Sunday Sundaes

by Coco Simon

  The three of us squealed and hugged. “Awesome!” I cried. Then I ran and gave Mom a hug.

  “I need to talk to your parents first, though.”

  Tamiko, Sierra, and I squeezed one another’s hands. This could be great! We’d all be together every Sunday. We’d be having fun, plus we’d be making money, too! What could be better than that? Things were finally starting to look up for me. Suddenly life seemed as sweet as a chocolate cone again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BOOK REVIEW

  Colin was grinning as I joined him on the bus the next morning. I had to admit, I was pretty wiped out from being on my feet all day the day before. I couldn’t believe my mom had to get up and do it all over again, but she was so excited that she didn’t even mind.

  Colin held up his hand for a high five, and I smacked it. “Awesome opening!” he crowed.

  “Thanks,” I said. “The whole day was a whirlwind.”

  “The store is going to be a huge success. I want to do an article about it in the school paper, with a photo of you at the store. I’m pitching the story at the editorial meeting today.”

  “Wow! Cool! Thank you!” I said, beaming. That kind of publicity would sure help bring kids into the store.

  “The flavors are awesome,” said Colin. “I loved the Lemon Blueberry that I got, but there are so many more I’d like to try.”

  I smiled. “It’s funny you should say that. I’ve noticed that certain kinds of people just get excited and go for it. They want to experiment and try everything. Other people get overwhelmed with the choices and end up kind of copping out and picking something really basic.”

  “They don’t know what they’re missing!” agreed Colin.

  I decided to share an idea I’d had the night before while I’d been reading before I went to sleep. “I was thinking, it would be cool to have a little question ready for people, to help loosen them up when they’re having trouble ordering. Like, ‘Who’s your favorite fictional character?’ And then I could suggest something based on that!”

  Colin laughed. “That’s an icebreaker, for sure. So if I said ‘Harry Potter,’ you’d say?”

  I scoffed. “Too easy! Butterscotch Chocolate Chunk, of course. Try someone harder.” I laughed.

  As Colin thought, suddenly the word “Molly’s” caught my ear from somewhere in the bus. It was the Mean Team, seated a row ahead of us across the aisle. Colin and I exchanged a glance and listened in.

  “It’s the hot new thing,” one of them was saying. “It’s going to be the new hangout, for sure.”

  “Everyone’s talking about it today, but I’ve known about it for a while. I didn’t have time to get there yesterday, but I’m going as soon as possible. I want to get some pics on my feed.”

  “All you care about is social media, Blair! I just want to try the flavors. I looked at the menu online, and they look delicious.”

  “Well, I heard the founder is a rock-star chef from New York City.”

  “No, I heard she’s from Paris,” cut in Palmer.

  I shook my head slightly and giggled as I looked at Colin. He just raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

  At lunch I sat with Colin, Amanda, and Eloise, and they were all raving about the store. Colin said he’d gotten the green light to do the article and wanted to start right away, so I texted my mom to see if it was okay for me to be interviewed. She agreed, reminding me to make sure I emphasized that everyone was welcome, there was something for everyone, and that everything was made from handwritten family recipes—all-natural and no preservatives.

  Colin asked me a lot of questions about the store; how my mom gets her ice cream flavor ideas (One time—for her Cereal Milk flavor—it was from me and Tanner drinking the milk from our fruit-flavored cereal. Another was from a dessert from France she read about where a chef paired strawberries with balsamic vinegar.); and what had inspired the store’s design. I mentioned that my mom used to be a financial officer. Colin stopped me. “Really?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “At my dad’s company. Then they decided to get divorced, and she wanted to try something she had always wanted to do.”

  “That’s really cool,” said Colin. “I mean, not the divorce part.”

  “No,” I said. Things had been so busy, I hadn’t thought too much about the divorce. We were all just kind of living life like it was the new normal, after all.

  “Divorce is hard,” said Colin, looking down. “My parents got divorced a long time ago, but it’s still tricky.”

  “ ‘Tricky’ is a good word for it,” I said. Suddenly I wanted to ask Colin a lot of questions. “It just happened right before school started.”

