That’s when you know

The afternoon was rounding out to be a pleasant one. It was a mildly sunny Saturday, and business had been good. The store was relatively empty when a couple approached. They looked to be about middle age. They entered from the side door and meandered around to the front. They were holding hands, but gently broke apart to examine the ice cream separately. Several minutes later, the woman approached the counter with a determination that told me she was ready to order.

“What can I get you?” I asked her, the standard question. Her counter-part was still roping around the store, considering our bounty of merchandise.

She smiled pleasantly and picked up a few napkins, anticipating the sticky quality of the ice cream I was about to serve her.

“I’ll have the Denali Caribou Caramel, please, small, in a bowl,” she said finally. 

I nodded my acknowledgement and grabbed the scoop.

Once the ice cream was scooped, I plopped it up on the counter and ventured to the other side of the store where the husband was still musing over the flavours.

“Know what you’d like yet, sir?” I asked.

He scanned the row one more time before answering, “Yea, I think I’ll have the Denali Caribou Caramel please, small, in a bowl.”

I raised my eyebrows in delight, looking again to the other side of the store where the same had already been scooped. The wife was already eating, taking small bites with her spoon.

“Your wife chose the same one,” I told him.

I reached back down into the freezer to scoop another, but continued talking. “That’s when you know you were meant to be. That’s when you know.”