Page 252 of Worth the Trip

It was simply the way home.

Months later

By ten minutes after opening, Crème & Chill Self Springs had a line wrapped past the front windows.

A little boy abandoned his mother the second he spotted Scoops & Stories along the far wall. His sneakers squeaked across the new tile as he ran toward a book with a brown-skinned astronaut on the cover, bypassing the ice cream display entirely. His mother called after him, received no acknowledgment whatsoever, then looked at me and laughed.

“Well, I guess I know what he came for.”

“Give him five minutes. The smell of waffle cones usually wins eventually.”

It took four.

He returned carrying the book beneath one arm and requesting strawberry shortcake with enough authority to suggest he had personally reviewed our menu before arrival. His mother ordered butter pecan, and they disappeared toward one of the reading nooks with two cups, one book, and a promise that he could choose another title before they left.

Around them, the shop moved with the confidence of something that already knew it belonged here. Customers filled walnut tables beneath broad front windows, laughter traveled between the bakery case and dipping cabinet, and sunlight stretched across cream tile before reaching the deep brown shelving that framed Scoops & Stories. We had carried pieces of Self Ridge into the second location without trying to duplicate it.

The warmth remained, but Self Springs had developed its own rhythm during construction. More reading nooks. A larger children’s section. Community tables along the back wall. Space for local schools to post literacy events, tutoring programs, book drives, and student artwork. One entire shelf belonged to Self Springs authors, and another displayed staff recommendations beneath handwritten cards from children who had already decided adults required help choosing good books.

Above the shelves, raised lettering carried the words Nyla and I had chosen after rejecting twelve other options and nearly falling out over font size.

SCOOPS & STORIES

Something sweet. Something worth remembering.

People had warned me that opening a second location would feel different from the first.

They were right.

What nobody told me was that different didn’t have to mean less mine.

Jasmine moved beside me, filling an order, while Tasha handled the register. When Jasmine reached toward the next stack of cups, my hand started in the same direction before I caught myself and reached for my coffee instead.

Jasmine glanced over.

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t.”

Her smile widened. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I learned from Ms. Nyla.”

“That is an unsafe educational environment.”

She laughed and returned to the order while I stepped from behind the counter with my coffee.

Nothing collapsed.

Apparently, the competent people we had hired remained competent, even when I gave them enough room to prove it.

Who knew?

“Noli.”

I turned.

Nyla stood near the end of the counter, wearing dark jeans and a Crème & Chill shirt, one hand planted against her hip while the other pointed toward the front entrance.