by Tara Brent
“I’m sorry! But, we just couldn’t help it.”
“Yeah, I know, I get it, good god woman.” Harper scowled at her friend. “You’re doing such a great job. I’m hoping that how good of a job you’re doing will keep you afloat when this gets out. Otherwise, you’re just setting yourself up for an even harsher crash back down to reality.”
“You mean if this gets out, right?”
“Oh hell no,” she said. “It’s when, not if. These things never stay hidden forever. Never ever.” She sighed. “Okay, we’re here. Be prepared to have your mind blown through the roof.”
“Yeah, I know, you won’t stop going on about it. This ice cream had better be as good as you say it is!”
“I assure you it’s better,” said Harper. She began to recite as they approached the door: “‘What is it, then, between us? / What is the count of scores or hundreds of years between us? / Wherever it is, it avails not—Distance avails not and place avails not.” She smiled at Emiko. “I too lived—Brooklyn, of Ample Hills, was mine.”
“Cute. So that’s where the name comes from then?” said Emiko as she stepped inside the original Ample Hills Creamery for the first time. “So what do you recommend?”
“Everything. All of it. The whole store.”
“Seriously though.”
“Well, try as many as you want, they won’t tell you no. Then go from there.”
After sifting through the long line and tasting countless flavors, which Emiko had to admit were every bit as divine as Harper had suggested, she settled on two scoops, one of Oatmeal Lace (brown sugar cinnamon ice cream with homemade oatmeal cookie chunks) and The Munchies (pretzel-infused ice cream with pretzels, Ritz crackers, potato chips, and mini-M&Ms all mixed in).
Harper went in a slightly different direction. “So after all that talk of how good their ice cream is and you dilute it by having them make you a milkshake that costs more than double my cone?”
“Thou shalt not speak ill of Ample Hills’s milkshakes,” said Harper darkly. Her milkshake consisted of Ooey Gooey Butter Cake (creamy vanilla ice cream with chunks of St. Louis - style butter cake) and Sweet Milk and Cookies (sweet cream ice cream with pieces of Back-To-Nature sandwich cookies mixed in). Harper tossed aside the straw and the top.
“Whatcha doin’ exactly?” inquired Emiko.
“It’s a pain in the ass to use a straw. I want it all at once.” She heaped a giant spoonful into her mouth. “Oh god,” she mumbled with her mouth full of thick milkshake, “I think I could die right now mid foodgasm.”
“I honestly don’t disagree. This is phenomenal!” said Emiko. “Oh hang on, my phone is ringing.” She scooped it out of her pocket. “Ah, erm, Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s um,”
“Oh god, is that my brother?” she snatched the phone from Emiko. “You manwhore! You just haaaaaaaaad to go ahead and do the one thing I told you not to do, huh? And in the owner’s box? And then in your office? What’s next?! The bullpen? Why stop there? How about the dugout?”
“GIVE! ME! MY! PHONE!” whisper-shrieked Emiko, snatching her iPhone back.
“Hayden? Hi, I--WOULD YOU CUT IT OUT?” Harper attempted to snatch the phone back from Emiko, who was less than pleased. “IF YOU KNOCK MY ICE CREAM ON THE GROUND I WILL BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH A CATCHER’S HELMET!!” Emiko scampered off all curfuffled, leaving Harper with a sour expression on her face.
“Everything okay over there?” asked Hayden.
“Your sister is a menace,” said Emiko.
“I mean, yeah, true. Also, why would you beat her to death with a catcher’s mask? If you’re going to use baseball equipment, wouldn’t a bat make the most sense?”
“Too cliche my love. But hi! So glad to hear from you!”
“Ditto kiddo. So this Sunday, want to go to Smorgasburg with me?”
“Where and what now?”
“It’s a big food festival thing they have every Sunday in Prospect Park during the warm months. Lots of food stands. Utterly delicious across the board, I assure you.”
“What’s with your family trying to fatten me up?” asked Emiko. “Your sister just introduced me to Ample Hills.”
“Oh god, did you get The Munchies?”
“I did indeed, along with Oatmeal Lace.”
“Fantastic combination. My favorite flavors though are Pistachio Squared and Summer of Love, but I think that the first time you’re there, Munchies is the way to go. So I’ll pick you up on Sunday? Say, 11:30 AM?”
Emiko hesitated, glancing back at her best friend. “I’m really not sure, Hayden,” she said carefully. “The whole idea here is that we be discreet, right? Isn’t a crowded place like that the very opposite of that?”
“It’s the last thing they’d expect!” he proclaimed in a dastardly voice.
“Come on!” she laughed. “I’m serious!”
“So am I, actually,” he said. “We wear casual clothes, hats and sunglasses on a sunny day? We’ll go virtually unnoticed. And while I haven’t totally ruled it out, it’s not like we’re going to make love right out on a Dodgers blanket under the trees.”
“Hardy-har,” she said. “Okay, sure, what the heck, let’s go for it!”
“See you then babe,” he replied.
Emiko turned to face a glowering Harper.
“Now, don’t be mad…”
Chapter 10
The pair of them arrived at Smorgasburg shortly after noon that Sunday.
