Lemon's Sorbet Disaster: An Ice Cream Shop Series Novella

by E. H. Demeter

  I rubbed my hands over my face once more. Returning the glasses to my face, I rolled to my side and grabbed my phone, pressing the speed dial for my mother.

  “Lemon! Darling! How are you? What do you think of Haven?” My mother’s voice was warm and welcoming. How I missed her already.

  “Mom, I think your lawyer left something out at the will reading.” I didn’t bother beating around the bush. I craved her advice.

  There was a brief silence, and a soft rustling before she responded. “What do you mean, honey?”

  “I just met with Uncle Beau’s lawyer here. He didn’t just leave me Sweet Rose Creamery, mom, he left me his house and ‘other properties.’ What was he thinking? Was he losing his mind in the end?”

  Again, I heard shuffling, as if she were adjusting the phone. I had a mental image of her shifting in her chair, pulling at the perpetually twisted phone cord as she tried to get more space. Why they didn’t just get a cordless phone and enter the twenty first century, I would never know. Mom claimed she liked landlines.

  “No, sweetie. He wasn’t losing his mind. As far as I know, he was very clear headed up until…” Her voice broke, and I kicked myself for being so callous.

  “Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t... I know how much you miss him. It’s just all… So much. I can’t figure out why he left all of this to me.”

  “Because he loved you, sweetie.” Her tone was matter of fact, and she sniffled once before clearing her throat. “Now, tell me about your first day. Are you liking it?”

  I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Her topic change meant that any further discussion of the matter was null and void. “Yeah, I mean, it’s okay. Ungodly hot, but the Inn I’m staying in is nice. The whole town is almost too adorable, actually, like something out of a story book. And I drove out to the ice cream shop today, too. It’s a mess, mom. I don’t know how it hasn’t been shut down… Oh! And there was this guy there!”

  We talked for an hour, about the repairs the shop would need and my run in with Wade Tucker. Mom didn’t recognize the name but told me to ask the Fitzgeralds. I promised her I would, though I didn’t promise her when I would. I needed to think more about how this was all going to play out.

  As frustrating as our first meeting had been, Wade obviously knew what he was doing with the shop. Maybe not in terms of cleaning it but managing it. A huge yawn overtook me, and I rolled onto my side, setting my glasses on a bedside table as I snagged a pillow and stared at the dying light outside my window. Tomorrow, I would ask to borrow the car and drive by the shop again. I wanted to see it during business hours, to observe its operations.

  Closing my eyes, I released the breath that I’d been holding. Tomorrow would bring some answers to the mysteries surrounding me. Hopefully.

  *****

  The following days were spent with research. At first, I felt bad, constantly hounding the Fitzgeralds for information, but the two quickly jumped on board with the project.

  “We just redid this whole place, remember?” Carol reminded me over breakfast. “We would love to make suggestions on who to call!”

  “Well, it’s going to need a serious clean, both inside and out. And new paint, probably all new furniture, shelves, coolers…” I pressed a hand to my stomach as a wave of nausea washed over me at the thought of how much this was all going to cost.

  Carol reached across the table, giving my hand a squeeze. “Don’t fret, honey. I know it’s a lot all at once. But you know how to eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”

  It was odd, how her words stuck with me. After collecting all of the phone numbers I would need, I disappeared to the library, computer in hand.

  By the end of the day, I felt like I had called the whole of Haven. But I had managed to secure a consultation with the owner of Mcallister’s Construction the following week.

  Progress.

  Rubbing at the back of my neck, I rose from the chair and stretched out the kinks that had formed during my hours of sitting. I knew better than to go so long without stretching. The rumble of my stomach and a glance at my watch told me it was long past time to eat. Blowing out a breath, I gathered up my things and headed up to my room. I wasn’t sure what the Fitzgeralds were offering for dinner, but I had an urge to go out and be around people.

  Dinner plans decided, I took a quick shower, dressed, and went to find Carol to once more ask about use of her car. I would need to look into my own transportation soon, as I didn’t want to keep bothering her.

