Gina Calanni - Dream Come True

Acknowledgement To Ethan, Beck, and Jude – it was so much fun sampling different ice creams with you as I wrote Dream Come True . I loved having you as my ultimate research partners. To my mom – you’re a sweet treat on a Sunday Funday smothered in whipped cream and a drizzle of strawberry glaze. Thank you for your endless support. To Katie – you’re a dose of Mexican vanilla ice cream with dollops of peanut butter and scoops of Nutella mixed into an incredible flavor that everyone truly savors. Thank you for always being my Jamison. To Engy – you’re a unique blend of apple cinnamon slices chopped into butter pecan ice cream with threads of caramel swirled into each bite. Thank you for your love and friendship. To Mika – you’re a mix of red wine sorbet with little traces of dark chocolate laced through. Thank you for your love and friendship. To Bethany – you’re an ice cream sundae served with peach champagne sauce. Thank you for your continued support and friendship. To my Gems – thank you for the laughs, love, and support – y’all are banana split with strawberry, raspberry and blueberry ice cream topped with whipped cream and chopped pecans. To my HQ Digital Crew – you’re an international combination of toasted hazelnuts, Swiss chocolate, English toffee, Australian Tim Tams, and peanut butter cups blended into the ultimate blizzard enjoyed by all. Thank you for the support, the advice, and the laughs. To my editor Charlotte – you’re a mixture of Dulce de Leche cheesecake bites layered into a delicious ice cream torte topped with Chambord. To my glass of wine – thank you for the encouragement, the ability to get past the difficult moments, and the enjoyment with every sip. And finally last but not least to Schatzi, who if given the chance would love to share a tub of ice cream with me any day of the week. However, since she is a dog, I shall offer a tasty bone and heartfelt thank you for always being at my side and letting me know you care.

Dedication To Ethan, Beck, and Jude – every day spent with you is like an extra topping to the joy of each delicious scoop of life that you have brought me.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Excerpt

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter One

I slap my hand down on the scratched-up kitchen table. I can’t believe it. It actually happened. It happened. It.

I – that’s me, Sahara Smith – just received an email from none other than Blue Ribbon Creamery in Riverton, Texas. From their corporate office. CORPORATE! I blink my eyes a few times. And scan my computer once more before telling my mama. She probably won’t believe me. Shoot, I wouldn’t have believed me if I hadn’t just read it myself. I lick my lips and peak at the screen one more time. There it is, clearer than a sunrise over the parking lot at Wal-Mart.

Dear Ms. Smith,

We would like to offer you a position at Blue Ribbon Creamery as an associate product developer.

Product developer. I’ll have to explain to my mama what this means. I jump up. It’s real. This is finally happening! To me. I run through my kitchen and out the front door. My mama is sitting in her rocking chair on the porch. Her house coat is flapping a bit at her ankles. Even though she’s wearing her house coat, she’s put on her sandals for being on the porch. My mama is one for decorum and always says showing your house shoes in public is downright shameful. She’s got her knitting needles whipping up another afghan for one of her friends, I’m sure.

“Mama, mama.” I rub my lips together.

“Yes, Sahara, what is it, sugar? What’s got you in such a fuss?” She places the needles down in her lap.

“Mama, it happened! It finally happened!” I’m almost afraid to say what it is out loud. Like somehow it won’t be true.

“What, sugar? What happened?” My mama’s green eyes are wide now, like she’s worried I might say something horrible like a pipe under the kitchen sink is sprouting out water and flooding our house. She doesn’t realize that my excitement is a good thing. A great thing. The best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“I’ve been offered a job at Blue Ribbon Creamery.” I do a mini-dance, running around the porch, and come back to where my mama is sitting and grab her hands. I want her to dance with me. My mama doesn’t move. She sits still in her chair and picks up her needles and yarn again.

“What do you mean, a job at Blue Ribbon Creamery? You’ve already got a job at Dairy Queen.” My mama cocks her head to the right and gives me a look of indignation. Like I’ve got rattlesnakes crawling out of my hair.

“Mama, I told you I had creation skills.”

“Now, hush your mouth. Don’t you go talking that blasphemy.” My mama clutches her chest like she is waiting for lightning to strike us both down.

I let out a small laugh. “Mama, I mean flavor-creating skills. Remember how many flavors I created for Dairy Queen?” I say under my breath… for no extra pay . “Well, Blue Ribbon wants my skills and is offering me a job as an associate product developer.”

“Say what? How are you going develop products? That sounds too fancy for you and especially for ice cream. That implies a plural and ice cream is only one thing. How can you create products, plural, about ice cream?” My mama shakes her head in dismay, as if I’ve said I can solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded.

“Mama, I filled out the questionnaire and listed all the products.” I swallow fast. I’m about to drown in saliva in the back of my mouth. “I put down all of the flavors that I’ve already created for Dairy Queen and Blue Ribbon must have been impressed as they are offering me this job.” I throw my hands up in the air. Why isn’t she happy for me? I press my lips together. Does my mama not think I can do this job?

“Sugar, I don’t know about this.” My mama shakes her head and works her needles back and forth.

“Mama, I’m taking this job.” I stand firm. I’m not going to be persuaded. I’ve been scooping ice cream for too long not to jump at the first opportunity to land a real job. One with benefits and the real possibility of a career. I can do this. I’m talented. I know my flavors. Dairy Queen has accepted every single one of the nineteen flavors I’ve created. Why can’t my mama be happy and supportive of me? This is my ticket. This is my way out of this small-town life.

I don’t want to follow in my mama’s footsteps. I want something more for myself. My mama always said she named me Sahara because I was destined for great things. Well, it’s arrived: the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s going to take me out of this town. Mexia is mighty nice and all that but I can’t stay here any longer. I’ve been itching my palms every day counting down the seconds until this moment. The moment I’ve been offered a ticket out. And I want it so bad. Worse than I’ve ever wanted anything. Well, except having my daddy back. But there’s no time to think about him. Not in a happy moment like this. I’ve got to pack my things and figure out where I’m going to stay. There is so much to do. But it doesn’t matter because I’m leaving! I’ve got a real important job. One that requires skills and talent. Finally, someone – well, not someone, a whole company! – thinks that my ideas, my creations, are good and worthy of payment. I’m so excited.