Ice Cream

“Vanessa, darling,” called out Benjamin Moore to his wife. She didn’t answer. Where can she be? He thought. 

The only sound in the house was the chime of the old oak clock, its golden pendulum swinging inside its glass box. The air still smelled like oatmeal and raisin cookies from yesterday’s baking, although their grandchildren had eaten the whole pan. Benjamin opened the back door, admiring the back garden through the mosquito net. There between a tomato plant and a ceramic vase knelt Vanessa, her withered hands dirty from the soft dark soil and the golden hour glow softening her face. She dug a bit and turned her torso to take a little packet of radish seeds when she raised her eyes and saw him standing there. 

“Ben, come here, get some fresh air.” She told him. “Check the green peppers for me, please. Over there in the small plastic pot…” 

He obliged, taking his baseball hat and stepping outside. He paused. “It’s mighty hot, let me make something to drink first.” 

He turned back and went inside, opening about a dozen cabinets before finding a glass jar. There was some sort of powder in the pantry for instant lemonade. Kids these days! He shook his head. They don’t want to make anything fresh anymore. 

Ben took the sugar container, then opened the fridge and grabbed a bag full of big yellow limes. 

Meanwhile, Vanessa wiped sweat off her forehead, feeling a bit dizzy. She stood and walked over to a chair under the shade. Her birthday would be in a few days, it was crazy to think she was turning 68. Life goes by so fast. 

Ben came out, two tall lemonade glasses with ice cubes in his big rough hands, he kicked the door shut with his foot and handed his wife a glass. Vanessa took a sip. “This is marvelous.” 

He drank half of the lemonade in one long gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thank you, darling.” 

Out of the sudden, she turned to him and asked: “Remember when we first met?”

“Of course, summer of ‘71 back in Hastings.”

“Yes, I was with my friend Ruby, and you were with your college roommate… I forget his bloody name.”

“Steven.”

“Yes. Well, can you believe it’s been fifty years?”

He inhaled, raising his eyebrows. “Time sure does fly, it feels like just yesterday your ice cream fell on my head.”

Vanessa began to laugh. “I’m telling you, it’s the only way I would’ve talked to you. I was so intimidated to talk to any boy.”

Ben leaned into her and smiled. “A pretty Brit swearing profusely can charm any man.”

“That was a fun day on the coast, you were such a tourist…” 

~ ~ ~

“Gee, I hate it when there’s no parking spot,” muttered Ruby, pulling at one of her strawberry blonde accent braids. 

“We should just bike next time,” said Vanessa, absent-mindedly, checking her mascara and running her fingers through her feathered bangs in the car’s vanity mirror before flipping it shut. 

“Bike? You mad hatter, it’s a two hour drive. A-ha! There’s a good spot…” said Ruby, reversing a bit to give the exiting truck enough space, then turned the steering wheel with only one hand and smoothly slid in. 

“Very suave, Ruby.” 

The proud teenager clicked her tongue and with both hands snapped her fingers into shooting guns. A group of sun-tanned boys walked past, colorful surfboards under their armpits, each with a distinctly unique design. 

Vanessa pointed at them with her chin. “I wish I could surf.”

“Me too, it looks really fun—but also very difficult to learn.” 

They got out of the car, Vanessa took a large tote bag with their stuff, slid on her sunglasses, and took a look around. Their parking spot was right next to the beach, there was a small plaza with shops and small seafood restaurants. Luckily, they had stopped by a drive-through for burgers and fries on the road, so they weren’t hungry. Ruby stretched her back before opening the trunk and taking the beach umbrella and a straw hat, putting on the latter after smoothing her hair back.

“Should we just leave our shirts here?” Asked Vanessa, shouldering the bag. 

“Yeah, let’s do that. It’s easier anyway, because taking them off over there,” she pointed at the people in the sand, “is always uncomfortable.” 

Vanessa put the bag on the ground and pulled her ribbed polo over her head, careful not to dislocate her swimwear. Ruby took her graphic short-sleeve off as well, both girls now wearing only bikini tops and their hot pants. 

“I absolutely love your bikini,” said Ruby, looking at Vanessa’s sage crochet bikini with white flowers embroidered at the edges. 

“Thank you,” said Vanessa, “let’s get some ice-cream first, shall we?”

The nearest ice-cream shop was in East Beach street, between a souvenir store and a rockshop, where they waited behind a couple in line. 

“Hullo, loves, what can I get you?” said a middle-aged woman behind the long counter. 

“One sweet cream cone, please,” said Vanessa, “for me, and—”

“—a coke float,” finished Ruby, and her friend made a disgusted face. 

They paid after the woman handed over their desserts, and began walking to the beach. 

“I can’t imagine eating that American rubbish.” 

“That’s because you despise sodapop, but it’s quite the pearl.”

“Eh… hey, let’s go up to the dock to take a photograph.” 

They climbed the wooden stairs, Vanessa stepped aside, next to the dock rope railing. Rummaging through her bag in search of the Kodak pocket camera with one hand, she tipped her ice-cream cone a tad too much because next thing she knew, the sweet cream scoop had slid off the wafer and flew down to the people next to the dock. There was a quick yell, and Vanessa forgot what she was doing and leaned over to see the poor victim. 

The scoop had fallen on the head of a young man, his brown hair covered with the cream. His eyes were wide while his friend hysterically laughed his arse off. 

“I’m so sorry!” said Vanessa, causing the two chaps to glance upward and see her and Ruby. She threw the cone in a rubbish bin and ran down the stairs, approaching them. “Fucking bloody hell, let me get you a towel!”

“It’s alright, I can just water it off in the ocean,” the young man said, his accent American. 

A tourist, thought Vanessa, and an incredibly handsome one, at that.

“Oh, he sure is dishy,” muttered Ruby, mirroring her own thoughts, slurping her thick drink. 

“Alright,” Vanessa gave him an awkward grimace and started to turn around. “Sorry again.”

He stopped her. “Where did you get the ice cream? Let me get you another one.” 

“But I was the one who—”

Ruby interrupted her and pointed to the plaza, “We bought them over there.”

“It was an accident, let me buy another one for you.” He grinned, never breaking eye contact. 

Vanessa felt her cheeks flush and redden. “Alright,” she repeated. 

“Clean your hair first, Ben,” remarked his friend, fighting a smile. 

“Oh, right. Thanks, Jim.”

“Ben?” she said, her heart drumming against her chest. He turned to her, his green eyes glittering under the sun. “I’m Vanessa.”

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she pressed her lips together and blushed again. 

Ruby snorted, sharing a look with Jim, and they rolled their eyes.