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“Everyone agreed that stays. The waffle boats too.”
“Phew. You had me worried. But what about the ice cream parlor? What do you think?”
“I think people love the classic ice cream shop option, but maybe we could add a few elements. Like, we could have an area where customers can show off their ice cream and snap a photo for social media. Do something unique in the shop that goes beyond just selling the best ice cream around. We could offer seasonal flavors, one-of-a-kind toppings, or blends. Perhaps some retail items like T-shirts and swag. Mostly though, we want them to have an experience that’s beyond just standing in line, ordering ice cream, and eating it. Like we could update the interior. Do something out front that draws the eye, but nothing tacky and tourist-trappy. You know?”
“I like it. Makes me think of the Plundering Pelican a bit. Must be in your blood.”
“One of my guilty pleasures after working at the Gastrodome all day, and after Luke would go to sleep, was watching shows on HLTV with the sound off. I was such a sucker for fixer-uppers, before and after remodels, and that kind of thing. Looking back, I think I was hoping for that in my life.”
“How’s it coming?”
“We’re between before and after, but so far so good.”
I get another kiss.
“Remember how I mentioned Chip left me his journal?” He picks up a leather book tied with a leather lace from the coffee table. “I know it’s asking a lot of you—fixing up the Sip & Scoop with me, but I’m wondering if you’d read this too.”
Ryan passes it to me. The journal looks smaller in his hands than it does in mine which must be why he’s so enthusiastic about all of Luke’s baby-sized things.
I turn it over and smooth my palm along the cover. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Seems like it’s private.”
“Probably. But I can’t read it.”
“Because of what it might contain or something else?”
“Kind of. Open it and you’ll see what I mean.”
Not feeling good about opening Ryan’s grandfather’s diary, I hesitantly untie the lace securing it.
“I want to help my brothers. I want to find the missing stone. Or at least try to. This has to be a key.”
When I part the cover, an envelope falls out. Compared to the dry, yellowed paper in the journal, the envelope is crisp, white, and sealed with a wax monogramCVA. I pass it to Ryan.
He studies it, and like me, hesitates to open it. “This is Chip’s seal with his initials, but I don’t see who it’s addressed to. Maybe no one?”
“Or you, considering it was in the diary and that was the item he wanted you to have.”
“But Chip was so mysterious. Everything meant something.”
“He gave you a pen, right? Maybe you’re supposed to fill it out for him.”
Ryan puffs an exhale. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe there are instructions in the journal.” I glance down at the page and blink a few times.
“Need your glasses?”
“No, it’s not that. You’re right. I can’t read this either.” I trace my fingers over the loopy letters, trying to make sense of the old-fashioned handwriting.
“See? It’s hard to read, right?”
I frown. “I think that’s because it’s not in English.”
“Chip was fluent in Brazilian.”
“But you’d be able to read that, wouldn’t you?”
Ryan shrugs. “I’m better at understanding than speaking or reading. But Magnus is fluent. Maybe he can tell us what it says.”
