Ice Cream Summer

by Megan Atwood

  When they were out of earshot, Lizzie said, “I love my sister, but she is so weird.” She gave Sarah a look and said in exactly the same voice as Gloria, “ACTING!”

  Sarah’s anger began to ease up a little. Lizzie yelled the word again, then looked down her nose at Sarah and pranced around in a circle. Sarah started laughing and then doubled over as Lizzie pretended to throw a boa around her shoulder. “Well, helloooooo, baby children,” she said in Gloria’s voice. “You are such babies with your babyness. I can’t possibly stand around with all the babies today.”

  Sarah started to snort. Lizzie joined her, and pretty soon they were both out of breath and gasping for air from laughing. Sarah felt better—they were not Gloria and Jeff. They would never “outgrow” each other. Lizzie and Sarah were best friends forever.

  Lizzie wiped her eyes and then got a serious look on her face. “I shouldn’t be so mean,” she said as she and Sarah started walking back through the town. “I’m really glad Gloria finally found the people she should be with. Friendships can’t always last forever.”

  And with that, Sarah’s good feeling melted away faster than an ice cream cone in the hot summer sun.

  CHAPTER 4

  Cotton Candy Ice Cream That Has Been Best Friends with Birthday Cake Ice Cream Forever Topped with Cherry-Flavored Medicine and Sardines. Or, Things That Shouldn’t Get Lumped Together Ever.

  The ice cream stand was going to open on Saturday, and by Thursday, Sarah felt like she was going to explode with all the waiting. Luckily, Lizzie had invited her and her mom over for dinner, which would kill some of the time. Not all, but some. Lizzie had hinted about a fun “surprise” that she knew Sarah would “die over.” Sarah hoped it was something zombie-related.

  Her mom couldn’t go because of a dumb book thing—Sarah didn’t even know what it was—but she dropped Sarah off at 5:45 and told her she’d be back at 8:30.

  “Be nice, Sarah,” her mom said as Sarah opened the door of the car to get out.

  Sarah gave her mom a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I be nice?” she said.

  Ms. Shirvani was digging through her purse. “Where did I put that . . .”

  “Mom. MOM.”

  Finally, her mom looked up. “What, honey? Oh, here it is!” She pulled out some lipstick.

  “Why wouldn’t I be nice?” Sarah shut the door and leaned down to look through the window. “It’s just Lizzie.”

  Sarah’s mom put the car into reverse. “Oh, I just know that sometimes you can be a little . . . possessive. I know you, that’s all. Remember what it’s like to be a newcomer. Gotta go, sweetie. Love you and see you soon!” She started backing up, and Sarah stood up straight, more confused than ever. But her mom was a little bit of a space cadet, so she wasn’t too surprised. Her mom was a lot like Mr. Garrison, come to think of it.

  Sarah heard a happy squeak and turned around. Lizzie was standing on the porch and waving at her excitedly. Sarah grinned and bounded to the porch, took the stairs in two huge strides (skipping two of them), and reached Lizzie.

  “Well?” Sarah asked. This was a tradition before she ate dinner over at Lizzie’s. Mr. G might be a little daydreamy, but he was one of the best cooks Sarah had ever met. She always wanted to hear about his concoctions before she actually went in to eat them. She swore it made them taste better.

  “Um, apple butter bruschetta, apple walnut salad, curried carrot and apple soup, apple rosemary pork chops, and ice cream.” Lizzie beamed at Sarah.

  Sarah wrinkled up her nose. “But it’s not even apple season yet. Why—”

  Before she could get the question out, she heard Ms. G yell, “Girls, come set the table!” Sarah and Lizzie grinned and ran inside. They each hit the banister on the stairs three times and then rounded the corner to the kitchen.

  The smells made Sarah want to do a happy dance. She was a little confused as to why there were so many apple dishes, since it wasn’t fall, but they were at an orchard, after all. So she yelled, “HEY, MR. G!” and got a mumble back, then grabbed some plates with Lizzie to put them out.

  “Are you going to tell me the surprise?” Sarah asked. She’d almost forgotten to ask, what with the delicious smells, but she loved surprises. She put down some plates and then noticed that there were way too many. “Lizzie, there are nine plates here.”

