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She’s wrong. The view I have of her right here and now puts every other view to shame.
“Come on.” This time Nat takes my hand and lets me pull her up.
It doesn’t take long to get to the mom-and-pop ice cream shop that has been here for seventy-five years, according to the plaque on the wall.
Chloe and I have been coming here every summer since we were little kids. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Meader, are the kindest people. They have to be in their mid-seventies by now but still work every summer. Mostly walking around interacting with the customers. Their grandkids usually work the counter these days.
We have to wait in line for a few minutes before we get to enter. Outside, we’re behind a family of four. The dad is holding a little boy who looks like he’s maybe two. Nat starts playing peek-a-boo with him, and he won’t stop smiling at her.
Yeah. She’s got that effect on me too, kid.
When we finally make our way inside, white metal tables and chairs with heart-shaped metal backs and bright red cushions are scattered throughout the room. The floors are black and white checkers, and there is a long counter where you can sit to get a sundae, milkshake, or old-fashioned root beer float. Nat is looking over the menu written on the chalkboard above the counter. It boasts only homemade ice cream or old-fashioned Italian water ice.
When they call us up to the front, Mrs. Meader is standing behind the register. “Brady Ryan! It’s so good to see you, honey. And who is this beautiful creature you have with you? Did you finally find yourself a girl?” She winks at Nat, who smiles back at her like they are sharing some great inside joke.
“You know, Brady here has come here every summer for most of his life. He used to ask to sample all of the different flavors we had until one summer when he was maybe ten years old, he tried a vanilla cone with sprinkles. Do you know that is all he’s ever gotten since? I asked him once if he wanted to try a different flavor.”
Mrs. Meader turns to me, asking, “Do you remember what you said?”
Glancing from Nat to Mrs. Meader, I answer, “Didn’t want to try anything else because I already had the perfect ice cream.”
Mrs. Meader and Nat laugh. “See, he’s loyal to a fault when he finds something he likes. Which also means I know his order already. What can I get for you, dear?”
While they get Nat her mint chocolate chip in a pretzel cone and my three scoops of vanilla in a sugar cone with rainbow sprinkles, she turns to me, still laughing. “You think she could have laid it on any thicker?”
“Nope. And, I didn’t even pay her. The moral of the story—stick with me, and I promise not to lick anyone else.”
“You’re terrible.”
“Yeah, that was pretty bad.”
We take the ice cream to go and walk down to the bay to sit and watch the boats go by. The sunset a while ago and the stars are beginning to dot an inky sky. We don’t talk much, just sit and eat our ice cream.
I’m staring at the bay and the stars, anything that will keep me from watching Nat lick her ice cream cone. It’s actually torturing me because I might be a good guy, but I’m a filthy man, and I can’t help but think about everything else she can do with that delicious tongue.
Once she’s done, I take our trash and throw it out before we walk back to the house.
“Thanks for this tonight, Brady. If you tell Cooper, I will deny it, but I appreciate you hanging out with me. I don’t think I really wanted to be alone.”
“My lips are sealed, Nat.” I link my fingers through hers and walk back to my house with a silly smile on my face.
“Come upstairs with me.”
Her eyes look shocked, and I realize what that sounded like. “My parents' room has a private deck. It has a great view of the beach. It’s the perfect place to watch the fireworks. The porch downstairs has a ceiling, so it messes with the view. This deck is at the top of the house, and you can see everything.”
“Okay, then. Show me the way, QB.”
“Always, Sweetheart.”
We pass the bedrooms on the second floor and take a private flight of stairs to my parent’s master suite on the third floor. My mother has a two-person lounge chair on this balcony. We sit down next to each other, leaning back, waiting for the show to start.
I will not touch this girl is a mantra playing over and over in my head. It would work too if she didn’t situate herself right next to me. I lift my arm, and she snuggles in like she was always meant to be there, and that’s the thing, I think she was.
Nat lets out a light sigh, and her whole body relaxes against me.
We watch the fireworks exactly like that.
My fingers are playing with her long, blonde hair but not straying further.
