Page 4 of Scoop Me Up
She scoffed. “You know better than that. She’s in bed by eight or she’s a monster the next day.”
With a sigh, I conceded that she was right, taking a seat on the couch as I did. “I know, I know. I was just hoping. So you wanted to talk about next week?”
“You’re still coming, right?”
Jennifer was planning to travel around Europe with her boyfriend for the whole summer, giving me the opportunity to offer to house sit and hang out with Ellie instead of them dragging her across the Atlantic for six weeks, especially considering that Ellie was enrolled in summer school to improve her reading skills. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
She exhaled sharply in relief. “Good. I was starting to worry you’d be too busy at work to make it happen.”
It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d bailed on Jennifer and Ellie because I had to work. In fact, it had been one of the leading causes of our divorce. “I promise, I won’t let that happen again.”
“Okay. Because you know I don’t mind taking her, but I need to know now if you’re going to back out.”
I let out a soft sigh. “Jen. It’ll be okay. I’ll be there. I promise.”
She hesitated for a moment. “Thanks, Gabe. It means a lot, seeing how much you’ve changed since…”
A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t regret our divorce—it was the right thing forbothof us—but I regretted so much that had led to it. “I appreciate that.”
We chatted for a few more minutes before we said our goodbyes and hung up. As I went to bed that night, my mind swirled with thoughts about the interview, the job, Ellie, my summer plans, and work.
Chapter 3
Sam
I peered inside the cooler one last time before nodding in satisfaction. My two gallons of ice cream fit nicely and I poured ice around them. Once it was securely shut, I closed my hatchback and made my way around the car, sliding onto the driver’s seat. I didn’t live far from the town square, but it was too far to haul my ice cream by hand, so I buckled in and started the car.
I drove carefully, observing the town’s speed limit so as not to catch the attention of Maplewood’s finest. It would look bad for an elementary school teacher to get a speeding ticket, even an off-duty teacher. It wasn’t long until I turned onto Main Street and slowed further until I found a parking spot close to where the festival organizers were setting up.
The moment I parked, I spotted Cooper putting a canopy up in his booth space, where he’d be selling his themed artwork during the festival. He caught sight of me quickly.
“Hey! It’s the winner of this year’s ice cream flavor competition, in the flesh.” Cooper stood straighter and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand. “Don’t jinx it.”
“This isyour year. I can feel it.”
“What makes you say that?”
Cooper shrugged. “I mean, you win practically every year. You’re going to win this time. And then they’ll crown you the festival’s champion, again, and every restaurant in town will be begging you for exclusive distribution rights, as usual. You’ll be able to quit teaching and finally open the ice cream shop of your dreams.”
For a second, I just stood there processing what he’d said, letting myself daydream about actually opening the ice cream shop, just like my grandma always wanted. I shook my head, clearing the thoughts away. Ilikedteaching. Itwouldbe amazing to finally hit my goal though… “Don’t jinx it,” I repeated.
Cooper just gave me a little smile, the kind that told me he knew exactly what was going through my mind. “Right. Don’t jinx it.” He turned to wrestle a table into place. “Now, don’t just stand there. Give me a hand.” Once Cooper’s table was set up, I helped him put out the artwork he sold at events. “So you went with the tamarind one, right? I’m telling you, it’s a winner.”
“I just hope the judges agree, you know?”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “I know.” We finished setting up his table, joking and chatting the whole time. Once the table was done, Cooper stepped back to admire our handiwork. “Thanks for the help, but shouldn’t you be getting that ice cream somewhere?”
“It’s on plenty of ice, but it probably won’t hurt to get it into storage before the contest.” I glanced at my watch. “I’ve still got an hour before the contest.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t jinx it.”
Cooper mimicked zipping his mouth shut. “No jinxing here.”
I grinned. “Thanks.” A few moments later, I was back at the car, wrestling the cooler out of the hatch. I wheeled it to the community center building nearby where we’d been told to store the ice cream until it was time for the competition to start. The building was decked out in American flags and everything red, white, and blue, in honor of Independence Day. Every year on the Fourth of July, Maplewood held an ice cream festival, a way to beat—or celebrate, depending on who you asked—the summer heat.
As I stepped inside, my ears were bombarded by pop music and a loud voice calling instructions over the music. “That’s it, girls! No, Dee, turn left.Left.”
Why yes,I thought,thatisa troupe of drag queens practicing their routine. Maplewood was a queer haven and I couldn’t have been more grateful for my hometown. Pride had been the month before, but then again, Pride was every day when you lived in Maplewood. It was nice, being surrounded by a community that was not just tolerant but who wholeheartedly embraced you for who you were.
