Chocolate Sundae Mystery (2 page)

The girl caught Violet’s eye. “Someone will be right with you,” she told the Aldens as she continued to mix a chocolate ice cream soda for one of the customers at the counter. The children noticed she spoke with an accent.

“I wonder where she’s from,” Benny whispered.

“Hard to tell,” Henry answered. “You know,” he continued, “it’s strange there’s no one here we know.”

“Yes,” Jessie agreed. “Where are Mr. Richards and Pete?”

Mr. Richards, the elderly owner of the parlor, usually came around to all the booths to visit with the customers. His grandson, Pete, worked in the Shoppe as a cook.

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” A short, round man came toward their table. He wore a sparkling white apron over his rather large stomach. “I’m afraid Mr. Richards and Pete no longer work here.”

“But Mr. Richards is the owner,” Jessie sounded so surprised she raised her voice.

“Not anymore, I’m afraid. He sold the parlor to me last week,” the man answered. He smiled at the Aldens, but he could see how sorry they were to hear his news.

“Why did he do that?” Benny couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“The Shoppe was getting to be too much for him,” the new owner explained.

“It’s true, he was very old,” Jessie said.

“Do Tom and Ruth still work here?” Violet asked. “We know them very well.” Though Violet was sorry to hear about the changes at the Shoppe, she found she liked the new owner’s open, friendly face. In fact, she thought he looked a little bit like Santa Claus with his twinkly blue eyes, bushy white beard, and red cheeks.

The man stopped smiling and shook his head. “No, Tom and Ruth left last week,” he answered abruptly. “They both got jobs that paid more. I’m hiring a whole new staff.”

“We saw your sign in the window,” Benny said sadly. He forgot, for an instant, how hungry he had been. “Does that mean everything will be changing?” He was afraid to hear the answer.

“No, not at all. The parlor’s always been so popular. Why fix what isn’t broken?” The owner looked so cheerful again, the children didn’t want to ask why business seemed so slow.

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that!” Benny sounded very relieved. “I think I’ll order a chocolate sundae.”

“Good for you,” the owner said, chuckling. He turned around and called to a young boy carrying a tray of banana splits. “Oh, Brian, come wait on this table next, please.”

Brian couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. He had fine blond hair and lots of freckles. He was tall and thin. “I’ll be right there,” the boy answered, nodding to the owner.

“I’m hoping working here will fatten him up a bit,” the owner confided to the Aldens. “Well, I have to get back to the kitchen. I hope to see you all again.”

“Oh, you will,” Jessie assured him. “This is our favorite place to eat in Greenfield.”

“Good,” the owner said. Before he left their booth, he introduced himself as Mr. Brown.

“He really should be Mr. Red because of his red cheeks,” Benny blurted out when the owner had gone back into the kitchen.

“Ssh, Benny, he might hear you,” Jessie said, giggling into her napkin.

“I think Benny’s right,” Henry said, winking at his brother. They went back to their menus and didn’t even notice Brian standing by their booth.

“Excuse me. Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked softly.

The Aldens didn’t seem to hear him. Brian gulped and looked down at the floor before asking again, this time more loudly.

Henry looked up a little sheepishly. “I’m still trying to decide.” He sounded apologetic.

Jessie and Violet ordered tuna salad with lettuce and tomato, and dishes of strawberry ice cream for dessert.

“The strawberry ice cream was just made today,” the boy said, looking at Violet. He seemed glad to have something to say to her.

“Are you new here?” Violet asked.

Brian blushed. “Uh, I started last week,” he muttered while he looked down at his notepad and busily wrote their orders.

“Do you like working here?” Benny asked after he’d ordered his grilled cheese sandwich and a chocolate sundae with extra chocolate sprinkles on the side.

“Oh, yes, I really like the ice cream,” Brian said, smiling.

“Me, too,” Benny said.

Brian grinned so widely his eyes crinkled. “Your sandwiches will be out in a few minutes,” he said.

