Chapter 1: The Ice-Cream Parlor

One-and-a-half Years Later

“What do you want, the ‘Big Dipper’?”

“I don’t know, I’m thinking about it.”

“You realize that one scoop here is like a bowlful, right?”

“Yep.”

“And the Big Dipper is seven scoops…?”

“Yep.”

“You’re dumb!”

This conversation between my best friends Jenny and Bill was yelled across the din of the most crowded ice-cream parlor I had ever been in. It was also the most pink ice-cream parlor I had ever been in. And not like faded pink— bubblegum pink. Besides the five or six thousand people crowding the parlor and shouting there was the sound of 50’s diner music bum-bum-bum-bumming away in the background. And it was freaking hot. The menu also had an indecent number of options on it. I much preferred familiar shops where I could order the same thing I had ordered for my entire life but Izby’s Ice-Cream Parlor had just opened yesterday and of course we had to try it out.

“I almost forgot this many people spent their summers in Ogunquit,” I said, interrupting my friends and my own internal dialogue about which ice-cream to pick.

“No kidding.”

“I’ve never even seen some of them before.”

“You know, it stresses me out how many new people have been showing up around here the past couple summers. In a few more summers we’re gonna be a full-blown tourist town.”

“I don’t know,” said Bill. “I think it’s just cause the ice-cream parlor just opened. People might be visiting from Wells or something.”

“Well, I still hope it doesn’t change things around here.”

“It won’t,” said Bill.

I genuinely hoped he was right. For most people Ogunquit was a place where they spent their summers in little pastel-colored condos and the Clamshell Inn only yards away from the beach but for me it was a permanent home. I loved the summers when friends I only saw during the season would come from Wells and other nearby towns to stay. We would hang out on the beach and have bonfires every night and dance on the pier and go to the movies. But it was also nice when everyone left again and it was just me, Bill and Jenny like it had been since we were seven, eight and nine years old. My best friends were really works of art. Jenny was spazzy and athletically built but super pretty. She had big brown eyes and super naturally long eyelashes, her mouth was big and always well saturated with lip-gloss. She typically wore shirts that we either cropped or low cut (or both) and long baggy jeans with sneakers. She wore her thick dark hair down or in a ponytail on the back of her head and wore long dangly earrings with butterflies on the ends. Jenny’s communication was blunt but pleasantly genuine and she was loyal as heck. Her parents owned “Dance Your Heart Out” which was pretty much exactly what it sounds like; a dance studio with faded signage in some publisher font where the same old people who had taken classes for the past five years showed up on weeknights to swing-dance and fox-trot. During the summer the school sometimes attracted some tiny ballerinas but they were all gone come September. Jenny taught the summer ballet classes and samba classes the rest of the year. The best thing about Dance Your Heart Out was that it provided the Ogunquit Lions club with a community of proficient dancers to attend their annual summer dance on the pier. The Ogunquit Jazz band would play oldies and we would all dance under a big white tent with twinkly lights and cheap champagne.

Bill was a pretty average looking person who usually wore plain white t-shirts and jeans without a belt. He had some scrappy blond hair and hazel eyes, and he wore glasses that were almost perfectly round but not quite. He was not tall but not short, not hot but not ugly. The perfect guy to be friends with for your whole life and not have to worry about any drama… well, mostly. Bill wrote for the “Ogunquit Times” which was essentially obsolete other than the comics (which Bill wrote). He also wrote editorials and the news. I honestly don’t know who wrote the rest of the paper. But apparently enough people still read the paper for Bill to have saved up some money and have enough left over for $11 ice-cream sundaes. I knew he had saved up some money because he was going to start college in the fall and had mentioned several times the fact that he didn’t have to take out any loans.

I was tall and thin, with big blue eyes that some people said were green (“the color of the sea” according to Bill) and long blond hair that some people said was brown which I wore in two long braids most of the time. I dressed in big baggy tshirts and old shorts that didn’t give me wedgies and I wore Birkenstocks for as much of the year as was possible. My nose had tiny freckles on it and my only embellishments besides that were gold hoop earrings which I never removed. During the year I commuted to Wells to nanny for a family of five kids but the summers were reserved for free time and long sunshiny days in little Ogunquit.

And this was pretty much how the three of us had been since the first summer we all lived in Ogunquit.

“Well, I just hope all these tourists actually leave when the summer ends. Last year there were lingerers.”

