“Really? So what do you suggest?”
“I always suggest the vanilla malt. My favorite. Our homemade vanilla is delicious.”She smiled again.“All the flavors are delicious, if I do say so myself. My grandmother was a genius with recipes of all types.”
“Then a vanilla malt it is.”
The woman deftly made the malt, said a word or two to the customer at the end of the counter, and greeted two new people who came in and wandered back further into the store. She did all this without missing a beat, then placed the malt in front of him with a straw and a long-handled spoon.“Enjoy.”
He took a bite—too large of a bite by the instant cold headache that stabbed his forehead—and acknowledged that everyone was right. Delbert and this woman. It was delicious.
A young teen walked up.“Grams, there are two more customers to check out. I’ll get them. Do you need anything else?”
Grams? Though there was a hint of gray threaded through her dark brown hair, he wouldn’t have pegged her as a grandmother of a teenager. Though, to be honest, he didn’t quite always do the math and it shocked him when he ran into old friends who were grandparents. He certainly wasn’t old enough for that. But really, what did he know? He had no kids, so he’d never have a grandkid. Confirmed bachelor. Not that it bothered him. He’d long since made peace with his choices.
The woman’s warm voice interrupted his thoughts.“Just check out the Jacksons, then you can head on home. I’ll lock up.”
“Okay, I’ll be in about ten tomorrow and unpack that paint shipment we have coming in.”
“Thanks, Em.”
The other customer finished his ice cream and left. He figured he should finish his and let this woman close up. She scrubbed the counter, and as she got nearer to him, she smiled.“No hurry.”She tidied up the area and turned back to him, leaning against the counter without a trace of hurrying him along.“So, you in town for vacation?”
“I’m here for quite a while, actually. Working on The Cabot Hotel renovations.”
“Really?”Her eyes lit up.“I’m so glad that Mr. Hamilton bought it and is fixing it up. She used to be the most elegant, grand hotel. Back in the 1920s people would come and winter at the hotel. It has a fascinating history. My granddaughter, Emily, works at the history museum and loves all the old stories about the hotel and the town.”She reached out her hand.“I’m Donna, by the way.”
“Let me guess. Donna Parker.”
She grinned.“No, Donna Foster. But the first Parkers to own the shop were my great-grandparents. Parkers are known for having daughters.”She shrugged.“So the store got passed down from daughter to daughter, even after the Parker surname died out for our family. But most of the town still refer to us as the Parker women.”
“So you inherited it with this generation?”
“I did. My older sister, Evelyn, doesn’t have any interest in the store. She’s…well, she’s busy with other things.”
“I see.”He nodded toward the young, red-headed girl rushing out of the store with a brief“Bye, Grams.”“And that’s your granddaughter?”
“Livy’s daughter.”
“Ah, the one Delbert attributes the deliciousness of the ice cream to.”
“The very one.”
“Oh, and I’m Barry. Barry Richmond.”
“Nice to meet you, Barry.”
He finished the malt and she took the glass from him as he rose.“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be back soon for another one.”
“Any time.”
He headed out onto Magnolia Avenue and wandered down the street in the direction of his rental.
Or so he thought.
He finally realized he must be turned around and pulled out his phone to look at the map. He’d been walking in the exact wrong direction. With a tired sigh, he turned around and headed back down the street the way he’d come, looking for a Grand Canal Street that should lead him to Sandpiper Court and his rental.
As he passed Parker’s, Donna was just closing the front door. She touched a small sign by the door as she turned to leave. He startled her slightly as he approached.“Hello again.”
“Oh, Barry. Hi.”