As Brian hurried away, Benny noticed a group of four boys hovering outside, near the front door. The boys were dressed in old T-shirts and pants that looked too big for them.

The tallest of the group tried to get Brian’s attention by knocking on the window. When Brian looked in the boys’ direction, the tall boy held up his hand and quickly opened and closed it.

“Why don’t those boys just come in?” Benny wondered aloud.

“What boys?” Jessie asked, raising her eyebrows. Her back was to the window. Quickly Benny explained what he had seen. By the time Jessie and Violet turned around to look, the boys were gone.

“Excuse me! This still isn’t a good ice cream soda. You put too much fizzy water in it! Can’t you understand simple directions?” The loud voice of an angry customer interrupted the children’s conversation.

“Who’s he talking to like that?” Violet asked, rather shocked.

“To that new waitress up at the counter,” Henry answered pointing with his head. The Aldens turned.

The customer waved his hands in the air as he tried to tell the waitress how to make his soda. By mistake, his hands hit his glass. His soda spilled all over the counter.

A young woman sitting a few seats away jumped up to avoid staining her white linen skirt. The waitress looked as if she were about to cry.

“H
ey, what’s going on out here?” Mr. Brown called as he came hurrying out of the kitchen. “That’s no way to talk to one of my waitresses,” he told the man angrily. “She’s new here, new to this country, and she’s never worked in an ice cream parlor before.”

“That’s obvious,” the man answered. He was very tall, and when he stood up, he towered over Mr. Brown. Without saying another word, he stormed out of the parlor. He didn’t even stop to pay for his lunch.

“Well, good riddance to him,” Mr. Brown said, shaking his head at the waitress. She managed a small smile then buried her head in her hands.

“Why don’t we help clean up the counter?” Jessie suggested. “They seem very short of help.”

“Good idea,” Henry said. Hastily, the Aldens gathered up some napkins. Henry and Violet began mopping the counter. Jessie cleared away a soggy sandwich.

Mr. Brown wiped his hands on his big apron. He patted the new waitress gently on the arm. “Simone, please don’t cry,” he said gently. “I’ve just been so busy this week, I haven’t had time to train you properly. It’s not your fault we lost that customer.”

Benny quietly handed Simone some napkins so she could dry her eyes. “Thank you,” Simone said, smiling at Benny.

“Where are you from, Simone?” Jessie asked gently.

“I’m from France,” Simone answered proudly. “I came here for the summer to improve my English.”

“Your English is excellent,” Violet said with admiration.

“I studied it a long time in school,” replied Simone modestly.

Mr. Brown looked thoughtfully at the Aldens. Benny was now wiping the far end of the counter. Henry had gathered all the soggy napkins and was throwing them away in the trash.

“I can see you children are hard workers,” Mr. Brown said. He looked very impressed. “Would you be able to help Simone and Brian this afternoon — after you’ve had your lunch? We don’t have a big staff yet, as you can see.”

Before the children could answer, Brian hurried by carrying a tray of sandwiches. “Oh, Mr. Brown, one of your suppliers is at the back door. What should I tell him?” the young waiter called.

Mr. Brown sighed. “I’ll be right there.”

“I think those sandwiches are for us.” Benny eyed the tray hungrily.

“Please children, sit down and have your lunch. Then, if you’d like, we’ll put you to work this afternoon. By the way, can you make sodas and milkshakes?”

“I think we could,” Jessie answered. “We always used to watch Tom and Ruth work behind the counter.”

“Oh, would you show me?” Simone begged. She dabbed her eyes with a napkin.

“Sure,” Jessie said with a grin.

Mr. Brown sighed with relief. “That would be wonderful,” he said. “Until we hire a cook, I don’t have much time to be at the counter. I’m so busy making ice cream and sandwiches.” Mr. Brown paused as if noticing other customers at the counter for the first time. “I’ll get you another sandwich,” he told the young woman in the white skirt.

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling at Mr. Brown. “I think that man was very rude.”

“He’s been in here before,” Simone said, shaking her head. “He’s always complaining about something.”

