“I do speak three languages fluently. If you count the Nigerian pidgin, that would make four, but most Nigerians do not count pidgin, it’s considered our language of interethnic communication and spoken by over a 100 million people.”
“What three languages do you speak?”
“English, Yoruba and Mandarin.”
“Interesting. So, I might need to hire you some time in the future for your Mandarin skill.”
“Maybe.” She smirks, I return a chuckle. She keeps coloring me intrigued.
We arrive at a store; an old Hispanic man sees her and grins. “You are here!”
“I am. How are you Manuel?” She smiles.
“Good. Rachel should be here soon, but for now, I get to serve you.” He looks happy.
“You are too kind. This is my friend Daniel,” she says, turning to me and Manuel reaches out to shake my hand. I accept his handshake, and he goes inside and brings out boxes. He opens them and shows her the customized T-shirt. Each shirt design is based on the instrument her student plays with each child’s initials inscribed on the shirt. Another box is water bottles with musical stickers and medium sized pinback buttons with the program logo.
“They are perfect, thank you so much.” She hugs the man who happily hugs her back and behind him comes a voice.
“You know he has a crush on you; he’s going to be grinning all day and annoying me.” A middle-aged black woman says behind him. MAK pulls back and smiles. The lady comes to hug her. “I heard Chicago gets to keep you.” She looks happy.
“We did it,” she answers and the woman cups her face.
“So proud of you my dear.”
MAK nods.
“Thank you.” I see the happiness on her face. “I love the items, and the kids will be happy.”
“They better like it or I’ll come and smack their little behinds.” We all laugh. “Who’s this? He’s cute.” She moves closer to me. “See, Manuel? Strong, young and good-looking man like him is good for MAK, not old and bald like you,” she says.
“You are just jealous,” Manuel responds, waving the woman off. She turns to me.
“I’m Rachel, and that old and bald man is my husband,” she says. Her hand is out for a handshake.
“I’m Daniel, MAK’s friend.”
“Nice to meet you, Daniel. I hope MAK brings you by again.”
“I hope so too.” I answer.
“I have sent the payment,” MAK says, and I notice Manuel stacking the boxes onto a pushcart.
“Where did you park dear?” Manuel says to MAK.
“We are parked close by, in the first lot.”
“I can take the boxes and bring the cart back,” I say.
“It’s best Manuel comes with us; we won’t be coming back this way,” MAK says.
“Happy to come with you, dear,” Manuel is quick to respond.
“Of course you are,” Rachel mocks. Manuel grins at her, she shakes her head at him, probably tired of him.
“Ready?” MAK asks and Manuel nods. We turn to leave, and Manuel goes to kiss Rachel.
“Be right back, honey,” he says.