  “Oh, wow, so that’s why you’re in a new school?” asked Colin. I nodded. “Well, let me know if you want to talk about it. Right now, though, I have to get this interview done.”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  He grinned. “Okay, so is the intent of your mom’s place to give the kids a hangout after school? Is she trying to make it a social spot?” I thought about that for a second, especially after hearing the Mean Team talk about it.

  “I think the intent is to sell really yummy ice cream,” I said, thinking of my mom. “But it’s definitely going to be the after-school social spot. And the best part is, everyone is invited.” I thought of the Mean Team.

  I guess it was unavoidable that I would have to deal with the mean girls at the shop sooner or later. That afternoon, after school, I walked straight to Molly’s when I got off the bus. My mom was working—tired but happy—and there was a small but steady trickle of customers, just enough for one person to handle.

  I checked in on my group chat with Tamiko and Sierra, as we had been doing every day after school at this time, but they didn’t reply. I felt a little pang, but I didn’t freak all the way out. I did some homework for a bit, but I was restless, so I made myself a small scoop of Banana Pudding ice cream in a cup and sat down to cast a critical eye around the shop. What did it look like to strangers? People who didn’t know my mom or have the same taste as her? Was it welcoming? Appealing?

  As I let the cool banana cream slide down my throat and I chewed on the salty-sweet Nilla wafers that were chunked through it, I decided the store was objectively beautiful and welcoming but maybe a little cold. It needed a tiny bit more personality to show through. I eyed an empty built-in bookshelf to the side of the window counter, and the wheels started spinning in my head.

  “Hey, Mom?” I said during the next lull. “What if I brought in some books—some picture books, and kids’ novels, and maybe a couple of books for grown-ups—and filled the bookshelf over there with them? People could borrow books or just look at them or read them while they’re eating their ice cream.”

  My mom looked at the shelf with her head tipped to the side. “I had originally been thinking of doing jars of colorful lollipops there for display, but we could try books,” she said. “Actually, I really love that idea, Allie. It would make the store more . . .”

  “Homey!” I said, smiling.

  “Yes!” she said.

  I couldn’t wait to curate the shelf with a selection of books I thought would appeal to customers—I might even try to look for books with ice cream themes. Maybe I’d even have a chance to make book recommendations as I served ice cream!

  I was picking up my cup and used napkins when the bell above the door jingled. I turned, and there was the Mean Team.

  My stomach dropped. On some level I’d known they were coming and that it would likely be soon, but it had seemed sort of unreal, like a distant possibility.

  They looked at me and were also shocked, I think. Blair’s eyes widened and then narrowed, seeing me in my apron, and Maria glanced at me and gave a half smile. Palmer kind of waved, but it was so fake, she could have been waving at her own reflection in the mirror behind me.

  As they walked toward the freezer cases, the bell jingled again and lots of customers—little kids with parents, other midd
le school kids, a landscaping crew—all poured in at once.

  “Allie! I need you!” called my mom.

  “On it!” I said, and I turned my back to the Mean Team and went to wash up. I spun around to help the first customer, and it was Blair. Her eyes widened. “You work here?” she said.

  “Yes,” I said, smiling tightly. “Actually, my mother owns the store.”

  She raised her eyebrows and looked at the other mean girls. “Okay. I’ll have a Lemon Blueberry scoop and a Balsamic Strawberry scoop in a cup. Not too big.”

  Please, I corrected her in my mind automatically, then turned to prepare her order. I could see in the mirror to my right that they were having a silent conversation with gestures and facial expressions, but when I turned to present the ice cream to Blair, they all acted natural.

  She looked at the cup in her hand. “You didn’t spit in it, did you?”

  I was shocked. “What?!”

  The other girls looked uncomfortable, but Blair looked at me again. “Did you spit in my ice cream?”

  “Blair, come on,” said Palmer. “She’s just kidding,” she said to me nervously.

  I saw my mom glance over to see what was going on, but I didn’t meet her eye. I stared levelly at Blair.