“Really?” Mr. Brown frowned.

“Yes,” Simone continued. “Yesterday, he said his vanilla milkshake wasn’t mixed correctly, but he drank it anyway. He said he knew how to make much better ones.”

Mr. Brown sighed and shook his head.

“I told him I was sorry he didn’t like his shake,” the waitress continued. “He said he couldn’t understand how I could be working here when I didn’t know how to do anything.”

“So today when he came in, he gave you instructions?” Mr. Brown said kindly.

“Yes, but you heard what he said about his ice cream soda.” Simone looked sad.

“I heard him,” Mr. Brown answered grimly. “Did he at least pay yesterday?”

“Yes, but he almost threw the money on the counter,” Simone replied.

“If he comes back, let me know,” Mr. Brown said abruptly. “I’d like to talk to him. Now you must excuse me. I have to get back to the kitchen. I’ll be right out with your sandwich,” he told the woman in the white skirt.

While the Aldens ate their lunch, they could not stop talking about the strange customer.

“It sounds like that man just wanted to make a big scene,” Henry remarked as he stirred his vanilla milkshake.

“I wonder if there really was anything wrong with his soda,” Jessie said thoughtfully. She bit into her sandwich.

Henry sipped his milkshake. “This one tastes just fine,” he said.

“Yes, but Mr. Brown probably made that milkshake. It came from the kitchen, not the counter,” Violet reminded him.

“That’s true,” Henry said. He took another long sip.

“Why do you think that customer came back,” Violet asked, “when he didn’t like what he had yesterday?”

“Maybe he is going to tell everyone about the problems here,” Henry said. He wiped his hands on his paper napkin.

“Hey, maybe he works for Mrs. Saunders,” Benny suggested. He sat up a little straighter.

“We’ll just have to keep our eyes on him,” Henry said. He added some salt to his sandwich. “I wonder if he’ll come back.”

Benny nodded. He licked the last bit of chocolate sauce from his long spoon. “This ice cream sundae is as good as always,” he said happily.

After lunch, the children cleared their table themselves because Brian was very busy. “At least they’re getting more customers,” Violet remarked to Jessie as several mothers with young children came in.

Jessie and Violet went behind the counter to help Simone. Benny grabbed a broom and swept the floor, and Henry worked in the kitchen making sandwiches.

The next customer at the counter ordered a strawberry ice cream soda. Jessie called Simone over so she could watch Jessie make it.

Carefully, Jessie measured the strawberry syrup and milk. She poured the ingredients into a tall glass and stirred them. Then she added soda water.

“See, I’m leaving some room at the top of the glass for the ice cream,” Jessie said as she dropped a big scoop of strawberry ice cream into the glass. She then added a little more soda water and some whipped cream.

“Oh, you make it look so easy,” Simone said. She made a vanilla soda while Jessie looked on. The customer said it was delicious.

“Oh, I’ve learned so much,” Simone told Mr. Brown at the end of the afternoon. “I can now make milkshakes, sodas, and malteds.”

“I’m glad, Simone,” Mr. Brown said encouragingly. “I knew all along you could, but I’m glad you feel more confident.” He turned to the Aldens.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he told them. “With Henry making all the sandwiches, I had time to make enough ice cream to keep up with our orders for the week.”

“That’s good. We need more chocolate and vanilla ice cream at the counter,” Simone mentioned.

“All right, I have some in the kitchen freezer,” Mr. Brown said. “I’ll fill those containers before I leave this evening.”

“Could you teach us how to make ice cream sometime?” Henry asked.

“Of course, my boy. I’d love to.” Mr. Brown seemed delighted. “Just as long as you don’t peek when I put in the secret ingredients that make the parlor’s ice cream so special.”

The Aldens nodded.

“Good,” Mr. Brown said approvingly. “You see, I promised Mr. Richards I would never give away his secrets.” Mr. Brown paused. “You children wouldn’t be willing to come help us for the next couple of weeks?” he asked hopefully. “You’ve been such a big help tous already.”