One afternoon, she came back holding a strawberry shortcake bar.
“I thought you didn’t have any allowance left.”
“I didn’t need it.”
“Why?”
“The man gave it to me.”
I assumed he was just being nice.
There were always a bunch of neighborhood kids around the truck, and maybe he’d had an extra one or something.
Then it happened again.
And again.
By the fourth time, I asked Ellie why this guy kept giving her free ice cream.
She shrugged.
“He says strawberry was your favorite too.”
I stopped what I was doing.
“My favorite?”
She nodded.
That was strange, because strawberry shortcake bars actually were my favorite when I was a kid.
But I figured Ellie must have mentioned it somehow.
“Did you tell him my name?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him I used to eat those?”
“No.”
That bothered me enough that the next time I heard the truck, I went outside with her.