  Lizzie was folding a napkin and adding the silverware. She looked up with a twinkle in her eyes. “I know!” Then she broke out in a huge smile.

  “But there are only five of us,” Sarah said. And then the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it, darlings!” she heard Gloria yell. Sarah thought it was probably some of her new acting friends.

  Lizzie looked up. “Oh, they’re here! Sarah, I just KNOW you’re going to love them!” she squeaked.

  “Huh?” Sarah said.

  Voices rang in the hall. She heard everybody move to the dining room just as she and Lizzie put the finishing touches on the table.

  In walked two grown-up men and two kids who looked to be about Sarah and Lizzie’s age. The girl had on glasses and a spotless, prim sweater, perfectly matched with a skirt; she had huge brown eyes, medium-dark-brown skin, and curly hair in a bun on top of her head. The boy wore shorts and a Dr. Who T-shirt. He had the same skin tone and the same huge eyes, but his eyes were darting around everywhere. The girl pushed up her glasses and somehow looked down at everyone at the same time.

  “Hey, Olive! Hey, Peter!” she heard Lizzie chirp. Sarah stared at her. She knew these kids?

  Lizzie went and grabbed the girl’s hand—Olive, evidently—and brought her in front of Sarah.

  “Olive, this is my friend Sarah. Hey, Peter, come meet Sarah!” To Sarah, Lizzie said, “We met a while back when they came to visit New Amity and our orchard. They’re twins. They are SO GREAT! We had a BLAST hanging out together. They love old movies just like me!”

  Sarah felt a cold trickle of sweat travel down her back. Lizzie hadn’t told her about them. Lizzie never hid anything from Sarah. And they’d already hung out and watched movies together, WITHOUT Sarah . . . She glanced at Gloria sitting on the stairs, looking at her fingernails and paying no attention to anyone. Was this how it had started with her and Jeff?

  Lizzie went on, her voice high with excitement. “They’re here from Boston with their dads for a whole year. John works at the university in Boston and studies apples. He’s doing some kind of study with my mom and dad and the orchard. And his husband, Peter and Olive’s other dad . . . does something else. What does he do, Olive?”

  “He’s an artist. How do you do?” Olive said to Sarah.

  Sarah almost snorted. Olive sounded like she was a princess or something. A princess who looked down on everyone, clearly. Peter just kept looking around. Lizzie threaded her arm through Olive’s, and Olive smiled at her.

  Sarah did not like these two new people. She did not like them at all. They’d be here a whole YEAR?

  She stuck her hand out. “Best friend,” she said.

  “What?” Olive said.

  “I’m Lizzie’s best friend.” Sarah took Olive’s hand and pumped it hard. When she released it, Olive massaged her hand.

  Ms. G breezed in with David and John. “Sarah! I see you’ve met Olive and Peter! How wonderful! These very nice men are their dads, David and John Wu.” Sarah shook their hands but avoided their eyes. Did they have to be here for a whole year?

  “Hi, Mr. Wu and Mr. Wu,” Sarah said.

  “Oh, call me David.” David had twinkly eyes and a kind face. It was hard not to immediately like him.

  “And me, John.” John looked like Olive. He even looked down his nose the way Olive just had. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Sarah.”

  Olive spoke from near Sarah. “Tabitha, may I use your restroom?”

  Sarah did a double take. Olive called Ms. G Tabitha? SARAH didn’t even call her Tabitha. She didn’t know why, exactly. Just that she’d called her Ms. G. for as long as she could remember.

 
“Certainly, honey. It’s down that hall and to the left. You have to jiggle the handle a little.” Ms. G smiled at Olive, and Olive walked—snottily, Sarah thought—away.

  Mr. G came in, bearing a steaming tray of bruschetta. The smell wafted past Sarah, and her stomach growled.

  “In honor of your study, John, I have prepared an apple-stravaganza!” he said, grinning. “Welcome to Garrison Family Orchard, the oldest orchard in New England! Everybody, grab a seat! This is just the beginning.”

  Sarah sincerely hoped not.

  By the soup course, Sarah had had enough.

  Gloria, wearing sunglasses and a boa, only talked about her new friends. Sarah tried to send her dirty looks, but she couldn’t tell if they were received.

  Worse, though: Olive and Peter and Lizzie seemed like they’d known each other for ages.