“We should do a loop before settling in on whatever we decide to eat,” said Hayden.
“Ugh fine but I’m starving!” said Emiko. “By the way, I’m glad to see that you were able to get your cast off. Remind me how you broke it again?”
“Just a dumb accident,” he murmured, embarrassed.
“ONE DOLLA ONE DOLLA!” Interrupted a man on the side of the road selling Poland Springs.
“We’ll take two,” said Hayden. “And keep the change.” He gave the man a hundred dollar bill and strode off like nothing happened. “Trust me,” he said to Emiko, “you don’t want to rush into the first place you enjoy,” said Hayden. “Come on.”
And so they ventured into Smorgasburg, the weekly food flea market in Prospect Park.
“Oh my god, you were right!” Exclaimed Emiko. “I don’t even know where to begin! Ramen burgers, Big Mozz, Pomme Frites, Dough, Mighty Quinn’s, Lobsterdamus, Bolivian Llama Party…”
“Take it easy kid,” said Hayden. “Enjoy taking it in! No need to rush.”
“Nuh-uh. I skipped breakfast. Time for food.” She scanned about. “Maybe Mighty Quinn’s?”
“A delicious choice,” said Hayden, “But I find it better to go to the restaurant proper. Better variety.”
“Come to think about it, I think I want something fresher anyway. Hey, this place doesn’t even have a very long line!”
“That’s Tramezzini,” said Hayden. “Definitely a favorite. Go for it! I’m heading over to Carnal for a big ol’ rib. Some of the best meat I’ve ever had.”
Emiko kissed his bulging arm muscles. “Betchu a dollar I’ve had better meat,” she teased.
“Well-played,” he laughed. “Here’s a hundred bucks,” he said, handing her five twenties. “Since your line is shorter, stop by Vanessa’s Dumpling when you’re done to grab some summer rolls. They’re to die for. I recommend the brisket.”
“You got it,” said Emiko.
Once they finished up in line, they met up and found some shade under a tree. Despite his prior jest, Hayden did not bring a Dodger blanket as he did not want to draw undue attention. Emiko made sure to sit as close to him as possible, feeling the heat of his body on her skin.
“I always tell myself I’m going to get something different,” said Hayden after swallowing a massive bite, “but I can’t seem to stop ordering this same damn rib. It’s just too damn good.”
“When you know what you love you must have it,” said Emiko with a wink. “Trade bites?”
&
nbsp; “Sure,” he said, handing her his rib. Carnal’s ribs are slow-cooked for about a day before cartelizing on a coal grill and then topped with bone marrow, spring onion, salt and black pepper. The result…?
“Oh god,” said Emiko. “Sorry babe. I prefer this meat to your meat.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll have to smack your ass with the bone once I’m done with it,” he warned.”
“Promise?” she retorted.
Chuckling, he decided to take a bite of her sandwich. Tramezzini imported their bread from Venice, and in this case, her sandwich consisted of fresh mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, balsamic glaze, and pesto-mayonnaise.
“Damn girl, this tastes better than you do!”
“Knock it off!” she squealed back. “And gimme my sandwich back before you get any ideas.” They continued to enjoy their meal. “These summer rolls are fantastic too,” she said. “The brisket really brings it to another level.”
“The only ones I’ve had that are even remotely similar are at this place called Pho Vietnam in Chinatown, only they use pork instead of brisket.”
“I’ll need to try it sometime.” She yawned. “Oof! I meant to leave room for dessert but damn.”
“Oh no no no,” said Hayden. “You ARE having dessert. I’ll be right back.” And with that, he was gone. Emiko killed time on her phone. She decided to google herself. It seemed though that the hubbub had died down. Emiko decided that was a good thing. The real goal was to normalize someone like her working that kind of job. She wondered when the next female announcer might rear her head.
Moments later, Hayden was back with two sizable ice cream sandwiches. “So in theory,” he said, handing her one of the sandwiches, “This one here is for you, and this other one is mine. But honestly, whichever you prefer is yours. Yours is The Goodwich—oat chocolate chunk, sea salt, drizzle fudge, and vanilla ice cream. Mine is The Crispy—caramel rice crispy cookie and vanilla ice cream.”
“Both sound divine,” said Emiko, “But I think you chose correctly.” She took a bite. “YUP. Yes. Yes you did!” It wasn’t long before they had finished their ice cream. “I think that if Ample Hills Creamery and The Good Batch teamed up, they could take over the world.”
“No doubt,” said Hayden.
“That said, UGH!!!” moaned Emiko, holding her stomach. “I’m pregnant, and you’re the father.”
“WHAT?!” cried Hayden, alarmed.
“It’s a food baby,” she explained. “And you fed me all of the food. I shall name our food baby Consuelo and dress it in corduroy overalls.”
“Jesus Emi you scared the crap out of me!” said Hayden.
“Don’t try that on me. The way I’m feeling, you may literally scare the crap out of me!”
“Ew. Also, I’m serious! It’s not like we use a condom. Like… ever.”
