For nearly two weeks, my nine-year-old daughter, Ellie, kept coming home with free ice cream.
At first, I thought it was sweet.
By the fourth time, I knew something was wrong.
We lived in an ordinary suburban neighborhood where an ice cream truck came through a few evenings a week during the summer. The moment Ellie heard that familiar cheerful melody drifting down the street, she would run toward the front door.
“Mom, can I have three dollars?”
Usually, I gave it to her.
But that summer, she had already spent her allowance.
So when I heard the truck one afternoon and saw Ellie rushing outside, I called after her.
“You don’t have any money, remember?”
She slipped on her sandals without turning around.
“I don’t need any.”
I frowned.
“Why not?”
“The man gives me one.”
A few minutes later, Ellie came back holding a strawberry shortcake bar.
I stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“The ice cream man gave it to me.”
I shrugged.
It didn’t seem like a big deal.
There were always several neighborhood children gathered around the truck. Maybe he had extra stock. Maybe he was simply being generous. Maybe he had decided to give one child a free treat.
I didn’t think much about it.
Until it happened again.
And then again.
By the fourth time, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Ellie walked through the front door with another strawberry shortcake bar in her hand.
I looked at her.
“Why does this man keep giving you free ice cream?”
She shrugged as though the answer were obvious.
“He says strawberry was your favorite too.”
I stopped what I was doing.
“My favorite?”
Ellie nodded.
“He said you always got this one.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
Strawberry shortcake bars had been my favorite ice cream when I was a child.
But that was something I hadn’t told Ellie.
It was a small detail from a childhood I rarely talked about.
“Did you tell him my name?” I asked.
“No.”
“Did you tell him I used to eat those?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him anything about me?”
Ellie shook her head.
That was when the situation stopped feeling like an older man simply being kind to neighborhood children.
Something about it bothered me.
So the next time I heard the ice cream truck coming down our street, I went outside with Ellie.
