Beli is over seventy but still spends every day of summer out here manning her ice cream cart. An ice cream cart which is soon to become my refuge. “Hide me,” I squeak at Beli before diving under the cart at her feet.
Beli’s patterned skirt sways around her ankles as she goes about business as usual. I close my eyes and shut memories of that night away in a locked box until my heart slows and the sounds of Main Street filter back in. The panic fades and I think I’ve gotten away with it. That is, until Beli opens her mouth.
“Roman,” she calls across the street. “It’s been too long. Come. Say hello to me.”
My jaw drops, and I let my forehead fall against my knees.
Roman, of course, crosses the street. All I can see in the gap between the sidewalk and the cart are his deep brown work boots and it’s completely unfair that even his shoes are attractive.
“You don’t like my ice cream?” Beli asks, and I picture her barely there eyebrows pinching together as she points one of the small wooden spoons at him.
“Your ice cream is the best in Nova Scotia, Beli, you know that.” I can hear the smile in his voice, the soft edges of his British accent only adding to the charm he doesn’t know he has.
“You should come more often then,” Beli declares.
“Yes, I should. How about a scoop of caramel with tapioca?” This is Beli’s genius, ice cream meets bubble tea. It really is incredible and if I wasn’t mad at her for calling Roman over, I’d for sure be buying a tub.
The cart shifts above me as Beli makes Roman’s order and I drag my nails over loose flecks of blacktop, begging her to finish quickly and send him on his way. But no, that would make my life too easy and Beli something other than the meddling old witch she is.
“So, I hear Lola is back in town,” she says.
I freeze. Is it considered disrespectful to murder your elders? Because I’m plotting Beli’s death right now.
Roman’s feet shift. I imagine his thumb running over the pages of his book in his back pocket, like he always does whenever he doesn’t know what to say. “Yeah, I heard that too.”
“You know I always thought you two would be good together.”
My eyes bulge. I wriggle my fingers, extremely tempted to poke the deep brown skin of Beli’s flipflopped foot with my new key.
Roman fakes a cough. “She’s younger than me.”Only by seven years.“And I’m not sure how Mase would feel about that.”
Ah yes. Mason. My brother.
I dig my nails into the ground. Roman’s rejection is nothing new, but I feel my heart sink down to my stomach all the same.
“She’s a wild one for sure. Deserves a good man by her side.”
Okay, maybe I won’t kill Beli. Most people in this town see my wildness as something to tame. Something bad. They’d say Ineeda good man, only Beli would say Ideserveone.
“Yeah. She really does.” Roman’s voice softens and deepens at the same time and the combination swirls low in my core even as dampness gathers in my eyes.
I tilt my head back to stop the tears from falling at the finality in his words. Despite Beli’s overt matchmaking attempt, Roman and I will never be.
I thought I’d be over it by now. I thought six years traveling the world would be enough to get him out of my head, but I’ve been back less than a month and all the feelings I had as a teenager have come back with full force. If I’m honest, despite everything that happened the night of my eighteenth birthday, I’m not sure they ever went away.
Beli goes up on tiptoes to lean over the cart and hand Roman his ice cream. The till clinks open and I let my head drop back against the wall of the cart, finally relaxing.
“Thanks for the ice cream, Beli. It was good seeing you.” Roman clears his throat. “You too, Lola.”
My eyes flick open.
Fuck.
Me.
Maybe I will kill Beli. Death by ice cream.
Roman’s footsteps fade away and I crawl out of my now defunct hiding spot.
