At a more leisurely pace, she followed him down the street, enjoying the sunshine. She loved the early mornings when not many were up and about. Never really minded being out before many in the town were stirring and being the person to open the store. Though it looked like her new neighbor was an early riser, too.
She got to the store, unlocked it, and flipped the sign to open. So began her day, just like the day before, and the day before that.
Olivia hurriedinto Parker’s mid-morning. She waved to her mom, who was busy with a customer, and went over to the small area at the side of the store where they had a long counter and a few small tables. Parker’s had always had a small malt shop area in the store. At first, it had been her great-grandmother’s homemade ice cream, one flavor a day, that townspeople flocked to come and enjoy in cones. Her great-grandmother had taken over running the store from her own parents and added the ice cream shop as her own special flair in the general store. Eventually, the tiny corner for ice cream expanded, so they had a handful of flavors, started making malts, and added a soda fountain.
This part of the store wasn’t very profitable anymore, and to make it profitable, they really needed more space to expand to a larger selection of food items. But there really was no more space to expand into without giving up something else in the store. Her mother made noises about changing it, but neither one of them could quite give up the history of the malt shop. And it did bring in people to the store, who then often remembered something else they needed to pick up.
She put on an apron and scooted behind the counter. The malt shop counter opened up about eleven a.m. each day until they closed the store in the evening. She looked up as her first customer approached.“Mr. Hamilton, hi. What’s your pleasure?”
“Butter pecan. Two scoops today. I’m calling it my late breakfast.”He winked at her.
“I think ice cream should always qualify as a meal.”She grinned back. He’d become a regular customer here since he bought The Cabot Hotel. Sometimes just a fountain soda—always with extra ice—and sometimes a cone or a malt.
She carefully dished him up a waffle cone with his ice cream and handed it to him. He slipped onto a stool to eat it as he often did, staying and chatting with her. She got a malt for another customer and turned back to Mr. Hamilton.“Things going okay with the work on the hotel?”
“They are now. Hired someone else to manage the day-to-day. Barry Richmond. Met him years ago and thankfully he was available for the job now. I need to go check on a hotel we’re opening in Tampa, and there’s a problem at one of our older hotels in Philadelphia. Going to be gone for a bit.”
“We’ll miss you.”
He smiled.“And I’ll miss your ice cream.”
“We’ll be here when you get back.”
“You’ll be one of my first stops when I do return.”
“Hi, Mom,”Emily called out as she breezed in the door and headed back to the stockroom. Emily always breezed through everywhere, a whirlwind of energy and ambition.
“My daughter, Em. She works here, too.”Olivia nodded toward the direction Emily had disappeared. She was pleased to see that Mr. Hamilton’s face didn’t immediately have the look she usually got when people realized she had a sixteen-year-old daughter.
“She looks like you. Except for the hair.”
“I know. Not sure where she got that all that red hair. She’s forever fighting to tame it, but it kind of has a mind of its own.”Why was she explaining her daughter’s hair to Mr. Hamilton? Although he was an easy one to talk to, she doubted a teen’s hair problems were big on his chatting list.
“I used to know a girl with hair like that.”He smiled and stood.“I should go. But one other thing I’d like.”
“What’s that?”
“Call me, Del, please. Mr. Hamilton…I keep thinking you’re speaking to my father.”His eyes twinkled with friendliness.
She grinned.“Del, it is, then. And I’m Olivia—Livy.”
“Thanks, Livy. See you when I get back in town.”
She watched as he left the store, then turned back to work. She had more vanilla ice cream to make, and things usually picked up here in the afternoon. Better get moving before things got too busy. She sure didn’t want to run out of their signature flavor.
Chapter 3
Barry headed over to Parker’s General Store that evening. Ever since Del dropped by before he left town and mentioned the ice cream there, Barry had been craving a malt. He asked directions from a worker at the hotel who said to head to Magnolia Avenue and he couldn’t miss it. He took Harborside, cut across Third Street, and ended up on Magnolia Avenue. The worker was right, you couldn’t miss the large sign over the general store. Parker’s.
The whole idea of an old-fashioned general store intrigued him. Not to mention one with a malt shop inside. He headed down the block and pushed into the store. Del had said the malt shop was run by a young, friendly woman, Livy.
The woman behind the counter did look friendly, but she appeared to be about his age—and he’d quit thinking of himself as young quite a few years back. He slid onto a stool at the counter.
The woman turned from chatting with a customer and walked over to greet him.“What can I get for you?”
“Are you the Livy who my friend Del raves about? Says she has the best ice cream in the state.”
Her mouth swept up into a smile.“Ah, that would be my daughter. But we do have the best ice cream around. My grandmother’s recipe.”
