by Amsy
A busy downtown street in New Orleans came to life with tourists and townies walking along the street. Musicians sang and played their instruments on street corners as small crowds gathered around to listen to them pour out their soul for a quarter. Teenagers and college students entered clubs as they opened for the night, and couples strolled the streets hand in hand.
The night sky was clear and the sun had already set. A small breeze offered little relief to the summer’s heat, but it also provided business for J.T.’s Ice Cream Parlour. Customers lined up out the door as they waited for the line to move. Inside the handful of young workers scrambled behind the counter to fill orders. Blues music poured out of the radio from behind the counter. It was coming from a small radio on top of one of the freezers, but was drowned out whenever a blender was turned on and interrupted by the bells on the door that jingled whenever a customer entered or left.
“One large rocky road in a cup, and a vanilla cone.” A young man said as he handed the order to a woman. He had dark blonde hair covered by a backward baseball cap and blue eyes. He punched a couple keys on the register. “That will be three seventy two.”
She handed the young man four dollars. “You guys really have a great business in here. Keep the change.” She told him smiling, then turned and walked away.
“Thank you.” He called after her, then slightly rolled his eyes. He placed the money in the drawer and the handful of change in the tip cup.
He walked back to the other end of the counter where customers were waiting to be served. He almost collided with a young woman as she turned around quickly with a milk shake. He immediately froze and she regained her balance before the pink liquid added to the smears of chocolate and strawberry ice cream already on her white apron.
“Sorry Mike.” She told him.
“It’s ok Tiff.”
She walked past him to the register and placed the shake in a carrier with three others. Next to the carrier was a bag with two large ice cream cups. “Thirteen seventy five please.” She told the man after she calculated the total. As he dug into his pocket she wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her wrist. Her dark auburn bangs then settled back down onto her forehead above her blue eyes which were shadowed by the brim of her white hat. It had already been a long night, and it was only half over. J.T.’s always had great business, and was probably the best ice cream shop in New Orleans since it attracted the tourists. She just never recognized how busy until she first began working there two months ago. The man handed her the exact amount of money and grabbed his order.
“Thank you.” She told him with a smile. He gave her a quick smile, then walked out the door. With an exhausted sigh she made her way back to the other side behind the counter where customers were waiting.
A couple hours later down the street from the ice cream shop a crowd walked out of a club. The street light in front of the club had burnt out, and the only light shinning down on them was from the moon and the blue neon sign reading Thelma’s Blues Bar. A young man quickly walked out from the crowd and began to make his way along the sidewalk. He swung his guitar case onto his shoulder.
“Billy, great job tonight!” Someone called. He turned around and the blue light reflected on his long brown hair. He saw a crowd of young girls.
“We love you Billy!” A couple of them called in unison, then laughed. He gave them a wave and chuckled. “Thank you.” He then turned back into the shadows of the night and continued walking.
Inside J.T.’s Ice Cream Parlour Mike and Tiffany were cleaning up behind the counter as the last customers were leaving.
“What a night.” Mike said as he sat down on a stool behind the counter and removed his hat. Tiffany glanced over at him. “Go home Mike, I’ll lock up.”
“No, it’s ok...”
“Mike, there’s no sense in both of us staying. I just have to clean the lobby then I’m out of here. Go home and get some sleep.”
He stood up, untied his apron and tossed it on the stool. “Thanks Tiff. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Night.”
He walked out of the front door and she watched the door close. When she was sure he was gone she grabbed a stool and placed it in front of a freezer and stood up on it. She turned up the radio and blues music flowed out. She climbed back down satisfied with the music and grabbed a cloth. She then walked out from behind the counter and danced into the lobby where she began to wipe the tables.
The door opened and the bells on the door jingled. She didn’t notice and continued to dance.
The customer walked into the lobby and as she turned around she gasped in surprise. Her face immediately turned red as a smile appeared on the customer’s face. He was a young man with long brown hair and clear blue eyes. He had his guitar slung over his shoulder and an amused smile appeared on his face. She tried to swallow her embarrassment but she felt her face grow hot.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I just got done with a gig and...” He stopped when he saw the exhausted look on her face and his entertained smile faded. “You’re obviously closing, never mind.” He turned around and began to walk away.
“No wait.” She called back momentarily forgetting about her embarrassment. He turned around as she walked out from the lobby and behind the counter. “What can I get for you?”
He looked at her for a moment to see if she was serious.
“Believe me, I make sundaes and shakes better than I dance.” She assured him with a quick smile.
“I hope not, I thought you were pretty good.”
She smiled again. “What will it be?”
He glanced over the menu boards on the wall behind her and walked closer to the counter. “What do you suggest?”
“Well, we have the best floats this side of New Orleans.”
“Then I’ll have one of those.”
She nodded and grabbed a metal cup and scooped three spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream in. She then walked to the soda machine.
He took a seat at a stool across from the counter and watched her.
“Great music.” He commented.
She quickly turned around. “Thanks. Do you like the blues?” She then turned away from him and back to the soda fountain.
“I guess you can say that.” He said glancing around.
She quickly blended the float together and poured it into a cup and placed a lid on it. She then grabbed a straw and walked out from behind the counter and placed it on the small table in front of him. She then took a seat at the stool across from him at the table. She wearily removed her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. He watched her quietly until their eyes met again.
“What’s your name?”
“Tiffany.”
“Well Tiffany, I appreciate this. You have no idea how exhausting it is to find a place that’s open at midnight.” He told her smiling. “I’m Billy, Billy Ryan.”
“Well, it’s not a problem Billy Ryan.” She told him returning the smile.
A moment of silence passed.
“How much will that be?” He asked.
“A dollar fifty.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled his hand back out empty. He stood up and removed his wallet from his back pocket then placed it back in.
She slightly laughed. “Don’t worry about it.” She stood up and walked over to the register and pressed a couple of buttons and it opened. She reached into her pocket and placed two dollars in and removed fifty cents then closed the drawer.
“I’m sorry, I don’t get paid until tomorrow.” He told her.
“On Saturday?”
“Yeah, after my gig. I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“You’re a musician?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, when you hit it big just send me an autograph and we’ll call it even.” She grinned. “Where do you play?”
“Over at Thelma’s.” His eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. “I know, why don’t you come over and watch me tomorrow play tomorrow night? I’ll buy you a drink and we can call it even.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not a problem.”
“I came in after closing and I don’t even have money to pay you with, and you’re saying it’s not a problem?” He asked grinning. “Come on, come out to the club tomorrow night and we’ll call it even. I’ll have it on my conscience if you don’t.”
“I can’t. I have to work.”
“Until when?”
She couldn’t believe he was so concerned over a dollar fifty.
“Until when?” He repeated smiling.
She smiled at his effort. If he was trying to charm it out of her with his amazing smile and honest eyes it was working. “Eight.”
“That’s great, I’m not on until eight thirty.”
“What a coincidence.” She grinned.
“Well, sometimes things just come up and you have to change your stage time.” He said smiling. “What do you say? Will you come?”
She sighed playfully. “Maybe.”
He smiled and nodded confidently. “Maybe.” He then shoved the straw in the lid of his cup and picked up his guitar.
“Well, thank you Tiffany.”
“No problem.”
He strolled over to the door and took a sip of his float. “I was right.” He told her before he walked out the door.
“About what?”
“You do make floats as good as you dance. Lucky me.”
She blushed and he walked out of the ice cream parlour.
