Free Rocky Road by Rose Kent Page B

elevator.
    Jordan went straight to the bedroom when we got in, and hestayed there. He was wise enough to stay clear of me. I knew the FrankenJordan episode was only partly due to his being sugared up. He was overwhelmed by all the change in our lives too. He had a new home, a new school, and a new life—and with Ma, who knew what would hit next. I wanted to talk to him, to set him straight that things would settle down, but the words weren’t there. And I was tired too.
    Ma returned to the apartment an hour later, her arms full of leftover ice cream and toppings. Her nose was red like she’d been outside. “Phew, conducting market research requires active listening! My ears took in a boatful about ice cream likes and dislikes. These seniors sure aren’t a bland vanilla bunch. The funkier the flavor, the higher they rate it, with Mississippi mud and turtle cheesecake tying for the top spot.”
    “Have you been serving ice cream this whole time?”
    “No. Afterward, Chief talked me into snowshoeing with his friends. I couldn’t turn ’em down since they helped me out. A sporty ol’ gal named Veronica had an extra pair of snowshoes, and we clomped our way through a two-mile trek behind the apartment complex. Chief keeps a speedy pace. He’s better at snowshoeing with one leg than I am with two!”
    I stared at her hard. “You didn’t tell me you were buying that ice cream shop on Wednesday.”
    “Must’ve slipped my mind,” she said, sticking the whipped cream in the fridge. “Tell ya what, I’ll make it up to you. You’re about to be the first person in Schenectady to hear the name for our new shop. Drumroll, please…. Introducing A Cherry on Top!”
    “Cute,” I said. I did like that name, but I still didn’t like the idea of buying a business.
    Ma wiped the messy hot-fudge jar with a cloth. “Glad you mentioned about Wednesday, ’cause I need you to watch Jordan after school so I can go back downtown for the closing. There’ll be lots of paperwork for me to sign at the bank.”
    But Wednesday was Peer Mediation Club. I’d been thinking about Gabby’s offer a lot. Maybe she was right; I might be good at peer mediation. It was worth a try. “I can’t do it on Wednesday,” I said. “I’ve got plans.”
    Ma wasn’t listening. Her work papers were spread across the counter, and she was talking to herself using business lingo about advertising and promotions.
    “Ma, I’m busy on Wednesday. I’m joining peer mediation, and that’s when it meets. You’re always saying I should get involved.”
    “This is a family priority, Tess. You saw your brother running hog-wild today. I’ll never get through the closing if he’s there.”
    “Why can’t you get a job at Thrifty King?” I asked. “You said yourself deli pays the best in a grocery store, and you’ve got experience as a meat slicer.”
    “Been there, done that. Working for a fat-cat corporation that doesn’t give a hoot if I slice off my finger isn’t my idea of the American Dream. Owning my own shop is. I’ve got six weeks to come up with a plan to make this shop the best thing that hit Schenectady since General Electric opened its factory.”
    Ma’s eyes flickered like she was a kid about to jump on the merry-go-round. She showed no fear about messing up again. ButI knew plenty of reasons to pass on this ice cream shop. I’d read the headlines in the
Daily Gazette
. Nobody shopped downtown Schenectady anymore. They went to malls like Crossgates and Colonie Center. Vacant buildings were scattered everywhere, just like the trash in the streets. And families were tightening their belts on account of the economy.
    Besides, what would happen when the next Shooting Stars sent Ma soaring and then crashing—who’d scoop ice cream
then
? We’d end up broke, homeless, and frostbitten. I thought about Pete and his dad. I bet they never imagined life’s winds would blow them into a trailer without indoor plumbing.
    Ma didn’t seem to