“Wow! Do you even need me?” My mother came bursting through the door. “You’ve got a full house.” She yanked off her hat and shook the water from her umbrella on the mat by the door.
“Morning, Mrs. Crewse,” the girls chimed.
“Morning.” She blew out a breath. “Whew!” she said. “It’s getting bad out there.”
“C’mon, Mom,” I said, going over to help her with her coat. “I’ll always need you. I couldn’t do it without you.”
“Right,” she said, then sized up the room. “This place looks fantastic. Doesn’t it?” she asked the girls. “I love that you exposed the brick walls.”
“Yes, it does look nice in here,” Maisie said. “I love all the stainless-steel appliances, too. Makes it look official.”
“Official?” Riya asked.
“Yes, I think it looks official,” Maisie said. “Although with all the pictures Win took with her phone and texted to me, I already knew it was going to be beautiful.”
“I got more notifications from her phone than I got hospital pages,” Riya said.
“I still have to get that plexiglass wall up.” I pointed to the particleboard that was holding its place. “Once that’s in, then I can see up front from back here, and up front can see me.”
“Well, I’m itching to see up front,” my mother said. “I’m sure I won’t even recognize the place. And I am so excited to see that glass wall overlooking the falls.”
“Beautiful,” Maisie said.
“You’ve seen it?” my mother asked.
“Only in pictures.”
“I stopped by the day they were putting it in,” Riya said. “Haven’t seen it fully installed, though.”
“Well, I’ll give everyone the full tour after we get my batches going,” I said, looking at my mother. “Plenty of time for all of your oohs and aahs. But that won’t help me serve my customers.”
“I’m ready,” my mother said. “I came to work.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Riya said. “Let’s get to making ice cream.”
“Yes,” I said. “Let’s make ice cream!” I clapped my hands together. “Maisie, you’re on flavor duty. I’m making the usual—French vanilla, chocolate—only mine is going to be chocolaty decadence.”
“Decadent chocolate? I don’t know how you’d do that,” Riya said. “But that sounds like it’s going to be my favorite.”
“I’m betting it’ll be everyone’s favorite,” I said.
“What about strawberry?” Maisie said. “That’s a usual one.”
“I’m doing it, only I’m mixing it up and making it a shortcake.” I turned and pointed to my mother. “Mom, I need you to bake the cake and”—I nodded toward the pantry—“I had ears of corn delivered this morning. They’re in a box. I pulled them in there, too. If you can cut the kernels off the cob for me.”
“Popcorn?” she asked, her eyebrows arching. “You’re making popcorn ice cream?” She didn’t seem to like the idea.
“We’re not doing popcorn, per se,” I said with a sly grin. “At least not what you’re thinking of. I’m making a caramel corn ice cream.”
“Oh! That sounds yummy,” she said, and smacked her lips.
“Glad you like it,” I said, and smiled. “So you take care of the corn and I’ll make the caramel.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Maisie asked.
“Split the vanilla bean and extract the seeds,” I said. “And I’ll need enough to make vanilla extract, too. I’ll give you the measurements. Then cut up the strawberries. I’ll make the puree.” I grabbed my knapsack and pulled out my notebook. “Oh,” I said after perusing it, “I’m also making cherry amaretto chocolate chunk.”
“Amaretto?” Maisie said. “As in the liqueur?”
“Yes,” I said. I looked at her sideways and batted my eyes. “As in the liqueur. So, I’ll need you to pit and halve the cherries and break the chocolate into chunks.” I tore the page out of my notebook. “I wrote down how much I’ll need.” I pointed to the pantry where I’d told my mother she’d find the corn. “Everything’s in there.”
“And me?” Riya asked.
I walked over to the commercial refrigerator and pulled out a crate of eggs. “Here,” I said, and nodded toward the aluminum mixing bowls. “Grab a couple of those. I need you to separate these eggs for me.”
“Oh.” She looked down at them, then back up at me. “I—I don’t know if I can do that,” she said, taking the tray from me, her eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t think I remember a thing from my surgery rotation.”
“It’s not like surgery,” my mother said, laughing. “It’s easy. You’ll be fine.” My mother headed to the pantry to get started on her assignment. “Crack open the shell and extract the yolk.”
“Sounds like surgery to me,” Riya muttered. Maisie and I chuckled.
“I’ve got something to show you,” I said, following my mother. I leaned in toward her and lowered my voice.
I looped my arm through hers and walked her back over to the table where I’d put my knapsack.
“Well, you said it. It’s getting late, so you better hurry and tell so we can get down to business.” She looked at Maisie and Riya. “Although I think you won’t have a problem with all your help.”
“It’s about PopPop,” I said. I turned her toward me and let my eyes settle into hers.
“What?” Her eyes got big and she turned to look at the girls. She must have figured it was about them since I’d taken to whispering. “Is it the omelet? Was your dad right? PopPop wouldn’t eat the Riya omelet?”
“No.” I blinked, then shook my head. “Yes. Daddy was right. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you.” Without taking my eyes off hers, I reached my hand down into my bag and pulled out the tin.
“Oh my,” my mother said, looking down into my hands, practically mimicking my reaction when I first saw it. “It couldn’t be.” I saw tears well up in her eyes, and that made mine get misty as well. She reached out her hand tentatively, then pulled back, seemingly afraid that if she touched it, it might disappear again.