  And no one had even asked her one question. She trailed her spoon in the soup and made the decision to NOT TALK to anyone. That would show them.

  “So, Sarah, your mom is the librarian?” David looked at her with his nice eyes and smiled. Sarah shifted in her seat. Well, maybe she could answer just one question. . . .

  “Yep! She wishes I’d read more, but it’s summer and there are too many other things to do besides sit around all day.” Sarah took a spoonful of the delicious soup and then remembered she was showing them all how mad they made her. But the taste was so good, she took another spoonful anyway.

  David raised his eyebrows. “I know what you mean.” He pointed his spoon at John. “This one keeps his nose in a book all day. I like to do things with my hands. So I make sculptures. I’m betting there will be an apple sculpture at the end of this year. You know, I always need an apprentice—you should stop by this summer if you’re interested in helping!”

  Sarah shook her head. “I can’t. Lizzie and me are running the ice cream stand!” She smiled. “And if we get enough money, we’ll get to do a zombie hayride in the fall!” Sarah got so excited, she knocked her spoon out of the soup and splattered some on her place mat.

  “A zombie hayride?” Peter stared at Sarah. “That would be so cool!” Sarah couldn’t believe he actually talked.

  Lizzie made her squeak noise, which meant “I KNOW.” So Sarah said it out loud for her. “I KNOW,” but she directed it at Lizzie.

  “Oh, these two would love something like that. Especially if it was based on a classic movie.” John elbowed Peter for emphasis.

  Olive, holding her spoon snottily (again according to Sarah), said, “Oh, yes, we’d like that very much! We tend to like campy horror films. That’s what Peter means.”

  Sarah scoffed. She didn’t think Olive had to speak for Peter. That seemed weird.

  Lizzie scrunched her eyebrows at Sarah. “Sarah doesn’t like old movies. Gloria got me into them a while back. I had so much fun watching them with Olive and Peter!” Sarah glared at everyone at the table.

  Gloria said, “Yes, one must teach one’s sister good taste,” and then swung the boa over her shoulder. Even though she had to take it off her shoulder, bring it down, and then throw it over her shoulder again to do it.

  Sarah swallowed. “It’s not that I don’t like them . . . ,” she muttered.

  Lizzie laughed. “That’s not true! Remember the last time we tried to watch them? You just kept saying how weird they talked. And then fell asleep.”

  The whole table laughed, and Sarah’s face burned. She stared at Lizzie—what was happening?

  Peter spoke up. “Olive can do those old-movie voices. I can too, but not as great as Olive.”

  Everyone—everyone but Sarah—looked at Olive expectantly. She smiled and put her spoon down. “Peter, let’s do the thing!” Peter nodded and laughed.

  David’s crinkly eyes crinkled up even more, and even John sat back. This was clearly something Olive and Peter did for their family a lot.

  Olive cleared her throat. Then she said, in one of the best old-movie voices Sarah had ever heard, “I say, what’s the meaning of this, see? There’s no such thing as zombies. If you keep spouting that hooey, we’ll put you in the booby hatch faster than you can say ‘rube’!”

  Peter said, in another amazing old-movie voice, “What’s the big idea? Youse a wiseacre or something? Shut your pie hole and beat it before I start yapping to the coppers!”

  The entire table cracked up.

  Lizzie laughed and caught Sarah’s eye. Then she took a deep breath and said in another old-movie voice, “This is a hootenanny, if I’ve ever seen one. Say, these kids ain’t half bad!” And the table roared with laughter again.

  Except for Sarah. Lizzie never did her voices for anyone else. Ever. Only for Sarah. But now it seemed like Sarah didn’t know Lizzie at all; she hadn’t told her about Gloria and Jeff, she hadn’t told her about Olive and Peter, and she suddenly didn’t seem to have a problem pointing out to the whole table how dumb Sarah was. Sarah could feel her entire friendship turning upside down. This was the worst thing ever.

  Or almost the worst.

  Lizzie went on, this time in her real voice, “Oh my gosh, Peter and Olive! I have the BEST idea. If you two don’t know what to do this summer, you should come help us at the ice cream stand! We could talk about movies and the zombie hayride all summer!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Too Many Weird Flavors All Bumping into Each Other and Ruining EVERYTHING. Plus Sprinkles.

