My Cone and Only

by Susannah Nix

  “Honey Bunny?” I echoed. “So they were already engaged when he was writing these letters?”

  “Probably. They were at least going steady, even if he hadn’t put the ring on her finger yet.” She patted her chest again as she went back to reading. “My word. These are expressive.”

  “But they broke up,” I said. “The last letter is a goodbye letter because she’d broken up with him.”

  “Clearly it didn’t take. Thank goodness for that, or neither of us would be here right now.”

  “He was so devastated.”

  Birdie nodded, seemingly unfazed. “He would be, wouldn’t he? I wonder what he did to make her break up with him that time.”

  I blinked at her. “That time?”

  “Oh yes. They had their share of ups and downs. Daddy spent a month sleeping on his friend’s couch when I was in grade school. And a few weeks living out of the Holiday Inn a few years later when Momma kicked him out again.” Birdie smiled to herself. “Your pawpaw wasn’t always an easy man to live with. And your meemaw wasn’t always a forgiving woman.”

  “I thought their relationship was perfect.”

  Birdie gave me a pitying look. “Oh honey, no relationship is perfect. Do you know how many breakup cakes I’ve made over the years? And fully half of those people ended up getting right back together. Look at Josh and Mia. I made him a breakup cake last year, and now they’re as happy as two toads in a puddle.”

  “Maybe it’s the cake,” Mia said, smiling around a mouthful of chocolate. “Maybe it’s actually good luck. Or maybe the secret ingredient is some kind of love potion.”

  “Maybe.” Birdie said with a cryptic smile. “But I like to think if two people are meant to be together, they’ll always find a way back to each other.”

  This, from my proudly single aunt who’d once jilted a man at the altar and run off to follow the Lilith Fair tour around the country. The woman who triumphantly delivered a breakup cake to every newly broken heart in town. I’d never imagined she was such a romantic.

  “Wait,” Mia said, frowning at Birdie. “When you made Josh’s breakup cake last year, what did it say on top?”

  Birdie pressed her lips together and gave Mia’s shoulders a squeeze. “It doesn’t really matter, does it, honey? The cake worked its magic and everything turned out just fine.”

  30

  Andie

  “I’m still mad at you,” I said, glaring at my brother.

  Birdie had tricked me. She’d badgered me into coming with her to the King’s Creamery Centennial Festival today. To “cheer me up” she’d claimed. We’d ride some rides, take in the entertainment, and eat our weight in ice cream.

  Except it was obvious now the whole excursion had been a setup to effect a reconciliation between me and my brother. We hadn’t been here more than half an hour before we’d “accidentally” bumped into him and Mia as we were exiting the bumper boats.

  Josh ducked his head, hunching his shoulders forward as he frowned at his feet. “I figured you might be.”

  At least he had the decency to look shamefaced.

  I turned my glare on my treacherous aunt, who’d engineered this involuntary sibling reunion under fraudulent pretenses. I’d been bamboozled. Hoodwinked. By my sneaky, slippery, shifty aunt Birdie. Who was currently answering my glare with an extremely self-satisfied smile. I should have pushed her bumper boat under the waterfall when I’d had the chance.

  Mia jabbed Josh with her elbow. “What else do you have to say for yourself?”

  I transferred my glare from my aunt to my supposed friend, who’d clearly been in on the conspiracy as well. I was surrounded by deceivers at every turn.

  “I’m sorry,” Josh said, looking up at me again.

  I crossed my arms and met his sheepish gaze with a pitiless stare, determined not to make this easy for him. “For what, exactly?”

  He darted a nervous glance at Mia before answering. “I never should have interfered in your dating life. It’s none of my business who you want to go out with, and from now on I promise never to threaten or try to intimidate any of your potential suitors.”

  I scowled. “Your girlfriend told you to say all that.”

  “That’s true,” he admitted. “But I still mean every word. Mia made me see how I’ve been making your life harder by letting my overprotective instincts get the better of me. You’re not a kid anymore. You’re a grown adult capable of making your own choices and I should have respected that and trusted you to know your own mind.”

