The gelato just for me, eaten on a weekday at the end of summer

“I want to eat that gelato while it’s still hot summer. And I want to do it just for myself.”

I have a favorite gelato shop.

Every time I go, they have about 20 flavors that make me want to read the descriptions and wonder, “What is this?”

From standard milk flavors to rare ones using miso or alcohol, the time spent choosing “Which flavor should I have today?” makes my heart race with excitement.

When we go as a family, the three of us—my husband, my eldest daughter (4 years old), and I—all eat it.

However, since it’s too much for my daughter to eat a single size by herself, our family’s standard style is to inevitably choose the double for 700 yen, which is just the right amount and price, and share it.

When that happens, the problem of which two flavors to choose arises.

First, my daughter’s wishes take priority.
Things with a kick like chocolate mint or anything containing alcohol are excluded.

Strawberry, milk, matcha.

In her four years of life, these three flavors have been hardwired into her brain as the ones that suit her palate best.

Therefore, the first flavor is decided by my daughter’s mood that day and the shop’s selection.

As for the other flavor, my husband and I end up yielding to each other.
In my most recent memory, I had yielded that right to my husband.

Even though my own preferences aren’t reflected, the gelato, made with carefully selected ingredients, usually delights everyone’s taste buds no matter what we choose, and by the time we finish, we’ve completely forgotten about “what flavor we wanted to choose.”

But today, I am different.

Because my beloved summer is coming to an end.

I can no longer hear the cicadas. What I hear now is the sound of autumn insects, and the mornings and evenings have become so cool that if I try to sleep without a towel blanket, my throat hurts by morning.

As if possessed by something, I got into the car at 10:45 AM.

It’s a 20-minute drive one way to the gelato shop.

Without telling my husband, who is at work, or my eldest daughter, who is at nursery school, I am driving to get gelato, using the golden time of a weekday morning just for myself.

“These 20 minutes are all mine.”

And by now, this was all I could think about.

While I was going around in circles thinking about the same thing, 20 minutes passed in the blink of an eye.

I had decided so impulsively that I left the house without even checking if the gelato shop was open on a Wednesday.

“I wonder if they're open today.”

By the time I realized that, I had already arrived in front of the shop.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and I could see the whitish lights on outside the shop.

“Oh, they're open.”

As I parked my car in the empty parking lot, what I felt was, as expected, a sense of guilt and a slight bit of shyness.

The momentum I had just a moment ago deflated slightly.

But I wanted gelato so, so badly, and the fact that I came here on a weekday, keeping it a secret from my family, was an undeniable truth.

“Today, I’m not going to choose a ‘kid-friendly flavor,’ I’m going to choose the flavor I really want to eat!”

Pulling myself together, I quietly opened the large, heavy, retro sliding door made of iron and wood.

Inside, there was one female customer who looked to be in her 60s.
Since there were no other cars in the parking lot, I was relieved to see an unexpected customer, and once I saw a woman there by herself, the embarrassment I felt earlier vanished somewhere.

I paced back and forth in front of the gelato case, just like the other customer, making sure not to bump into her as she made her choice.

While I was having that internal discussion with myself, the woman ahead of me placed her order and paid.

__"A double, then.""

I didn't hear what flavors she ordered, but the clerk's voice repeating that she had ordered a double size reached my ears.

This woman, who had come to the shop alone, had ordered a double.

And just like that, my hesitation from a moment ago—'Should I get a single? Should I get a double?'—vanished as if blown away by a gust of wind.

I'm going to get the 700-yen double gelato__!

And so, I chose two flavors of gelato just for myself.

"So I'm eating by myself what I usually share with three people..."

I felt a slight sense of guilt.

Well, to be precise, I'm not actually alone.

Since honey is forbidden for infants, I let my second daughter have just a tiny taste of the coconut flavor.

Now we're accomplices.

It's almost noon, and the temperature, which has climbed to 31°C, is rapidly melting the gelato.

I gaze at the distant mountains while doing a one-person food review in my head.

I finished it in a flash and washed down the honey left in my throat with water.

__ "It really is tastier when we eat it together."

Delicious things taste better when eaten with others.
I love this shop, including the exchanges we have, like saying, "This flavor was the right choice, wasn't it?" while devouring the perfect flavor all at once.

As I verbalized this realization in my mind, I drove the car home.

__ Time alone heals a mother.
But delicious things are even more delicious when eaten with everyone.