Lady Superior Read Free Page B

Bienenstich kuchen?”
    The marquee blinked to read FEATURED SUNDAE: BLUE MOON as Jane glanced up. “What?”
    “It said Bienen-whatever.”
    “It says Blue Moon.”
    “It changed.”
    “You’re seeing things.”
    “I’m not. I swear to god.”
    “Well, have fun ordering a bienen-whatever.”
    Jane pulled into the parking lot and found a slice of shade to park in. A stone wall separated the restaurant from the lot and surrounding roads, vibrant green ivy engulfing the barrier from top to bottom. They stepped through a hole in the wall that looked like a fairy’s archway, its edges rough and irregular. Passing through an immaculate stone courtyard with a roaring waterfall, they walked to the shop proper.
    Jane directed her inside. Where the exterior was a vision of natural beauty, the interior stood in stark contrast: a stainless steel warehouse with no walls to block sight of the kitchen, grills and fryers sizzled while a dozen ice cream machines whirred. Frozen custard oozed its lazy way down stainless chutes into basins to await scooping. Menus the size of roadside billboards hung from a ceiling of corrugated steel, gently rocking back and forth from the breeze generated by massive fans and vents. Jane leaned to Kristen. “I can never tell whether ice cream machines look cool or like they're taking the worst craps of their lives.”
    Kristen grimaced. “You're pretty gross for a badass.”
    “I'm a badass?”
    “Oh, come on. Biker chick walking everywhere like she owns the place, keeps a gun in her trunk? You’re a badass or you’re trying way too hard to be one.”
    “My bike doesn’t have a trunk. It has saddlebags.”
    “Whatever. Are you paying?”
    “Yep.” Jane strode to the counter. No one behind the counter looked like they’d made it out of high school yet—teenagers working summer jobs. An acne-pocked boy offered Jane a smile and a croaky, pubescent hello. His eyes didn’t stay there long: he noticed Kristen, then her chest. Kristen glared death. It was one thing when people stole a glance. She still noticed—and it was still irritating—but the ones who glanced at least pretended they weren’t at a meat market. Relentless.
    “Are you listening or what?” Jane asked. The boy looked up with an embarrassed flush. “Thank you. I’ll have the Blue Moon shake.”
    “What’s the flavor of the day?” Kristen asked. One part curiosity, one part spite.
    “Uh…” The boy croaked. “Bean-in-kitchen?”
    “What’s in it?”
    “Honey, sliced almonds, Bavarian creme, and pieces of yellow cake.”
    “I’ll have that.”
    Jane peered down at the stack of flavor-of-the-day calendars in front of the register. She frowned. “What’s it called again?”
    “Bean-in-kitchen?”
    “That’s definitely not how you say that word.”
    “Sorry? Is that everything?”
    Jane looked to Kristen, who nodded. Jane nodded to the boy in turn. He recited their total, accepted Jane’s cash, and gave them their receipt. They stepped back and Jane showed Kristen the slip of paper: #233. She shook her head. “You’d think people living a predominantly German town would know how to pronounce German better.”
    After only a few minutes, the teenage boy wrapped his hands around the shining steel microphone beside his register. Despite the two of them standing less than three feet away, his croaky voice echoed throughout the warehouse. “Number two-thirty-three.”
    Jane waved her receipt as Kristen grabbed her Bienenstich kuchen custard and made for the outdoor seating. Jane, with her neon Blue Moon, followed close behind. The women were united in their unspoken decision to sit in the shade, but Jane didn’t stop until they reached the waterfall. She sat on the stone ledge at its base, one long bench that walled in the narrow pond. Kristen shook her head. She had to yell to be heard over the roaring water. “I’m not getting wet.”
    “Just sit. It’ll be easier that way,” Jane shouted back.
    With a