  “Thank you,” I said grudgingly. “I appreciate that you’re willing to admit when you’re wrong, which you are most all of the time. It must get exhausting for you being wrong so much.”

  Josh’s jaw clenched. “Next time I won’t try to stop you from making the bad choice to date a compulsive womanizer who throws women away like used napkins,” he said petulantly, earning another elbow jab from Mia. “Ow! Quit abusing me, woman.”

  I rolled my eyes at my brother’s stubbornness, but I couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at my lips. He might drive me up the wall, but I’d never been able to stay mad at him for long. He was the only brother I had, and I had too much affection for him—just like I had too much affection for my meddlesome aunt and interfering friend to hold a grudge for the trickery that had forced my brother and I to the peace table.

  When he caught sight of my smile, Josh stepped forward and folded me into a hug. “I really am sorry. But I hope you know it was all out of love.”

  I squirmed out of his embrace and gave him a playful shove. “I know that, you big dork.”

  “He’s also sorry for punching Wyatt,” Mia said.

  “I’m not,” Josh countered with a defiant jut of his chin. “That part I don’t regret. I still reserve the right to punch any man who makes my little sister cry.” He crossed his arms, leaning toward me as he added, “I’d be glad to punch him again if it will make you feel better. Just say the word.”

  Mia let out an exasperated huff. “There are better ways to resolve conflicts than with your fists, cowboy.”

  Josh’s mouth twitched into a mischievous grin. “Undoubtedly, but sometimes you just need the satisfaction that comes with a good face-punching.”

  Birdie threaded her arm through mine, looking pleased with herself. “Now that we’re all getting along again, I say we seal the deal with some ice cream.” Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at my brother. “Josh’s treat!”

  The suggestion was met with unanimous enthusiasm, and we headed over to the nearest ice cream stand to place our orders. My chest hurt a little as I eyed the flavors in the case and saw the Thar She Blows! bubblegum ice cream with sour gummy candy bits. My favorite flavor would forever remind me of Wyatt now, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to enjoy it again.

  Today marked a full week since our fight, and I still hadn’t heard a word from him. I could have reached out to him myself, but my pride wouldn’t let me. I wasn’t the one who’d had someone else’s tongue in my mouth. Wasn’t I entitled to some groveling after that? The fact that he wasn’t willing to put in the effort felt like a pretty clear sign that I’d been right all along. He’d never been all that invested in us being together in the first place.

  The thought depressed me, so I decided I needed chocolate and lots of it. As if I hadn’t gotten enough from Birdie’s breakup cake. There might not be enough chocolate in the world to soothe my aching heart, but that didn’t stop me from ordering myself two scoops of Double Double Fudge and Truffle.

  As I was enjoying my towering cone of chocolate ice cream swirled with a fudge ripple and chocolate truffle candy pieces, Birdie suggested we venture over to the temporary stage that had been erected to host the live entertainment all day. It was mostly magicians and jugglers and other family-friendly fare, but I wasn’t too old to appreciate a good magician or juggling act.

  At least I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about running into Wyatt as we wended our way through the amusement park. It
was why I’d let Birdie talk me into coming here today. I knew he wouldn’t be caught dead at King Town Park on any day, much less lending his presence to a special event like the Centennial Festival this weekend.

  The whole rest of his family was here though. I’d caught sight of Josie a couple of times already, rushing to and fro looking harried. And I’d seen Manny at the petting zoo earlier with his daughter, Isabella. Currently, the whole clan was gathered up onstage—minus Wyatt, of course—wearing matching T-shirts and providing a smiling backdrop as George King gave a speech.

  We found an empty spot on the grass, and sat down just as Wyatt’s dad was wrapping up his speech. There was a smattering of polite applause, but most of the people hanging out on the grass didn’t seem to be paying much attention. There were a lot of tired-looking parents supervising kids hyped up on ice cream, some groups of giggling teenagers, and a few young couples enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company.

