“Nice.” He nodded slowly, dragging the word out. “You fit right in here.”
“Is it too early for two scoops?”
“Never.” He grabbed the scoop and a bowl. “Rocky Road?”
Home is where everyone knows your favorites.She hated agreeing to act as a double agent against the first person offering her a warm welcome. “Yes, please. Best way to start the day. So, how are things here? I’ve only been back a few days, but it seems…”
He stuck a spoon in the bowl and handed over the ice cream. “Different? Does the general vibe seem off?”
She nodded, grabbing the bowl with both hands. Digging in, she savored the sweetness on her tongue and crunched the nuts.
“Start of the season is always rough. This year is even more so than usual.” He strode down the length of the counter to the register, ringing up her purchase.
She followed and paid in cash, grabbing a ten-dollar bill from her back pocket and stuffing the change in a tip jar. “Because of my dad?”
“Not exactly. The weather has been off. Climate change is Lonnie’s go-to scapegoat for why he’s having trouble with his fudge.” Zach rolled his eyes. “The Prims haven’t started their tours on the water yet. They probably have a legitimate reason. Losing your dad has shaken up the community, too. How are you doing?” he asked, softening his tone.
A flare of emotion tickled her nose and enflamed her throat. The earnest sincerity touched her. She shrugged. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
“If you need to talk, you can come here.”
She nodded and stuffed another scoop in her mouth. The good and bad part of coming home was the shared history. Zach had had a contentious relationship with his own late father.
“Okay, enough small talk.” He rubbed his hands together. “Are you staking your claim to the Inn? Asserting your rightful ownership and kicking out your husband?” He shook his head. “I sure hope so. We all would.”
“Really? What’s been going on?”
“Your husband.” Zach released a world-weary sigh. “He’s run the Phillips family out of the arcade. It’s been taken over by someone new.”
She widened her gaze. “Why? What happened?”
“Short story is your husband’s tyrannical demands. He pretty much expects us all to kiss the ring,” Zach said. “If you’re interested in the full details of the last five years, I’ve been blogging about it.”
She wasn’t sure what was more horrifying: that her husband’s micromanagement had extended beyond the perimeter of the Inn, seemingly with her father’s blessing, or that she was expected to sift through a personal website for the details. She liked Zach but he had a pretty big opinion of himself. The blog was probably a navel-gazing page devoted to him. Inwardly, she winced. She was guilty of the same on her accounts. “What’s your blog called?” she asked, forcing a smile.
“The Jenkins Report. I’ve detailed the whole affair from the beginning. He acts like the king of Loon Lake and lords over us mere shopkeepers like we’re serfs.”
She pressed together her lips. Zach needed to sort through his analogies. Was Loon Lake in the modern era or the Middle Ages?
Technically, the boardwalk shops were part of the Inn. Christopher had every right and responsibility to ensure a smooth operation. Only the Prim’s business was its own enterprise. Christopher had seemed off-balance by Steve’s proposal. Because he had gotten used to ruling everyone else? “Last five years? Can you give me the condensed version?”
“He changed the terms of all of our leases. We can’t transfer from one family member to another.” Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “Each year, to renew, we have to present a formal business plan. He wants to know our costs and plans for growth. Often, he asks us to reevaluate and update. He’ll stop in to see that we’re sticking to our plan.”
She scooped up a large bite of ice cream, stuffing it into her mouth to give herself time to think. Christopher was always overly involved in business. She remembered giving up on the lemonade stand they’d started because he became obsessed with optimization. She wanted to make some money to go to the arcade and get an ice cream.
He was a micromanager to the nth degree. Over the past twenty-four hours, he’d watched her complete mindless tasks like he didn’t trust her to get on with it. He might have a point in light of the minor disasters she’d caused, but still she commiserated with Zach.
She swallowed her bite. “I always forget how good the ice cream is here.”
Zach smiled. “That’s because I make it from my family’s basic recipe and work with a local dairy. Being a small batch company means I focus on quality. That was one of the things we fought over. He thought I should change for the sake of profits.” Zach crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the back wall. “I had a different idea.” He pointed over his head.
Ashley lifted her gaze to a row of brightly colored T-shirts on the back wall. A neon green shirt was emblazoned with the Scoops, There It Is logo on the front pocket. Next to it was the shirt displayed in reverse with the phrase “A day without ice cream? As if!” in white letters. A neon yellow shirt had the same front logo design. The back read “Full PHAT ice cream.”
“I’ve done a lot of online sales from my merchandise. Tourists love the slogans.”
“What a great idea.” She stuffed another spoonful into her mouth.
The merchandise was cute. Pun-based slogans and throwback styles popped up on the social media accounts she followed. She wouldn’t be surprised if T-shirt sales cleared overhead costs for the ice cream shop.
