Chapter 13 MELTING MOMENTS #2
But this was part of Soraya’s own magic: no ice cream purchased from The Scoop ever soaked through the cone or dribbled down your arm.
No matter how hot the day. We’d all tested it, of course.
But however bright the sun or however diligently you attacked it with a cigarette lighter (Finn) or hairdryer (Tiff), the ice cream prevailed.
‘How are we going to eat all of this?’ I marvelled, as scoop after scoop perched increasingly precariously upon the rainbow that preceded it.
‘One bite at a time,’ said Finn cheerfully. ‘But I’ll do three to your one. Deal?’
‘And now for the toppings …’ Soraya put together a separate box of toppings for us so that we could mix and match as we went.
‘This has to be like a hundred bucks’ worth of ice cream,’ I marvelled.
Shrugging, Finn reached into his pocket.
‘Straight from the dead-dad fund,’ he said lightly. ‘Too soon?’ he added as I grimaced.
‘I mean … I think that one’s up to you to decide.’
‘Shit,’ he muttered, patting his pockets. ‘I left my wallet at home. Soraya, could you put it on my tab? Or Mom’s? I’ll get it squared right up with you. And you know I will – I’d never break a beautiful woman’s heart.’
To her credit, Soraya didn’t roll her eyes. ‘Uh huh,’ she said. ‘Lucky for you, I’m not about to stand in the way of love.’
Ducking my head to hide the flush in my cheeks, I opened the door for Finn so that he could hoist our enormous ice-cream haul outside without it turning into a disaster – and a viral internet moment.
After a few dicey lunging steps, he managed to park himself down on a wrought-iron park bench, ice cream still intact.
‘Back to what you were saying, I think Dad would want us to be happy,’ he said, taking a sizeable bite from the chocolate scoop on top.
‘You know, having a good time. That was kind of his thing, after all. Jamming out in the music room and sneaking out to eat leftovers in the middle of the night. Damn, that chocolate’s good.
Here, have some with the candied walnuts and the caramel chips … ’
He used his spoon to cobble together a giant helping of ice cream and toppings, holding it out for me to eat from. He made an aeroplane noise as I took a bite, and I burst out laughing.
‘Oh, come on,’ I mumbled around the extremely generous bite of ice cream.
Expression playful, Finn tapped me on the nose with the spoon, making me sticky with caramel.
‘Rude!’ I grumbled, grabbing my own spoon and doing the same to him.
With a chocolate smear on his nose, he grinned broadly. The sheer joy in his expression made me a tad weak in the knees.
‘Here,’ he said, proffering a napkin. He gently dusted off my nose, his bright-blue eyes meeting mine. I felt myself flushing. But I wasn’t going to let him win this one.
I grabbed the napkin off him, made a show of licking it like my gran might, then cleaned away the chocolate I’d booped onto his nose.
‘Oh, you didn’t,’ he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.
‘I used magic,’ I promised, laughing. ‘I would never use saliva for evil.’
‘Good to know. Because I’ve watched enough CSI to know that’ll catch up with you eventually.’ He waved the ice-cream cone like a jousting stick. ‘Do you want to take this down to the beach? We’ve got it down to portable size.’
‘Sure,’ I said, hoping that the squeak I was certain I’d heard in my voice hadn’t actually been that obvious. I was aiming for cool and insouciant, not ‘helper mouse from vintage cartoon’. More Audrey Hepburn from Sabrina and less Audrey Hepburn from My Fair Lady.
Finn linked his arm through mine, and we strolled across the main street towards the beach.
The appraising looks that groups of college girls and pairs of athleisure-clad women shot our way weren’t lost on me.
I knew Finn turned heads wherever he went, and that by extension I was now turning heads.
It was strangely flattering. I wasn’t as determined to seek out the limelight as Lara was, but I wasn’t a shrinking violet.
‘We should do this more often,’ he added, scooping a spoonful of orange sorbet from the middle of the gelato mound. ‘Hang out. Maybe … a date? A proper one.’
My ring sparked. Ouch. I shook out my hand. There was something very odd about whatever magic this ring held.
And with this whole situation, really. How was I supposed to respond to Finn’s question? A date? A real, actual date with Finn Tucker? I hadn’t known the word was in his vocabulary. Dates seemed more of a Noah thing.
Ice cream. Ice cream would save me. Brandishing my spoon, I attacked a scoop of coconut vanilla …
then frowned. Was the ice cream melting?
It was. Rivulets of sticky vanilla and dribbles of chocolate poured down the side of the waffle cone, pooling over Finn’s hand.
A line of nearby ants perked up and started racing towards the droplets that had fallen to the ground.
‘I thought this stuff wasn’t meant to melt,’ said Finn, mopping at his hand with a fresh napkin. ‘Did we get too far away from the source of the spell?’
I shook my head. ‘I’ve carried whole cones back to the Pink House without spilling a drop.
And Lara and I have eaten whole tubs of it by the Heart Tree, spill-free.
This is something new. Maybe Soraya’s not feeling well?
Or maybe Ernie’s been messing with the recipe.
I remember all the ways my kid magic would go sideways.
Like that time we tried to make our own stained glass. ’
Finn grinned. ‘Mom never forgave me for what we did to the living room chandelier.’
‘Rightly so,’ I said, cringing at the thought. We’d exploded a stunning Murano glass number all over the floor. Tiff and Noah had come in and tried to set things to rights, but, well, there was a reason the Pink House had recessed downlights in that room now.
I turned back towards The Scoop, as though this would offer some answers to the melting ice cream. And perhaps it did. Because I could see Soraya racing back and forth in alarm, shouting something over the phone.
‘It’s because we’re so hot together,’ whispered Finn in my ear.
His breath tickled my skin. But the electricity I felt was tempered by the zap from my ring. What was happening here?
Deep down, however, I knew what was going on. Every time I so much as looked at one of the Tucker boys, the ring crackled. Whatever the provenance of the thing, it had some serious thoughts about my love life. Or the lack of it.
‘So, about that date?’ said Finn. His tone was light, as always. But he’d brought it up again, which meant he was serious.
I swallowed. ‘All right.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Tonight.’