Page 10 of Abbott’s Lost Spoon

Spoons!

Where was the one that belonged to the little?

My mouth went dry. He was going to be here for his spoon, his special spoon for ice cream, and I had no idea where to find it. Where had I last seen it?

Thumbing my phone open, I looked at the image I’d sent to Jovan the night before. The spoon had been on the counter. Right out there where anyone could have walked off with it. I tried to think. Had I tucked it away somewhere after that? It had been a long day, and I’d been very tired. But would I have just left it there? Knowing how important it was to the little. Whose name I should have asked Jovan for. But that paled in comparison to the fact I was going to have to explain to the little that I could not be trusted to take care of their very important spoon.

In case someone put it away, I went through all the drawers and cabinets in the back rooms. Anywhere that it could logically have been stashed by a helpful employee who was tidying up. The couple people who passed through to grab things for the front had not seen it. And one of them had put away the bowls and things when they first came in. A trickle of sweat rolled between my shoulder blades and my face was hot.

I could do better than this. No decent daddy would allow this to happen to their own little—which of course he was not—or any other.

Finally giving up after checking the trash in case it had accidentally been thrown away, I sat down in despair. Nobody had taken any bags out to the dumpster yet, so there was no point in going out there. Small blessings. But it didn’t resolve the issue. I sat at my desk and opened my laptop. I searched for a similar spoon, knowing it wouldn’t be the same, even if it was the exact item, but maybe it would make up for my carelessness a small amount. That and a lifetime of free ice cream?

“Hey, boss?” I looked up to see the guy I’d asked to watch out for the little—not that he’d know that was what he was. “Is this the spoon I should give the man who is coming in?”

My jaw dropped. He held up the special spoon. “Where did you find that?”

“It was on the counter when I came in. I tucked it underneath while I sprayed it with the cleaner. So I give him this?”‘

“No!” With difficulty, I didn’t snatch it from his hand. “I mean, just give it to me, and let me know when he comes in, all right?”

“Sure.” He handed it to me, but his frown showed he’d noticed me acting a little out of character. “I’d better get up there. It’s starting to get busy.”

“All right. Thank you.” I looked around for somewhere safe to set the spoon and in the end put it in a to-go bag and marked it Do not touch. Then I had to put that somewhere. I was really looking forward to the little coming in because he could have just let me pass it along to him through our mutual friends. Probably he was just anxious to have it back, but maybe in just a teensy way he wanted to see me again?

I was still holding the bag when I heard, “Someone here to see you, boss.”

Showtime.

Or at least time to make sure I was no longer responsible for something I couldn’t seem to take care of. First, I’d walked off with it the night before then left it on the counter. Way to be responsible.

I smoothed my shirt and started for the front, butterfly wings flapping in my belly. And there he was. Unlike the night before when he’d been wearing very cute little clothes, he was dressed like anyone on the street. Jeans and a T-shirt, sneakers. The only thing that hinted at his status was the character on his shirt. A character from anime, I thought. But lots of people wore those. He was adorable as a little, and big? Hot. Casual clothes a bit tighter than strictly necessary left little to the imagination. He was waiting off to the side of the register, a plate covered in aluminum foil in his hands.

“Hi.” I approached, trying to act as if I had no expectations for this meeting. “I’m Soren.”

“Abbott. You made all the sundaes at the party.” His smile was shy, his voice soft. “They were so good.”

“Well, Karen and I did. I’m glad you enjoyed them. You like ice cream, then?”

“Well, I do when I have my…that is…”

“Oh yes, of course. I have it right here. Do you have a few minutes to sit down?”

“Okay.” He followed me to a table in the corner and sat down.

“Your spoon is right here.” I proffered the bag, and his eyes widened.

“Do not touch?”

My face heated again. “I wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost or put away with our other spoons.” I saw no reason to admit I’d lost it a second time. It had been upsetting enough for him to lose it once.

“Thank you.” He took it and held out the plate. “I made you some brownies to thank you for saving it for me. I thought it might have been thrown away or something and I-I…”

“I get it.” I accepted his offering. “It’s your favorite, and since it’s for ice cream and you’re right here at the shop, what do you say we have some? Maybe on top of a brownie with whipped cream and hot fudge. Do you like nuts?”

He did.

I went behind the counter and prepared the sundaes myself, telling the staff the brownies were not for sale or for anyone but me. Selfish? Maybe. But they could eat anything else in the shop. My policy was to let them eat all they wanted. After a few days of that, they cut way back to reasonable.