  The day of the stand opening, Sarah had a hard time getting going.

  “Honey,” her mom said, shaking her again. “You’re going to be late. You don’t want to be late on the first day, do you?”

  “Mmfffsshsshherrbbbeerrrtttt,” Sarah said into her pillow.

  Her mom said, “That is a good point. But you can’t hide from the day forever. The day happens anyway, you know.”

  Sarah flopped over and blew a clump of her dark brown hair out of her eyes. “It’s just . . .”

  Her mom had been in the middle of getting up, but she sat back down. Sarah played with the coverlet her grandma had made for her.

  “It’s just . . . ?” her mom said softly.

  “Peter and Olive are going to ruin everything. This was supposed to be for me and Lizzie. And Lizzie went ahead and asked them to join us without asking me.”

  Her mom took a sip of coffee and looked away. “You know, your grandma and grandpa were new once. To this whole country. They came all the way from Iran. And some other people didn’t want them here either.”

  Sarah started to roll her eyes—she’d heard this before. But she immediately felt bad. She knew Nane and Papa had had a hard time. She looked down at the comforter.

  Her mom went on, “But there were kind people everywhere. And my mother decided she would concentrate on the good in the people around her. Do you think you can find out what the good things about Peter and Olive are? And concentrate on that? I know!” her mom said suddenly, even bouncing Sarah on the bed a little. Sarah eyed the coffee nervously. “You can make it seem like a mystery! Like you’re finding clues.”

  Sarah shrugged, though it was hard since she was still lying down. She blew imaginary hair out of her eyes.

  Her mom stopped bouncing and got a serious look on her face. “And can you think about what it’s like to be new?”

  Sometimes her mom and Lizzie were so much alike, Sarah could hardly believe it. She bet that was exactly what Lizzie had been thinking when she’d invited Peter and Olive. It was just like Lizzie to think about how other people felt. Remembering them laughing so hard about old movies and talking about how Sarah didn’t like them made her burn with anger.

  But thinking of Nane and Papa, Sarah thought maybe her mom and Lizzie were right. She was so confused.

  She felt awful, and mad, and sad, and scared. Her mom always told her to pay attention to her feelings. So which one was she supposed to pay attention to?

  Her mom stood up. “All right, sleepyhead. Up and at ’em! It’s time to scoop some ice cream!” She got a dreamy look in her eye. “Ooh! I know
just the book for this mystery: Trixie Belden!” She disappeared out of the room, moving so fast that some coffee sloshed on the floor.

  Sarah flipped her legs over the edge of the bed and put her feet in the fluffy rug, which now had drops of coffee on it. She could also see flecks of glitter here and there.

  “Okay,” she said to the room. “I’m going to MAKE this day be good. I’m going to see the good in”—she swallowed—“Peter and Olive. And in this whole situation.” She picked up her stuffed unicorn—Sparkles—and said, “This day is going to be great. I’m sure Olive and Peter are”—she clenched her teeth—“fine. And ice cream is good. And I am going to have the best day—and summer—ever.”

  Even Sparkles didn’t look like he believed that.

  By the time Sarah started biking to the stand, she felt two overwhelming things: mad and sad. So she rode fast and slow, then fast and slow. Her heart beat fast, and it had nothing to do with the bike ride. She wondered what she would say to Lizzie. She’d never been mad at Lizzie before. She wasn’t sure what to do.

  When she got close to the stand, Sarah saw Lizzie’s dad bustling around it. At first she thought he was talking to himself—he did that a lot—but then she heard Olive’s voice coming from the back of the stand, in the freezer part.

  Sarah started pedaling faster without realizing it. She rode up to the stand so fast and stopped so hard that her bike kicked up dirt—all over Lizzie’s dad.

  “Mr. G! I’m so sorry!” Sarah jumped off her bike and let it fall, but then she wasn’t sure what to do.

  He gave her a huge smile. “I love the enthusiasm!” He took off his glasses and wiped them down.

  Lizzie, Peter, and Olive opened the door in the back and came out. Sarah narrowed her eyes. They’d all gotten there before her. Probably all becoming best friends. Lizzie waved at Sarah, but Sarah pretended not to see it.