  After a much longer conversation about the best restaurant to go to, the decision was made that I would go to the Blue Ribbon Bar and Grill. Directions were given, made sure they were understood, and I was off.

  I chuckled to myself as I stepped outside the inn, thankful for the balmy evening. If it was going to remain as warm as it had been of late, I would need to go shopping for more summer wear.

  The drive to the Grill was pleasant, with light traffic and good music on the radio. The irony that the only two stations to come in loud and clear were country and Christian didn’t pass me by.

  I turned into the parking lot of the cutest restaurant I think I had ever seen. The building looked as if it had once been two that were smooshed together, the section on the left shorter than that on the right. Probably an original building with an add on. Dark wood siding covered the walls, increasing the country feel to the place. A blue balcony wrapped around the top of the right building, shading a seating section below it with a few scattered tables and chairs. It looked like something vaguely out of an old Western, but more modernized. A bright blue door stood open, welcoming diners.

  Grabbing my purse, I climbed from the car and made my way inside. Country music filled the air from a jukebox against the far right wall. Tables filled the space nicely, cozy, while still leaving plenty of space for movement. A long wooden bar took up most of the wall directly in front of me, and I noted the bathrooms were tucked into the back corner. A set of stairs sat to the left of the bar, leading to the second story.

  “Welcome to the Blue Ribbon! Just grab a seat anywhere!”

  I blinked, jerking my head toward the voice and offering a smile as I moved toward one of the tables. I had expected them to busier, though I was a bit early for a standard dinner rush. I picked a table at random, lowering down into a chair and setting my purse on the one next to me. A pretty brunette woman came toward me, a notepad in her hand, brown eyes filled with warmth.

  “Hiya, darlin’. What can I start ya off with tonight?”

  I blinked, my hand shooting out as I reached for the laminated menu propped up by the napkin container, managing to hit it at a glancing angle and shoot it off the table.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry!” My hands flew to my lips in horror, but the woman only chuckled, bending down to retrieve the menu.

  “Hey, it’s no problem.” Her smile seemed wider somehow as she passed me the menu. “You seem a bit skittish, how about something to drink to knock the edge off? We’ve got a fully stocked bar...” She twisted at the waist, using her thumb to indicate the bar.

  As if you could miss it. The large wooden bar was obviously well loved, the warm toned wood seeming to shine under the rustic lamps hanging from the ceiling.

  “Oh, I… I don’t drink. Do you, um… Do you have lemonade?”

  The woman chuckled again, the sound warm and friendly. It was almost enough to set me at ease. “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

  I shook my head, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Most folk who come in here already know what they want when they leave their house. Plus, I’ve never seen you before.” She smiled, setting the menu on the table in front of me. “I’m Ellie Webb, if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll go get that lemonade.”

  I covered my face with my hands, blowing out a breath. Today was getting to me more than I had thought. Lowering my hands, I looked over the menu, praying for peace. It was pretty standard fare: burgers, sandwiche
s, gumbo… And something called a cowboy steak, which intrigued me, but I knew I would never be able to finish on my own. Ellie came back, setting a tall glass of lemonade in front of me and pulling out her notebook once more.

  “You know what you want, hun?” she asked, cocking her hip out to one side, pen poised to take my order. When I hesitated, she leaned over and tapped the menu. “I recommend the Blue Ribbon Burger. Hard to go wrong with a burger that’s won awards.”

  I nodded, smiling at her, feeling my shoulders relax. “Well, you’ve sold me on it. A burger sounds great. Thank you.” We shared a smile, and then she was off. I watched her walk toward the kitchen before I looked around. The place was homey, the music filling the space nicely, and I could easily imagine the place full of loud diners, arguing over a game of darts or football.

  My tension eased further as I bounced my foot to the music. I recognized the song playing, but not enough to remember the name of it. More and more people came in as the night moved on, and I settled back to do some people watching. Ellie brought me my burger, and, after just one bite, I had to admit it was the most delicious burger I’d ever tasted.

