CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND ICE CREAM

The ice cream parlor was busy, but not overwhelmingly so. Families, teenagers, and the occasional lone customer filled the space, the air thick with the scent of sugar and freshly made waffle cones.

Contessa stood at the counter, observing the menu.

Beside her, Maggie let out a satisfied sigh. “Alright, hon, tell me the truth. You ever had ice cream before?”

“Yes,” Contessa said.

Maggie gave her a look. “Okay, let’s try that again. You ever had ice cream… like this?”

Contessa considered. “I have had ice cream in its frozen state, yes.”

Maggie pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s not—never mind. We’re fixing that today.” She turned to the teenage employee behind the counter. “Two scoops for my friend here. Surprise us.”

The girl nodded, reaching for the scooper.

Contessa frowned. “Why introduce randomness into food selection?”

“Because that’s part of the fun,” Maggie said. “You don’t have to optimize everything. Sometimes, you just enjoy the experience.”

“That is inefficient.”

Maggie sighed. “Just trust me.”

A minute later, the employee handed Contessa a cone with two neatly stacked scoops—one bright pink, the other pale yellow.

She examined it. “What flavors are these?”

“Strawberry and banana,” the girl said.

Contessa took a small, experimental lick. The cold was expected. The texture, smooth. The taste…

She paused.

Maggie grinned. “Well?”

“This is…” Contessa hesitated, searching for the right descriptor. “Sweet.”

“Yep.”

“And fruity.”

“Also yep.”

She took another bite, slower this time. The flavors were strong. Artificial. Yet… enjoyable. A moment passed. Then another.

Maggie nudged her. “You like it.”

Contessa considered again. “I do not dislike it.”

Maggie laughed. “Hon, that’s the closest thing to a rave review I’m gonna get from you, isn’t it?”

Contessa took another bite. “Correct.”