Piece of Cake

Angel of Icecream

"One vanilla and two pistachios, please." the woman ordered the ice-cream seller. 

"Coming right up!" Three balls of frosty, exquisite cream was scooped onto cones and handed to the woman, who accepted it with a brief "thanks," before paying and leaving.

The next customer did the same.

So does the next.

And the next.

12-year-old Charvi Stockton sat and watched the little encounters under the counter in the ice-cream truck, frowning while licking an ice cream of her own. Green tea, her favorite. 

Charvi loved eating icecream ever since she first tasted it, she loved eating it in all seasons of the year. She loved the sensation of the creamy, refreshing, texture on her tongue and all the tastes and flavors there are, spanning from cherry and mango, to -believe it or not- pizza.

So frowns and icecream don't often go together for her, but looking at the customer's insincere smile- no wait, it's not insincere, it's just not directed at the icecream seller; Charvi doesn't understand why because ice cream, no matter how heavenly it may seem, can't possibly compare to her mother.

The icecream seller, a woman with the same wavy hazelnut hair and honey brown eyes as her, smiled at Charvi's direction; she smiled back. Mother was the most hard-working woman Charvi knew in her life, she worked as a waitress in a restaurant as well as an ice-cream seller on the weekends. Ever since Charvi's father - who used to earn all the money for the family - decided to tragically pass away due to a heart attack. Mother had been working nonstop to earn enough money for her daughter to attend school and live a comfortable life at home, often overworking and coming home late at night, but always finding time to ask about Charvi's day and kiss her goodnight, somehow.

It was like her mother was an angel, an angel that sells icecream. 

"Charvi," her Mother called. "Pack up, we're going back."

"You're going to the restaurant again, Momma?" Charvi asked as she stood up.

Mother sighed, "yes, sweetheart. I'll go as soon as I send you back home." Her eyes looked dull, Charvi didn't like it.

But she nodded anyway and finished up the last of her ice cream, prepared for another day of meticulous planning.

Planning what?

Her mother's birthday, of course. 

*** 

Charvi had her whole notebook filled already. She had all her ideas written down, and she could probably recite them all from the top to bottom and vice versa if she wanted to.

"Make a surprise breakfast first thing in the morning; chocolate muffins, pancakes with chocolate spread, fried egg with bacon..." Mother liked anything that had chocolate in them, so Charvi was still debating whether to add some to the fried egg...

"Second, give her the poem: Sweet as sugar, pretty with wonder, no one can ever, be better than Mother..." should she add another verse?

"Third, give her the happy birthday card along with some flowers; a white lily, three daisies, two tulips, and a few more violets..." was that enough? Perhaps a daffodil would do...

"Fourth, bring her to the living room to watch a movie of her choice, suggest Charlie and the Chocolate Factory if she can't choose..." Or any other movie including chocolate.

"Fifth, let her go out shopping whatever she likes, decorate the house while she's gone to give her a surprise when she comes back..." those old curtains need to be taken care of. 

At last, Charvi had the whole routine memorized and stuck in her head for good. She smiled, satisfied, and tucked her notebook safely inside the bottom of her drawer where Mother wouldn't find it.

"Vlinder, buddy, you think I'm ready?" 

The Border Collie by her feet continued to stare back at her blandly. 

"..."

Sometimes she wonder where her dog's soul went. 

"I guess it's safe to take that as a yes." Yes, she was ready as ever for tomorrow.  

There really wasn't any need to ask.