  As I munched on my burger, I wished that I had thought to bring a book with me. I pulled up my phone, intending to browse the online bookstore when a familiar figure walked past my table. I watched him as he made his way confidently toward the bar. He was obviously a regular, by the way he greeted the staff. Tilting my head, I observed him, marveling at how different he seemed from the man I had met a few days ago. So intrigued by him was I, that I missed Ellie coming back to my table.

  “You okay, darlin’?”

  I jumped, my cheeks heating at being caught staring. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

  Ellie chuckled. “How was the burger?”

  “It was delicious! Thank you for suggesting it. Though I think I’m going to need a to go box. It was bigger than I was expecting.”

  Ellie smiled, leaning toward me and lowering her voice. “I can bring you a box for the burger, but I hate to tell you, the man won’t fit in it.”

  I blushed deeper, feeling my eyes go wide. “What? No, no, no, no, no. I don’t… Not with him.” I immediately regretted my words when I saw Ellie’s brows raise. The tell-tale look of ‘why not him?’ Blowing out a breath and closing my eyes, I held up a hand. “We ran into one another earlier, and it did not go well.”

  Ellie pulled out a chair, lowering into it and folding her arms on the table. “Ran into him where? I assumed you were just passing through.”

  I shook my head. “Sweet Rose Creamery? It belonged to my Uncle Beau, and when he… When he passed, he left it to me.”

  I pressed my lips together, swallowing as I dropped my gaze to my plate. It felt weird to say it out loud. He was gone. Really gone. I would never get another letter. Never have another phone call. Unbidden tears blurred my vision, and I sniffled and tried to wipe at my cheeks without drawing too much attention.

  “What’s your name, hun?”

  “Lemon Wilder.”

  Ellie smiled, reached across the table, and gently placed her hand over mine. “Well, Lemon. I knew your uncle, and he was a good man. Something tells me he’d be really happy that you’re here.” She looked over her shoulder before bringing her gaze back to mine. “And don’t let Wade get to you too much. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he’s got a good heart.”

  I lifted my brows, clearly not believing her, but not wanting to argue with her either. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  She patted my hand, rising from the table and pushing her chair in. “I’ll get your bill and that box.”

  I looked past her toward Wade once again, torn between my own impressions and the words of a stranger.

  Chapter Four

  I put off going by the house for as long as I could before I realized I was being idiotic. I had holed myself up in the room, throwing myself into work and chatting with my friends from back home. But I knew I needed to suck it up and face reality. And I needed to keep my meeting with the contractor.

  Once again, I tracked Carol down to ask to borrow her car. I had looked up a few local listings for reasonably priced vehicles and planned to go check them out after I met with the contractor. It was past time for me to get my own mode of transportation.

  I had also spent the morning researching how to run an ice cream shop and had even signed up for a few online classes. If I had to be here for a year, I was going to turn this shop into the best ice cream parlor Haven had ever seen. Even if it was the only ice cream parlor in the small town.

  I felt as if I held my breath the entire way down the long driveway. It was pitted and full of holes that needed to be filled, something I tucked away for later. The faded yellow plantation style house drew a soft gasp from me. It was exactly as I remembered. Tall, round white columns stretched from the wide porch to the second floor balcony above. The front door was a faded blue, as if everything about the home had faded once Beau was no longer on this earth.

  Swallowing deeply, I turned off the car and climbed from it, looking up at the home. Two live oaks framed the front, their thick limbs offering shade. I rolled my thumb over the key, my heart pounding in my chest. Just go inside, Lemon. It’s yours now.

  Shaking my head slightly, I sniffled and closed the car door behind me. My sneakers crunched over the gravel of the front drive. The wooden steps creaked beneath my weight. Two sun worn rockers sat on the porch, a gossamer spider’s web strung between them. An odd reminder that even when it feels as if everything has stopped, life still goes on.

