Page 10 of Grumpy Single Dad

"It's not that," she says with thoughtful consideration trickling across her face. "His job is actually really cool. He's like one of those guys you see in action movies where things explode, and he saves the president or something."

"That sounds dangerous."

Frankie nods. "It is. But he doesn't ever tell me about the explosions. He tells me the same stories about the one time he guarded some really famous pop star and saved him from a crazy fan."

"Wow. I imagine he must have a crazy kind of schedule."

Frankie sighs. "Not really. The last person he was in charge of protecting let me hang out with their daughter, and we went to the same school. We have a regular schedule. What's your schedule like, Miss Rye? Do you have to get up before sunrise or something crazy like that?"

I chuckle. "Oh no, I can't do that every day. If I were running a bakery or restaurant that sold breakfast, I would. Luckily, all I have to do is make my ice cream bases for whatever I'm selling for the week."

"That's so cool. What's the craziest flavor you've ever made?" she asks excitedly.

"Um, good or bad?"

She giggles. "Bad."

"That would be chocolate creme brulee toffee. It ended up tasting like black licorice." My nose scrunches, my mouth desperate to never remember that flavor.

"Eww," she says, sticking her tongue out. "Okay, what's about the best good one?"

"If we're talking about crazy and tasting good? That would be my seasonal Thanksgiving Fixins."

"As ice cream?"

"Yup. I was able to make a macaroni and cheddar waffle cone. Sweet potato ice cream with a marshmallow swirl and a sage sausage crumble. I don't know how I even got to those flavors, but I only do it for the month of November because it's a nightmare trying to get everything right."

"I'd have to taste it. I can't imagine it in my head. Can you show me how to make it after we make this pancake one today?"

"Sure, why not? It's better to share the recipes so they're not lost to time."

Frankie lets me walk her around the kitchen and shop to show her how everything works. She's attentive and asks questions as if she has plans to work here. I don't mind, and it's nice to have someone as interested in ice cream as I am.

We spend the next hour crafting different parts of the newest recipe with her name on it. Once Dallas arrives, he smiles as we sit him down to try out every variation we’ve crafted.

"How's the car?" I ask him as he tastes the first sample.

He nods. "This is good but very sweet. The car's going to Chase's shop. He's bringing me a loaner until it's fixed."

"Try this one next, Dad," Frankie insists, pushing a cup covered in a tart strawberry syrup.

She anxiously waits for his reaction. The way his eyes snap shut and mouth puckers send Frankie into a fit of giggles. She can barely get her words out. "That's the one with lemonade pancakes and sour candy swirls."

"Oh, so you set me up?" He grabs Frankie to hug and tickle her. They continue to laugh as I bring over the rest of our samples.

"It was Miss Rye's idea," Frankie blurts out.

"Hey!" I reply, faking shock with a hand clutching my chest. "I would never put out something so sour."

"If it was blue raspberry, it would taste great. Just like those tangy candy straws. What else can we make?" Frankie asks, her eyes darting around.

"I think we need to slow down," Dallas says. "I can see the sugar bouncing off you, Frankie. How about we grab lunch? Are you two hungry?"

"Aww, Dad, but Miss Rye said she knows how to make Thanksgiving ice cream. We can have that for lunch."

I step up to help Dallas sway her, saying, "All of those components take hours to put together, Frankie. I think your dad is right. Let's grab lunch, and we can make a big batch of your favorite sample for you guys to take home. How does that sound?"

Frankie scoffs. "It sounds like you two are in cahoots to get me to eat regular food. You're like those twins working together to trick me."

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