  “I would never do anything to an ice cream except make it as delicious as humanly possible,” I said in my calmest voice. “This is my family’s store, and my great-grandmother’s name is on the door. Anyway, who would spit in someone’s ice cream?”

  Maria tittered. “Blair would!”

  I looked at Maria carefully. “Maybe you need a new friend, then.”

  Blair scoffed. “I was only kidding. And I wouldn’t spit in someone’s ice cream, anyway, Maria. Thanks a lot. How much do I owe you?” She smiled at me, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. I could tell she was embarrassed.

  “It’s on the house,” I said, thinking of the phrase “kill them with kindness.” It was one of my dad’s favorites. “What can I get you two?” I turned my full attention to Maria and Palmer, as if Blair didn’t exist.

  “No, I’m happy to pay,” Blair protested, but I waved my hand without even looking at her.

  “It’s a write-off. A marketing expense.” I’d heard my mom say that about free samples, and I felt super-sophisticated saying it, like a real businesswoman.

  “Okay, thanks?” said Blair skeptically. I could tell she wondered why I would do something nice for her when she’d been so mean to me, but I had to think about what was good for Molly’s.

  Palmer was all charm now. “Could I please try the Banana Pudding in a sugar cone? It sounds delicious!”

  “It’s my favorite flavor of the day,” I said, acting cheerful.

  “Is there a tip jar?” asked Blair, waving a five-dollar bill at me.

  All I needed was a tip from Blair. “No. But thanks anyway.” We hadn’t done that yet; my mom wasn’t sure she liked the idea.

  I presented Palmer with her order and asked Maria what she wanted. “I don’t know. I can’t decide. Maybe I’ll just have vanilla.”

  As I’d been telling Colin, I really felt bad when people didn’t go for something interesting at our store. It wasn’t that our basic flavors weren’t good; they were delicious. It was just that it usually seemed like a person picked them because the person was intimidated or uncreative, either of which could have been the case here. It was time to try my idea.

  “Okay, wait. I’m going to help you pick a more interesting flavor by giving you our ice cream personality test. Who’s your favorite character, from a book or movie?”

  “What?” Maria was confused.

  “Just work with me. Who?”

  Blair and Palmer exchanged a giggle.

  But Maria rose to the challenge. “Um, I guess Harriet the Spy?”

  “Harriet? Seriously, Maria?” Blair laughed. Maria’s face was red, but she stood her ground.

  “Yes. It was my favorite book when I was little.”

  “And it’s a great one,” I agreed. “Okay, Harriet loved tomato sandwiches. We haven’t made tomato ice cream yet, but another thing Harriet loved was cake and milk, every day after school, right?”

  Maria’s eyes lit up. “Yes! At three forty every day!”

  “Yes. So why don’t you channel Harriet and try our Devil’s Food flavor? It’s a plain cream base with chunks of double-chocolate cake in it—cake and milk, get it?”

  “Okay!” said Maria. I could tell she was glad to be guided into a more interesting choice, and I was proud that my strategy had worked the first time, and on an enemy, no less!

  “And I think you should drink it, in honor of Harriet. A Devil’s Food milkshake, with one of our extra-wide straws, coming up.”

  “Perfect.” Maria’s eyes shone with satisfaction, and when I presented the shake to her and she sipped it, she closed her eyes and hummed with happiness. “This is so good!” she said.

  “And so is Harriet the Spy,” I said. “One of my faves.”

  Once they all had their ice cream, Blair turned to me.

  “Bye, Allie,” she said, and they all left.

  “Bye. Thanks for coming in,” I said with a wave. I turned to my next customer, my heart pounding in my chest.

  I couldn’t believe I’d just had the courage to stand up to a bully! Not only that, I’d definitely won that round. What’s more, my new ice cream recommendation strategy had worked! And the funny thing was, the first person I wanted to tell about it was Colin.

  That night my mom came into my room for a chat. She wanted to know what had happened with the girls at the store—she’d sensed something was amiss, but she’d been too busy to come over and check in. When I told her how I’d handled it, she scooped me up into a huge hug.