  The Kings filed off the stage while Josie took over the mic to introduce a children’s musical group called The Rainbow Sprinkles, who would be joined by special guest Sheriff Scoopy. A ripple of excitement spread through the younger members of the crowd. Sheriff Scoopy was the King’s Ice Cream mascot, a favorite with the under-eight crowd.

  As The Rainbow Sprinkles started to play a kid-friendly cover of “Old Town Road,” some poor soul dressed up in a big plushie ice cream cone costume with a cowboy hat and sheriff’s badge wandered out onto the grass below the stage and was immediately mobbed by a dozen squealing kids.

  “Should we head out?” I asked, not really keen to sit around listening to saccharine covers of pop music.

  Mia looked up from her phone and shook her head. “I don’t want to walk around with my ice cream. Let’s sit for a while longer.”

  I shrugged and stretched my legs out on the grass, leaning back on one arm as I finished off my double scoop. The King family were still milling around next to the stage, watching Sheriff Scoopy lead the kids in a line dance. Whoever was in the suit today had impressive moves, given how hard it must be to maneuver inside all that synthetic stuffing. Cody King had his phone up and was filming Sheriff Scoopy’s dance, which probably meant it was one of his friends who’d been roped into the sorry job.

  Some preteens had joined in the line dance to show off their moves, and Sheriff Scoopy peeled off to dance through the audience, trying to entice some of the shyer kids to get up and dance with him. When the song ended, the band shifted into “I’m a Believer,” and even more kids got to their feet and started dancing to the popular tune. Sheriff Scoopy tried to coax a few of the moms into dancing with him, but without much success. Only one took the bait, and he whirled her around a couple of times before letting go of her and setting his sights on me.

  I rolled my eyes as he danced toward me, gyrating his hips like an ice-cream-shaped Elvis. When he extended a large gloved hand, I shook my head firmly.

  My brother snorted and gave my shoulder a shove. “Go on, Andie, I think he’s sweet on you.”

  While I was glaring at Josh, Birdie snatched my ice cream cone out of my hand. “Here, honey, let me hold your ice cream for you while you dance.”

  Sheriff Scoopy took the opportunity to seize my hand and yank me to my feet. Wrapping a fuzzy-sleeved arm around my waist, he swept me into a clumsy waltz. I humored him for a minute, unable to resist laughing as I tried to avoid stepping on his big clown boots. When I tried to slip out of his grasp after I decided I’d been enough of a good sport, he gripped me tighter and spun me before lowering me into a dip.

  I stared up at his giant ice cream head, wondering who was inside the costume and how annoyed I should be at the impertinence. When he pulled me back to my feet, I twisted away and tried to go sit back down.

  The next thing I knew he’d grabbed me around the waist and thrown me over his padded ice cream shoulder, caveman-style.

  I briefly considered kicking him in his frozen gonads to make him put me down, but decided I’d rather not get into a physical altercation with a beloved children’s character in front of a whole audience of kids and their parents. Resentfully, I let him carry me up onto the stage, where he deposited me next to the band. I wasn’t thrilled about being dragooned into whatever audience participation gag this was, but I stood there and pretended to go along with it for the sake of the little kids watching.

  Gazing out at the crowd, I saw my brother laughing his ass off at my impending humiliation. A couple of Wyatt’s brothers were laughing too, and Cody was still filming, the rat bastard. Whoever this Sheriff Scoopy was, I was going to hunt him down and exact my revenge in the most uncomfortable and embarrassing way possible.

  While I was plotting my retribution, the song came to an end and the singer passed the mic to Sheriff Scoopy. He moseyed toward me and dropped down on one knee at my feet.

  Oh, Jesus. I braced myself to play along with some vaudevillian fake proposal or whatever nonsense this was.

  What I didn’t expect was for Sheriff Scoopy to pull off his big ice cream head and unmask himself as Wyatt King.

  31

  Wyatt

  It occurred to me, as I dropped to my knees up on that stage, that I might have made a major miscalculation here.

  Andie’s stunned expression was hard to read. She might be seriously pissed about all of this. It was hard to gauge from her frozen, wide-eyed stare.