Bill and Jenny both raised their eyebrows. “Come on…”

I blushed and bit my lip to stop from smiling. “Shut up.” I flicked my menu in Bill’s face.

“We both know there’s at least one person you wish would never leave.”

“Okay, come on guys.” I gave a pleading look.

“Mr. Saxy…” Bill snickered.

“Shut up.” I couldn’t help but giggle a little.

“I know you were hoping he was gonna be here. I’ve seen you check the door like every two seconds since we got here,” jabbed Jenny.

Bill was laughing again.

“I have not,” I laughed. I totally had.

“I mean, him Frank and Petey did say they were coming later,” Bill said. “I saw them on the beach this morning.”

“Really?” I said, glancing down at my menu and trying not to sound over-eager. But Jenny caught it.

“Oh my gosh,” she laughed, “your pupils dilated so big.”

Jenny read all these dumb girl magazines full of quizzes and articles with titles like, “What Kind of Kisser are You?” and“How to Find Out Who Your Crush has a Crush On.” Ever since she read that one she had been obsessed with watching people’s pupils to see if they dilated when someone mentioned whoever she thought they had a crush on. I had considered wearing sunglasses for the rest of my life but I figured Jenny would still imagine she had seen my pupils dilate so I decided against it.

“What?!” Bill laughed, “her pupils?”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s obsessed with them,” I said.

“No, but seriously, if I mention Michael’s name they get so big— SEE!”

“Wait, say it again…” Bill leaned closer to me. They were both sitting across the table from me staring into my eyes.

“Michael,” said Jenny.

I slammed my eyes shut, but it was too late. Both my friends were whooping and hollering so much that a couple of the yelling guests in the parlor actually stopped yelling and looked up.

“I want to try it!” Bill laughed.

“No, stop it,” I said, giggling and putting my hands over my eyes.

“Hey look, it’s Michael,” Bill said, and apparently my pupils sent Jenny and Bill into another fit of laughter.

“Oh my gosh, stop it…” I took my hands down for one second, and they both sprang on me with another mention of the blessed name. Suddenly my eyes widened, pupils and all. “No, seriously, stop it,” I whispered harshly. “GUYS. SHUT UP.” I growled this through my teeth. My cheeks were getting hot and I was getting genuinely angry. “HE’S IN THE BUILDING, HE’S RIGHT BEHIND—“

“Hey guys,” said Michael, sliding into the booth right next to me. I felt my throat get hot and my heart start to speed up. Jenny and Bill immediately stopped laughing and went dead silent. Saying something fell to me.

“Hey,” I said, sounding like I was acting in a high school play.

“What’s up?”

“Just trying to decide which of these flavors to get,” said Jenny, pulling it together real fast. I had to hand it to her, she knew when to stop joking around and play it cool.

“Dude, these look amazing,” said Michael, leaning towards my menu and breathing so close to my face that some of my flyaways blew in the wind.

Jenny’s eyes were fixed on her menu but I caught her eyebrows rising in my peripheral.

“What are you getting?” he asked me.

“Um…” for whatever reason I felt frantic to have an answer other than ‘I don’t know’ so I said the first words to pop into my head. “I was kind of thinking the Big Dipper.”

“What?!” Bill laughed, not realizing it had been an accident. Jenny must’ve kicked him under the table cause he shut up after that.

“Mm.. sounds good, sounds good,” said Michael. God bless him for being so oblivious.

“I’m kind of thinking a hot fudge sundae, you know, keep it simple.”

My throat got tight. That had been what I was leaning towards before my slip-up but now it would be cringey to change to the exact same thing Michael was ordering.

“Hey ya’ll!” A voice came sailing down from above as a waitress approached the table. She was a plump dainty girl about our age wearing a classic pink button down mini-dress and apron. She and had long bubblegum-pink acrylics and little sparkly pink pumps. Her hair was Dolly-Parton blond and her accent was Dolly-Parton southern and she had big baby-blue eyes and the fairest skin I’d ever seen. “Welcome to Izby’s.” (“Izbay’s” she said) “I’m Maybelle and I’m gonna be helpin’ ya’ll out today! What can I get started for y’all?!” Her voice was like a rollercoaster that ended every sentence with an upward inflection and an exclamation point.

Nobody answered for a minute and then classy Michael exhaled like he had just taken a drink and said, “I think I’m gonna take one hot fudge sundae. And a water please.”

“Ooonee… haaawt… fudggge… sundaaaee…” Maybelle dragged out the words in a painful drawl as she scrawled it out on her notepad. Her long nails wrapped around the pencil similar to the way a toddler’s fingers might have. She looked up at Jenny, her falsies framing her widened eyes like a cartoon explosion.

