“Okay you two, thanks for visiting my jungle but get out! I got shit to do,” pointing to the door, like she never wanted to see us again. As we were about to walk into the vestibule, I heard Betty softly say, “Jim,” I turned to look at her gorgeous form, her glasses making her eyes express stronger than they should, “see you soon and think about it.” She gave a closed smile and waved us off.
Outside, the sun was out, not a cloud in the sky. The heat had spiked to an uncomfortable temperature, giving me an idea to continue our first date together. Not like it’s going to end, since he was staying with me. “Honey, how about some ice cream to keep us cool on the way home?”
When I noticed I said home like he was going to stay for good, I braced myself for a reaction, but I didn’t get one. He just turned to me, took my books and with the sweetest smile said, “Sounds perfect, Jimmy.”
God, I wanted to kiss him and hold him. I never knew feeling like this would be so torturous. It’s so painful to be so close to him and not be able to touch him like I wanted to. Or when he was far away, like in the library, out of sight. That was painful too.
How the fuck did I get here?
This couldn’t be normal, even with what Betty said about love– Did I love him? Is that what this was? We haven’t even had real sex yet.
I walked Charlie back down the way we came on Kearsarge Street, catching him looking toward the mine when it was in our sightline. It made me wonder if he was missing his father. I should send him home tonight so he can go see him and to confirm he’s alright.
Hell, I’ll go with him. I walked this much today, walking that small of a distance will be nothing in comparison.
When we got to Virginia Avenue, we hung a left instead of going back toward the Village. One block up was Isaly’s, a white store front with a striped awning, and big windows with signs that state the sale prices for items, famous for their chip-chopped ham and specialty ice cream flavors. Two things that shouldn’t go together.
We headed inside, where there was a long counter stretching the entire length of one of the side walls. The section in the back half was for the deli items, so we walked up to the front area. They had dozens of flavors of ice cream to choose from. I looked at Charlie and he was stunned, “Oh wow,” looking at me with his big blue eyes. If he was surprised now, I couldn’t wait to see his reaction to what he’s about to get. These cones were famous.
“Hello gentleman, what can I help you with,” an older man, probably in his sixties, with white hair under a paper soda jerk hat, came down from the other end of the store.
“Hi, it might be a moment, I have a first timer, and I think I’ve overwhelmed him with too many choices,” giving a snicker at Charlie’s expense. He was nibbling on his bottom lip, full concentration mode, trying to decipher the flavors, I’m sure. Some had odd names.
“If you have any questions or would like to taste a few, let me know,” the man said.
Charlie looked stressed. It made me chuckle, “Charlie. I promise, I’ll bring you back.”
He swung his head up with an eyeroll, “But I want so many of them. It all looks so good. I haven’t had an ice cream since…” but he trailed off and his eyes got a little grey, losing the light they normally sparkle.
“Well, I’m going to get my normal. I always say I will try something different, but can never break away from the Old-Fashioned Whitehouse Cherry,” licking my lips.
“What is it? It was on my list of maybe one to try before I decide,” pointing at it through the glass dome that contains the ice creams. “I was also thinking the Maricopa, since it looks good, whatever that is?”
“I don’t know what that second one is, but the Whitehouse Cherry is an old-fashioned vanilla ice cream with maraschino cherries all through it giving the ice cream itself a pink tint,” rubbing my stomach and groaning, “Mmmm, it’s so good, and a big summer staple around here.”
“Well, if you are getting that, maybe I’ll get the other one,” peeking at me slyly, “if you will let me try yours?”
I dropped my mouth in mock surprise. “Share? How could you possibly think I wouldshare,” putting my hand to my chest in a dramatic fashion, “my favorite ice cream?” I bobbed my head for emphasis.
“Okay, thanks. Sir, I think we’re ready. We’ve come to an agreement,” Charlie says with authority.
“Like hell we have, you shit,” I stated, laughing and triggering both Charlie and the older man to laugh too. This felt really good. This feeling coursing through me was nothing I have ever felt before. At least not since I was a kid, at times. Charlie brings this joy out of me that I thought was dead.
Maybe Betty was right– Charlie is my light.
“Okay gents, what will it be,” getting to work on the flavor Charlie asked for, going in blind without tasting his choice first. The Maricopa was a very light tan color with ribbons of bright tan throughout it. I asked him what the flavor was as he worked, which he said was a vanilla with butterscotch swirled in. That did sound good too.
Ugh, I should really try a different one next time.
The man used an odd-looking scoop to dig into the ice cream. Instead of the traditional rounded shell shape, this was pointed at the top like it was bent open and flattened into a sharp teaspoon spear. He built the multiple scoops on top of a cone side by side, instead of on top of one another. And because of the scooper shape it created this tower with a point at the top. It stood at least four inches above the cone.
He handed the cone over to Charlie, who hesitantly reached for it. “Holy shit, Jimmy, where did you bring me,” making us all laugh again.
After my cone was made and I paid the twenty cents owed, I turned around to find Charlie holding the cone with both hands, licking the tower and the drips before they fell, giving me an idea of something else he could lick later, making my cock start to plump. Then I noticed the books were set aside safely.
Okay, I didn’t think this through.
I turned back around but the man was already coming around the counter with a paper bag, reading my mind. He politely bagged up our lot for us, so I flicked him a dime for his generosity, “Thank you for your help.” He nodded with a smile and we left, to head out into the sun with our famous Isley’s Skyscraper Ice Cream Conesbeing licked and a bag full of books.