“Eh, I’m on the pill, plus I made you take those STD tests after our first impulsive hookup. Hottest sex ever, sure, but like damn. But like I said! I’m on the pill. You know,” she stared wide-eyed at him, “unless I… ‘FORGET’ to take it…!”
“Jeez kid don’t even joke about that,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re gonna drive me into an early grave! All that said,” he continued slowly, “We’re not done here yet.”
Emiko’s eyes went wide. “Hayden, YOU are going to drive ME into an early grave! I can’t eat another bite!”
“Don’t worry, it’s not food. Come on, walk with me.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet and led her back into the dense crowd. “Luckily for us, the line is long enough that you might have digested just enough to enjoy this,” he said.
Emiko groaned. “Oh wow, that does look good, but I assure you, it’ll be a week before I’ll digest all of this.”
After about ten minutes of waiting, they made it to the front of the line at John’s Juice. They make their juice fresh there and serve it right inside the very fruit they made it with, hollowed out then impaled with a straw. Hayden ordered himself the pineapple, whereas Emiko had watermelon.
“It’s so good, but I’m so full!” lamented Emiko, guzzling. “But it’s so good!” She groaned. “BUT I’M SO FULL!!”
“You good there Emi?”
“Not especially,” she said. “Also, we are NOT having sex later. Nuh-uh. I’ll die.”
“That’s for me to decide,” said Hayden sternly.
“Ugh… I love how commanding you are, but I might die.”
“Then I’ll bang your corpse.”
“YUCK EW GROSS WHY!”
“Kidding! You’ll feel better tonight, after the show.”
Emiko stopped walking abruptly. “What show?”
“Oh nothing much,” he said. “Just this musical I thought you might like.” He smirked. “It’s in the Richard Rodgers Theater.”
“Richard Rodgers? That’s familiar… why do I…? OH!! NO. YOU. DIDN’T!”
“Damn right I did,” he said. “We’re seeing Hamilton tonight.”
Emiko squeaked. Literally, all that could emerge from her all-too excited lips was a single squeak. Then, she jumped into his arms and kissed him hard. “I love you to pieces,” she said. “Every bit of you.”
“And me you,” he said.
They departed from there, making their way back toward the subway. As they strolled, a couple of pompous-looking guys strolled past wearing flat-brimmed dodger caps. Their eyes went wide as they saw Emiko and Hayden and they began to snicker. When they passed next to Emiko, the closest one fake-sneezed the word “Slut!”
Emiko and Hayden whirled around. “Excuse me?” demanded Emiko.
“Oh nothing, just allergic to library bullshit,” sneered the boy who fake-sneezed, his friends snickering behind him. One of them was messing around on his phone.
“You want to rethink the last minute of your life, homie?” asked Hayden in a menacing tone.
The boy faltered slightly. Scowling, he said, “You know, I thought about burning your Jersey when you took over the Dodgers, but I finally followed through when you let that bitch announce our games. Can’t believe they let a nigger and a whore ruin my favorite team! So take your ho and get the fuck out of our faces!” And with this, he made the mistake of shoving Hayden.
Hayden caught the boy by the hand and squeezed hard. Emiko winced as she heard a crunch just before Hayden swept the young man’s feet out from under him. As Hayden still had the brat’s hand in a vice grip, he twisted the guy’s arm behind his back and pressed his knee down on the side of the idiot’s face. Of course, his friend was filming the whole thing, probably directly to a live stream.
“Now you keep your goddamned mouth shut, ya hear?” Hayden looked up at the camera phone.
Emiko shifted uncomfortably. “Hayden,” she said, “this is a bit much, isn’t it? Can’t we just go?”
“Not until I’ve had my say!” he snapped, still staring into the iPhone. Emiko wrung her hands; sure, she was happy to have him defend her, but like this…?
Hayden cleared his throat. “So for those of you watching at home, this young genius verbally abused both me and my associate, specifically engaging in racist and sexist hate speech before physically assaulting me by way of shoving me, at which point I defended myself and subdued my attacker for fear of further attack. Now,” he continued, redirecting his attention to the jerk on the ground, “for me to let your ass up off the pavement, you’re gonna have to apologize to Ms. Lindberg first, and then also promise not to do anything else that’ll require me to exert myself. I’ve got a hot date and a show to get to tonight plus I am full as hell so I do not want to have to break a sweat beating your ass down. We clear?”
“Fuck you!” screeched the guy on the ground. “This is Trump’s America! We can do what we want!”
“Maybe it is, but I’m even richer than his Soviet-owned ass pretends to be. So what’s it going to be then, eh?” Hayden leaned forward a bit, pressing more weight on the guy’s head while further twisting his arm.
After squeali
ng again, he said “Fine! Sorry! Jesus! It was just a fucking joke now get your hands off me!”
But just as Hayden was about to do so, Emiko saw flashing red and blue lights and a quick siren. Her stomach turned, and when she faced Hayden, she saw real fear in his eyes.
The cop in the passenger seat came out first, gun drawn. “Sir! Hands up and on the ground right now!”
“Hey!” screamed Emiko. “He did nothing wrong! It was these other clowns who came at us! We were just walking and—”