“I was going to say Yora would consider that once interest had been established, but—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Ice cream should be accessible to everyone.”
“Andyoudeserve not to be run off your feet,” the man tells me gruffly. “And if your supplies don’t last—”
This time it’s Zan who cuts in. “Evermore blackberries are plentiful for months, and this ice cream is made with fresh-picked, local berries.”
The man looks at him sharply. “All of them?” Then to me. “How the hells many blackberries did you pick?”
I don’t know???
I look at Zan for help.
“A lot,” he answers dryly. “But I’m confident we can find some more bushes somewhere.”
“Ha!” The man lets out a crack of laughter.
Quietly, Teren tells me, “This is a running local joke. Evermore blackberries are kind of like a weed—you can find them everywhere, and they take over everyone’s gardens given half a chance.”
“Well, I don’t know where your ice is coming from, but if you’re not worried, then give me that scoop. And for the gods’ sakes, take four coppers from me.”
Nomi takes his money and passes him the ice cream while I try to follow the transaction.
The man stares at me intently. “Next time you need another pair of boots, you know where to find me. I trust they’re working out for you?”
This man made my shoes? Or—maybe he just sells them? But given the forearms on this man I can’t imagine him as only a merchant and not a craftsman too.
“Perfectly,” Zan replies while I flounder. “Yora will be showing them off all the time.”
“Damn right. I should get back to Sunani. You all have a fine day, now.”
His presence disappears as abruptly as it arrived.
Already this is in no way what I expected.
The next customer huffs a “finally” when she gets to the front, and rather than talk to her and risk punching her in the face I step back to watch how Nomi handles the various steps of actually giving her the ice cream.
Apparently aware of this, when the next person comes to the front, Nomi hands the scoop to me.
“How long have you had this recipe?” they ask excitedly.
Uh oh.Yesterdayis probably not the answer they want.
“Yora’s been experimenting with the local berries since she arrived in town,” Zan supplies smoothly. “She went through six different versions before settling on this one. So this ice cream will be even better than the one yesterday, if you tried that.”
“Oh, I did! Amazing, I can’t wait. Can you really keep this going? Iloveice cream, and its lack is the actual hardest thing about living in Crystal Hollow in my opinion.”
Everyone laughs, like this is a joke, and not like living without ice cream wouldn’t objectively be the worst, and we reassure them and I scoop and then we move on.
“What’s this flavor called?” the next woman, old and with sharp eyes, asks.
I blink. “Blackberry?” Then pause, remembering how Zan emphasized that it was local. “Evermore Blackberry?”
The woman huffs. “Well, at least you can learn. Listen to Nomi and Teren, they know what they’re about when it comes to marketing.”
“Aw, thanks Gisa,” Teren says with a big smile. “I knew my color palette would bring you around eventually.”
Heknowsall these people, and they know him.
