“So, what’s your favorite flavor?” Lynn asked as she and Calista emerged into the ice cream parlor. The quaint setup was a local mom-and-pop operation located across from a health clinic. Pink and white checkered chairs were situated around square, black and white checkered tables. The nostalgic atmosphere made Lynn smile—the antique jukebox and the lit up electric guitar clock. The neon lights flickered, illuminating the comfortable parlor with multi-colored lights.
“Strawberry,” Calista grinned.
“Can I help you, Ma’am?” the woman behind the counter asked with a smile. Her pepper gray hair was piled upon her head in a bun and her smile made the entire place seem cozy. “Oh, what an adorable daughter you have.”
Lynn smiled, laying her hand on top of Calista’s head. “Oh, she’s not mine. I