“Umm… I think I’m gonna go with a malt,” Jenny said, and gave a polite smile. “Strawberry.”

“Alriiight,” said Maybelle, scrawling again.

I made a quick wide eyed “I’m cringing” expression at Bill and he shot back a knowing smile.

“And you?” She said to me.

“Um… a Big Dipper,” I said, dying inside as I followed through on my declared sundae-of-choice.

“Alriiight—“ Maybelle stopped herself and made eye contact again, “You know our Big Dipper comes with seven large scoops, alright?” Her voice was just a tad to condescending for comfort.

“Yes.” I said, hoping Michael would not comment.

“Dude,” he said, nodding with a surfer grin and his eyes wide like he was impressed. “Seven Scoops…Nice…”

“Alright then,” said Maybelle. “One Big Dipper.”

This time she looked up at Bill with her Lucille Ball eyes.

“I’ll just take a bowl” he said, and gave me a little smile. “I’m gonna share the big dipper with her.”

I smiled. Good old Bill making me look like two percent less of a pig.

He leaned across the table while Maybelle wrote this down.

“I’ll split the bill with you too,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” I said, avoiding making an obvious pun out of his name because he was being so sweet at the moment.

“Alrighty then,” Maybelle said (hopefully for the last time), “I have one hot fudge sundae, one strawberry malt and one big dipper, is that gonna be it for y’all?”

“Um, my water,” said Michael with a smolder.

“Aw, of course, I’m so dumb,” Maybelle said, tapping Michael on the shoulder with a giggle and quickly adding water to her notes. “You have such a nice smile,” she said to Michael.

“Aw, thanks,” Michael said, flashing it again.

“Of course!” said Maybelle and the inflection rose even higher than it had previously. I had been trying to make up my mind whether she was annoying or not but after this I pretty much decided she was. “Let me take those menus for y’all,” she said, collecting the menus from us and stacking them in her arms. “Alright, I’ll be back in just a bit with that ice-cream!”

She walked away with her little butt swinging back and forth in her mini dress.

“Oh my gosh,” I laughed when she was gone. “Is anyone else half-deaf?”

Jenny laughed and put her face in her hands.

“That was quite the accent,” Bill said. “I liked her though.”

This made me even more annoyed. Bill liked everyone even if he could clearly see their flaws.

“Yeah, she must be from down south or something,” Michael said, leaning back in the booth.

I noticed his arm was only like half a centimeter away from mine. There was no reason for him to sit that close. Was this finally gonna be the summer he liked me back? I didn’t dare get my hope up again, but he was being pretty friendly.

Let me describe him really quick. Michael was tall with perfectly smooth olive skin, a curly brown crew-cut and an undeniable west-coast air about him. He lived in California with his mom for most of the year but came out to Maine during the summers to stay with his dad who maintained the old lighthouse in Ogunquit. He knew how to surf and could almost always be found shirtless on the beach either throwing something or balancing on something. He also played the alto saxophone for the Ogunquit Jazz Band and new how to make guacamole. His eyes were golden brown and his lips were the perfect shape.

“Hey!” Suddenly his arm flew up and he waved across the room, “it’s Frankey and Pete!”

Pete and Franky were two of the other jazz band members. Pete was Michael’s younger brother who played the drums and Franky played tenor sax. They just looked like typical musician boys, no need to explain them other than that they exuded a sort of self-conscious confidence that made them sway back and forth anytime they walked.

“Aaaay,” said Franky, “what’s up guys?”

“Hey,” said Jenny, scooting over to make room in the booth. Michael also scooted closer to me, closing the distance between my arm and his. His skin was so soft and warm it gave me a little shiver.

“Did you guys order?”

“Yep, we just did,” Jenny said. “Also, you’re gonna have to move when Tony gets here.” She gave Franky a sassy glance.

“Okay,” he laughed, “no prob.”

Tony was Jenny’s Spanish basically-boyfriend who had been flirting with her for six months without actually making any definite confessions of love. But everyone knew not to get between them even though they both still flirted with anyone else even slightly attractive.

“What have you guys been up to?” I asked, hoping to make some conversation, which was more my style than random banter and flirting.

“Ah, not much,” said Franky (Pete didn’t talk much). “We were up at the top of the lighthouse this morning trying to knock down that old balloon that’s been stuck up there for weeks.”