  Blowing out a breath, I slipped the key in the lock and stepped inside. It was just as I remembered. The front door opened to a hallway leading to the back of the house, the stairway to the upper floor. To the right was the formal living room, and to the left sat the dining room and kitchen. Stepping into the living room, my breath hitched in my chest. A large painting of my Uncle Beau stood above the brick fireplace, his wide smile warming my heart. Shoes squeaking against the wooden floor, I crossed the room and stepped into the covered porch.

  Wilted plants begged for attention, and I automatically began looking for a watering can. Faint memories pulled at the edges of my mind, begging me to remember. Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I moved back through the living room and headed upstairs.

  It was as if all the air had been pulled from my lungs. Pictures lined the stairway: my mother at various ages, my grandmother and cousins, even pictures of me. I trailed my fingers over the dusty glass of a broadly smiling Beau, a tray full of cups of ice cream in his hand, the blurred heads of children in the foreground.

  I walked through the other rooms, memories guiding me. I studiously avoided going into Beau’s room. Someone had come through and covered up the furniture, but I wasn’t ready to go through his things. The house didn’t feel like mine. Everything in it was his. Eventually, I would have to see it all sorted. But not today.

  Stepping out of the house, I locked the door and slid the key into my purse. The sound of tires on gravel had my brows pulling together as I looked out toward the road. A white truck pulled up beside Carol’s car, dust kicking up behind it. My heart sank as I recognized the blond head that emerged.

  Oh, great.

  Forcing a smile to my face, I lifted a hand in greeting as I descended the porch. “Mr. Tucker, what brings you out here?”

  The sound of the truck door closing echoed in the otherwise quiet morning air. Wade looked around before his eyes met mine. Backlit by the sun, I was forced to press my hand to my brow to keep my gaze on his. My brows lifted as he shook his head and strode toward me.

  “I live here,” he snapped.

  Shock and surprise rushed through me. “You live here?” I gestured to the house behind me.

  “What? No. I live in the guest house.” Wade frowned, his eyes moving over me, as if judging me. Despite my t-shirt and jeans, I suddenly felt naked in front of him.

  “Oh, I… I didn’t know.”

/>   “Guess ol’ Jim forgot to mention to that, huh?”

  I paused, confused. “Jim? You mean James, the lawyer?”

  “You mean his legal name isn’t Jimbo?” Wade snarked, his hand coming to his chest in mock shock.

  I felt my jaw clench at the sarcasm in his tone, my chin jutting upward. “Yes, that does seem to have slipped his mind. But I also haven’t had a chance to read over everything he gave me.”

  “Beau left me the guest house. I have a copy of the will if you need proof.”

  I stared at him, lowering my hand. “I’m not saying he didn’t, Mr. Tucker. Just that I simply hadn’t been made aware of it. However, things have been moving rather quickly…” I shook my head and forced another smile. “I’m sure the property is large enough that we won’t be on top of one another.”

  Wade’s brow shot upward. “On top of one another?”

  I nodded. “When I move in. It wasn’t the original plan, but now that I know the house is here, there’s really no need for me to stay in the Inn for the year...”

  It seemed as if his brows were stuck; I didn’t think they could go up any higher. Once again, I felt his eyes move over me. Weighing me, judging me. Shaking his head, he let go a derisive chuckle. “You living here? You don’t know how to keep a place like this running.”

  My head jerked back as if I’d been slapped. Just who does this guy think he is? Folding my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Excuse me, but how do you know what I am capable of?”

  “Call it intuition. You’d be better off at the Inn; this place is too much for a city girl like you.”

  Before I could form a reply, he turned and strode toward his truck, not even bothering to look back at me. I felt like a fish out of water, gasping for breath as I struggled to come up with a rebuttal. All of my other experiences with the people of Haven had left me vastly unprepared for dealing with Wade Tucker. The man was crass and rude. And I decided right then and there that I would never like him.