Page 48 of Finders Keepers

“We should bring her sometime,” Gavin suggests, then quickly adds, “If you want to, of course.”

The thought of Sophie’s face lighting up at this place makes me smile. “She’d go crazy over all the games.”

We step up to the counter where a teenage boy with braces greets us with an enthusiastic “Welcome to Scoops. What can I whip up for y’all?”

The display case shows dozens of flavors, each one looking more tempting than the last. Everything from classic vanilla to wild concoctions like bubblegum cheesecake and cotton candy swirl.

“I’ll have a strawberry smoothie,” Gavin orders, then turns to me with an expectant smile.

“Mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone, please,” I say. “With rainbow sprinkles,” I add impulsively, thinking of how Sophie always insists sprinkles make everything taste better.

While we wait for our orders, I notice more details about the shop. An old-fashioned jukebox stands in one corner, its neon lights casting a soft glow across the checkered floor. Black and white photos of the town from decades ago line the walls—storefronts that I recognize despite their dated appearances, families enjoying ice cream on what looks like this very spot. It feels like stepping back in time, yet somehow perfectly comfortable, as if this place has been waiting for me all along.

The employee hands us our treats and Gavin pays. Then we settle into a booth with our treats. A deck of cards sits in a wooden holder on the table.

“Up for a game?” He asks, already reaching for the cards.

“What did you have in mind?”

“How about Go Fish? Simple but classic.”

“Seriously? Go Fish?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. I’m a Go Fish champion.” He starts shuffling the cards with surprising skill. “Unless you’re scared of losing?”

“Oh, it’s on now.” I take a lick of my ice cream cone. The mint is fresh and cool, the sprinkles adding perfect little bursts of extra sweetness.

As Gavin deals the cards, I watch his hands. Steady, confident movements. The same hands that heal animals, that reached out to comfort me earlier at dinner. Safe hands. Not like…

The thought of Matt crashes into my mind like an unwanted visitor. I should tell Gavin. He deserves to know what he’s getting into. But the words stick in my throat like tar.

“Got any threes?” Gavin asks, pulling me back to the present.

“Go fish.” I adjust my cards, studying them without really seeing them. Matt still feels too real, too dangerous. Even here, his shadow looms.

“Your turn,” he prompts gently.

“Oh, right. Um, got any kings?”

“Here you go.” He hands over two cards.

We play several rounds, and I actually start having fun despite my churning thoughts. Gavin keeps up a steady stream of terrible fish puns that have me groaning and laughing despite myself.

“I’m not doing this just for the halibut,” he says with a straight face as he asks for queens.

“That was awful,” I tell him, but I’m smiling.

“You mean it was o-fish-ally terrible?”

“Stop!” I throw a napkin at him, laughing.

The easy banter helps, but I can’t shake the growing urge to get back to Sophie. It’s not that I don’t trust Ms. Lucy, she’s been amazing with Sophie, but after thinking about Matt, my protective instincts are in overdrive.

I glance at my phone. It’s not even that late, but anxiety crawls up my spine like tiny spiders.

Gavin notices my distraction. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” I twist the napkin in my hands. “I should probably head home soon. Sophie…”

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