CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AMELIA TRIES HER BEST TO keep Molly’s Cadillac centered on the driveway as she drives down to the stand with a trunk full of ice cream, but this proves an unfortunately difficult task for someone who can barely see over the dashboard. The vehicle rocks over the lumpy dirt—an off-kilter pink tank—and every time the brush scrapes and claws like fingers against the doors, Amelia shrieks.
Grady has started keeping the car keys on the table near the entryway for her, so Amelia can use it when she needs to. She is surprised at how rusty she feels behind the wheel, though she probably shouldn’t be. Amelia got her license this past spring but she hardly ever drives. She gets around fine on her bike, since her family only has one car. Plus, Cate’s always around to drive them wherever they need to go. But the speed with which her heart races on these trips up and down the driveway, compared to the speedometer needle fluttering at just under five miles per hour, is probably a sign she should practice more.
Amelia parks alongside Cate’s truck, but she doesn’t find Cate in the stand with the other girls.
“Is she here?”
“Yeah,” Jen says, thumbing outside. “She’s waiting for the newbies.”
Amelia walks outside to the front of the stand. And there is Cate, perched on the picnic table, her blond hair long and catching the breeze. She’s wearing makeup—eyeliner winged, a touch of pink blush, cherry-red lip gloss—and her arms and legs are coated in her favorite vanilla bean lotion, the one that has a bit of sparkle mixed in. Her Keds are new and spotless.
“You look amazing.”
“Thanks. You know, I’ve wanted to do this, to be this girl, ever since our first summer,” Cate sheepishly admits.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“Nope,” Cate says. “Though, if you could get Grady out of here, that’d be amazing. There are all these huge holes in the stand now. It’s embarrassing.”
Over her shoulder, Amelia watches Grady determinedly yanking off wooden boards with a crowbar. From a distance, he looks like he knows what he’s doing, but Amelia knows better. He has Band-Aids on every finger. When she turns back, the three newbies are approaching. One comes by bicycle, and the other two are dropped off by a grandpa-type. She lingers, wanting to see Cate do her thing.
Cate tosses them each a polo shirt. “Okay, girls, I know I don’t have to tell you how special this place is.” Grinning, Cate leans back, resting her weight on her elbows. “But trust me that it’s even more special once you’re behind the counter with us. If you prove yourself worthy over the next few days, you’ll never be a plain old customer again. You’ll be a Meade Creamery girl. And that lasts forever.”
Amelia is happy to hear Cate say it. Sometimes it feels like they don’t hold Meade Creamery in the same regard.
Cate goes on, “We take care of each other in here, the way sisters do. No one risks sneaking off to text their boyfriend when a school bus full of campers might pull up. No one’s going to wimp out and not empty the trash cans even if there are bees around. We may not always get along perfectly, but not one girl here would ever think of taking the last tampon out of the box in the office without dropping off a new box the next day, whether they were on the schedule or not. You know what I mean?”
The three girls nod like bobbleheads.
“We take pride in every aspect of this job. Every. Aspect. Even down to the sprinkles.” Cate wets her lips. “You newbies don’t know it yet, but there’s actually a fine art to getting perfect sprinkle coverage on an ice cream cone. And I’m going to show you how right now.”
The three girls look awkwardly at each other.
“Let’s go! Chop-chop! Into the stand!”
“Cate,” Amelia whispers. “This isn’t Lord of the Flies!”
Cate looks pleased as punch. “I always thought the Head Girl could up the theatrics a little bit.”
* * *
Amelia is cleaning up after a batch of strawberry when she hears Grady come into the house. He washes his hands, then comes downstairs. He’s a little sunburned.
“How’s it going out there?”
He hooks his chin on her shoulder. “Good. At least I feel useful.” His phone rings.
“Is that your dad again?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been avoiding him for days. Is that smart?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. But it’s not like he’s calling to find out how I am or anything. He wants to talk business. He went through the books and he has all these new ideas for me.”
“All bad ones, you think? Nothing that might be worth considering?”
“Good or bad, once he tells me them, they won’t be optional.”
“You’re doing a great job. There’s ice cream to sell; the girls are happy.”
He kisses her neck. “What are you doing tonight? Let me take you out on a date.”
Her eyes slowly close as she melts into him. “We can’t.”
“What if we went someplace far? Like a few towns over.”
“Things are just getting back to normal with me and Cate. If word got back to her before I told her about us . . .”
“So tell her! Or I can tell her, if you want.”
“I’ll tell her eventually. Just not yet. Anyway, don’t you have schoolwork you’re neglecting?”
“Promise me we’ll go on at least one date before the end of the season. Okay?”
She nods, but what happens after that? She doesn’t ask Grady, in part because she’s got ice cream to make, and also because she doesn’t know herself what she wants the answer to be.