  “Allie Shear, you’re the best!”

  “Mmmsh!” I said, my voice muffled in her shoulder. Maybe it was babyish to like a hug from your mom, but this one felt extra good.

  She let me go and smiled at me, and her eyes were a bit moist. “Dad and I have really put you kids through a lot, and you’ve both handled it so well. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Mama. I’m proud of you, too.”

  “And I just wanted to let you know, I’ve run the numbers, and I think it would be a great thing if you and Tamiko and Sierra came to work with me at the shop.”

  “Mom!” I dive-bombed her with another hug.

  “Okay, but hang on,” she said, holding me off at arm’s length. “I need to discuss this with Tamiko’s and Sierra’s parents. It’s on a trial basis. I need to see that you girls are taking it seriously, and I will pay you. If it works, you can come every Sunday. That way you can help me out and learn some responsibility in a job, but you can also see your friends.”

  “Thank you, Mom. We’re going to do a great job! And look—” I gestured to the milk crate of books I’d pulled from our collection to put on the shelf at the store. “Those are for our customers. Maybe you can bring them tomorrow in your car, and I’ll arrange them when I get there after school.”

  She ruffled my hair. “Perfect. Thanks, sweetheart. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Mama.”

  As soon as she left the room, I lunged off my bed for my phone and texted Tamiko and Sierra. I still hadn’t heard from them since our after-school check-in time. Where were they?

  CHAPTER NINE

  A TASTE OF RESPONSIBILITY

  When I woke up the next morning and still hadn’t heard from Tamiko and Sierra, I was upset. I turned my phone on and off. Still nothing. I didn’t want to get crazy, but I started to feel forgotten. As I waited for the bus, I called Tamiko’s phone, and she finally picked up.

  “Ali-baba!” she cried.

  “Where have you guys been?” I asked.

  “Oh, Sierra totally dropped the ball on the Book Fest plans, unsurprisingly, so she roped me and MacKenzie into bailing her out. We were at MacKenzie’s until so late last night, I barely had time to get my homework done. I’m sorry I didn’t
reply yet about the store. That’s great news. We do have a Book Fest meeting on Sunday, but it should be fine. I don’t think it will run too long.”

  I stared at the phone in my hand, unable to comprehend what was happening, on so many levels. Sierra had gotten Tamiko to work on the Book Fest? I’d tried for two years to get her involved, and she wouldn’t budge, saying she didn’t like books and wanted to save the trees they were printed on. And why had they all been at MacKenzie’s? Shouldn’t they have worked on it at school, with Mrs. Olson?

  My stomach churned and my jaw clenched as the bus rolled up. I didn’t even know what to say to Tamiko, so instead I just said, “What? I can’t hear you! Bad connection,” and hung up, my hands shaking.

  I trudged up the bus steps, and as soon as I hit the aisle, I heard someone calling my name.

  “Allie! Over here!”

  “Allie!”

  It was the Mean Team, waving me over to join them.

  Just behind them, across the aisle, was Colin, smiling and waving.

  As I drew near the mean girls, Blair patted the seat next to her, smiling. “Come. Right here.”

  Still angry from my phone call with Tamiko, I was in no mood to play nice. I smiled a tight smile and shook my head. “I’m sitting with my friend Colin over there. He’s right past the pool,” I said, and kept walking. I wondered if they remembered the pool prank they’d played on me the first day.

  The girls were silent as I joined Colin. They remembered.

  “Hey,” I said, settling in.

  “Hey,” he said. “I don’t mind if you sit with them.”

  I sighed. “Thanks. I’d rather start my day off with someone nice.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. But it might not be a bad strategy to sit with them sometimes, you know? Like, keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer?”

  We laughed. “Thanks,” I said. “But not today, that’s for sure. Today I kind of just want things to be normal, not different.”

  I was really upset about Tamiko and MacKenzie and Book Fest, but before I knew it, it was almost Sunday again and time to have my first official afternoon as an employee of Molly’s, with Tamiko and Sierra. On Saturday night, we had a check-in by phone.