Ever clutched his vibrating phone like a relay baton as he ran the last fifty feet. 8:59am and of course, Logan calling.

  “Hi… Logan…” Ever tilted the phone away as he caught his breath.

  “Ever, hey.” His voice croaked through.

  “Are you OK?” Ever asked. He gulped down some air, keeping the phone an inch away from his face.

  “No, I’ve woken up with a migraine. I don’t think I’m going to be able to come in.” Ever vaguely remembered Taylor mentioning that her uncle had really bad headaches every now and again. “Do you think you’ll be able to run the shop by yourself?”

  “Yeah, of course!” He cleared his throat. Didn’t want to sound too happy. “Of course. I’ll be OK.”

  “Alright, thanks. Just give me a call if anything happens.” Before Ever could say goodbye, he had hung up the phone.

  —--

  It was the lightest that Ever had felt in weeks. The first thing he did was turn on the radio to the FM station that they played all through the summer. Then quick as can be, he finished up the rest of the set up routine: unstacking tables and chairs, taking them outside, sorting out the ice creams and sorbets and of course turning on the lights.

  There was one more thing to do. Ever got a cup from the back room, filled it with water then brought it over to the pot plant. Technically, it was still a pot of dirt; nothing green had sprouted yet. Was he doing something wrong? He carefully sprinkled the water around the soil. He shifted it further along the windowsill; the sunlight didn’t seem to want to hang around as long anymore.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He took his position in the service area and looked up at the clock on the wall. 9:32. Still early, but there definitely were fewer customers coming in the morning in fall than in summer. He drummed his fingers on the bench, humming the vapid pop song on the radio.

  His phone buzzed.

  He pulled it out, looked at the screen and smiled. A message, not a call. From Zoe, not from Logan. It was “????” packed in a bubble underneath the supposedly flirtatious text she had sent an hour or so ago.

  Now was the perfect time to answer. He placed the phone down and surveyed all the flavors in front of him. His eyes fell on the nut options - and he remembered.

  “Didn’t I already say that you were complex and sweet like pistachio?”

  “Yeah but I don’t want to be pistachio”

  “So what do you want to be?”

  “I want u 2 tell me”

  Customers came in - finally. He slipped the phone into his pocket. It was a husband and wife, coming out on a day off. They’d heard of the limited time flavors and got a cone of cinnamon and a cup of pumpkin spice. After they left, he took his phone out again and began tapping.

  “You are pumpkin spice.”

  She didn’t respond for half an hour or so - probably seeing a patient. The phone was out of his pocket and back in his hand in seconds when it buzzed.

  “Since when did u hav pumpkin spice??”

  “Limited time only, until the end of October.”

  “Alright, I’m coming next week.”

  Ever brought up the grid of emojis and selected his response.

  “??”

  He was about to put his phone away when a new message came in - from an unknown number.