creamy?” the first boy asked.

It was an odd turn of phrase, but he didn’t add anything to it. Charlotte stared at him for a second.

“A creamy maple what?” she finally asked.

---