Bill laughed. “It’s still up there?”

“Well, not anymore. Pete finally had the idea to shoot a pellet gun at it.”

“Nice…”

Everyone laughed half-heartedly and that was the end of that conversation.

“Hey, after we finish our ice-cream we should all go down to the beach and play frisbee,” Michael said.

“That would be fun,” I said, even though I sucked at Ultimate Frisbee and it was like 92 degrees outside.

Just then I noticed Maybelle was coming towards us with a tray holding all three of our orders—a better name for the Big Dipper really would have been “the leaning tower of icecream.”

“Wow,” I said, casting a glance at Bill. He gave a grin that looked sort of like the beginnings of an evil chuckle. I noticed a few people eyeing our booth with suspicion as the ridiculous sundae came closer.

“Is that one of yours?!” Franky gawked.

“Yeah,” said Bill, “you guys can honestly share it with us if you’d like. That way you don’t have to wait to order— I mean, it’s super busy.”

Pete and Franky gave each other a half-glance. “I mean, sure,” Franky said, but was interrupted by Maybelle saying, “Alriiiight! Here ya’ll go! I’m sorry about that wait!” She stepped forward but her ankle turned in her shoe at the wrong moment and she lost her balance. The top half of the Big Dipper landed on the edge of the table and splattered onto Frank, Jenny and Bill’s laps.

“SHOOOT!” Franky yelled and stood up. Jenny let out a little scream. Bill had gotten the worst of it with a full scoop in his lap. Poor Maybelle looked like she was going to cry.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” She ripped about fifty paper napkins out of the container in the middle of the table and dumped them on the melted puddle of mint-chip.

“Hey, that’s aright!” Bill said, laughing a little. “We were going to go down to the beach anyway, I guess I’ll just have to jump in the ocean.

Jenny and Frank seemed a little less chill with the situation but Maybelle looked so devastated it was hard to be mad. We were all grabbing napkins to help wipe it up and she was apologizing profusely when with no warning she just burst into tears.

“Hey, it’s really okay,” I said, “don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she kept saying over and over again.

Everyone at the booth was trying to reassure her while she tried in vain to stifle her tears. A bunch of people were looking over, and so Bill said, “Hey, why don’t you have a seat for a minute?” He gave Jenny a look and she and Frank scooted out of the bench to make room.

Maybelle looked at Bill with a very pink face, half pink from tears, half from the heat. “Oh I—“ But Bill had a very kind face and it was hard to disobey when he talked like that— I knew form experience. So Maybelle sat down, and when she did, she finally started to calm down. I handed her a clean napkin to wipe her nose.

“Seriously don’t worry about the ice-cream,” Bill said.

“You are so nice,” she said snottily, looking around at all of us. “I honestly have been trying to run this place all by myself. Daddy’s supposed to be helping me but—he hasn’t been feeling well so I’ve been trying to manage it all myself—I’m not very good with crowds and I never expected we’d be this busy on the first week…” she looked around the busy parlor and looked like she might faint.

“Sheesh,” said Michael.

“I think anyone in your shoes would be losing their mind,” Jenny said. “This place is popping.”

Maybelle gave a little laugh and glanced at her wristwatch, “Well,” she said, “Look on the bright side, we close in twenty minutes…”

“You should come to the beach with us,” Bill said. I had been hoping he wouldn’t say that. If she came we wouldn’t be able to debrief from this bizarre situation. I really wanted to be nice to Maybelle but she also really annoyed me. I was not good with airheads.

“Oh…I couldn’t, I mean, the shop is a mess… and I have to balance the accounts…” “You should at least come for a little bit,” Bill said, “I think you need a little break.”

Everyone nodded and agreed with him.

“Well…” said Maybelle and smiled just a little bit. “I guess you’re right…”

“Hey, why don’t you guys go ahead,” Bill said. “I can stay and help wrap things up here and we’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Jenny, who was holding her sticky hands like a surgeon in front of her body. Jenny hated being dirty, I could tell she was pretty annoyed.

“Yeah, alright,” Michael said, “come on guys.”

“Are you sure you’re fine to stay here Bill, you’re like the stickiest one?” I laughed. It was really a rhetorical question because I didn’t want to miss out on any time with Michael. However, Bill was my best friend and I felt bad leaving him coated in ice-cream with Dolly Parton junior.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. He gave that kind puppy smile again.

Me, Jenny, Michael and the boys headed out the door of Izby’s. “See you in a bit!”