  The point had been to prove that I wasn’t afraid to tell the world how I felt about her. I didn’t think just saying it to her would be enough to make her believe I meant it—not after the way I’d let her down before. I figured I had to show her how much I meant it. By saying it publicly. Which required getting her out in public.

  Doing it here at the festival had been Mia’s idea. I’d begged her to help get me in the same place as Andie somewhere that I could make a public declaration. After Mia had enlisted Birdie to coax Andie out to the festival today, I’d called Josie and shocked the hell out of her by volunteering to play Sheriff Scoopy.

  It had seemed like the perfect way to show Andie how serious I was and how far I was willing to go for her—even so far as debasing myself in front of my family and participating in this stupid festival they’d cooked up to promote the creamery.

  No doubt Josie was currently regretting letting me don the Sheriff Scoopy costume. She hadn’t known about the rest of my plan. I hadn’t told her, because there were very strict rules in place to maintain Sheriff Scoopy’s public image, including never, ever talking out loud or being seen out of character. Taking off the headpiece in front of a whole audience of kids to make a big romantic speech to my girlfriend? Definitely a major no-no. My sister was probably putting out a hit on me right now.

  But that was a problem for later. At the moment, all I could think about was Andie and how to win my way back into her affections.

  I had no idea if this was going to work. It might have been a mistake doing this in front of an audience. She might think I was trying to embarrass her. Or pressure her by putting her on the spot. She might not be in any frame of mind to hear me out. I could very well be setting myself up for a brutal public rejection.

  There wasn’t anything to do about that now. For good or ill, I’d committed myself to this course of action. The only way out was through.

  Raking a hand through my sweaty hair, I lifted the microphone to my lips. “Andrea Camille Lockhart…”

  Her eyes widened even more when I said her name, her mouth snapping shut as she drew back a half step. My stomach dropped in apprehension, but I bowled onward, hoping I could talk my way out of the mess I’d made.

  “I’m on my knees begging you to give me another chance. I love you, I always have, and I want the whole world to know it. Every single love song I’ve ever written is about you. When I try to picture my future, all I can see is your face. If you’ll let me, I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.”

  Andie blinked, her lips parting in what I dearly hoped was t
he start of a smile.

  I lurched unsteadily to my feet, fighting with the puffy goddamn cowboy boots I was wearing. When her lips curved in amusement at my struggle, I felt something shift in my chest.

  Stepping closer, I took her hand in my comically large glove and said, “You’re it for me, Andie. I want you to be my one and only girl. Please say you’ll take me back and let me love you forever.”

  I was sweating bullets as I lowered the mic, and not just because it was hotter than Satan’s asshole inside this godforsaken costume. The smile on Andie’s face had faded when I started talking again. She seemed to be studying me now. Thinking hard, like she was trying to make up her mind.

  I rated my chances of success somewhere south of fifty-fifty.

  But then I saw the corner of her mouth twitch, and my heart gave a little leap. Because I knew that mouth twitch. I’d known it all my life. And I knew it meant Andie was about to smile.

  Sure enough, her expression cleared. Her eyes seemed to dance, and her lips curved in the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. It sucked the breath right out of my chest, it was so beautiful.

  “Yes,” she whispered as she nodded her head.

  Distantly, I was aware of people cheering. But in my stunned euphoria I only had room for one thought in my head. I needed to kiss this woman standing in front of me.

  I lunged for her at the same moment she lunged for me, and we ended up colliding clumsily, the damn ice cream suit hitting her in the chest and trying to push her away. My arms wrapped around her, keeping her from falling back, and her hands grabbed onto my face as our mouths finally came together.

  I kissed the hell out of her, not caring about all the little kids watching. I kissed her like my life depended on it, because I was pretty certain it did.

  Relief flowed through me like warm water, washing away all my emptiness and fear. But I quickly got frustrated, because I couldn’t touch her with anything but my lips. I needed my hands on her and I needed to feel her touching me, but she couldn’t reach me inside this big dumb suit any better than I could reach her.