“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“Take the cart and the boxes back to the truck, please. I don’t like my tent to be cluttered,” she says.
“Bet,” I tell her, then kiss her lips.
I start gathering the boxes and stack them on the cart before I pull it out of the tent. Because the roads are blocked off, we are parked about a mile from the Jubilee market. As I trek toward the car, I clock a few of the vendors and see the signs for iceskating. Everything is out here and the crowd is already thick as fuck. Wren is going to sell out for sure.
When I finally make it back to the truck, my cell starts to vibrate. Thinking it might be Wren, I answer without even looking at the screen.
“Meleck,” I answer.
“What up, bruh?” It’s Jamal.
“What up?”
“Merry Christmas Eve, my nigga,” he says.
“Same to you.”
“You know I had to check in. I haven’t heard from you. Did you get a spot at the ranch you wanted?”
“Nah, but I ended up at the ranch I needed,” I say, speaking facts. I’m exactly where I need and want to be.
“Oh shit. That sounds like more than horses and cows.”
“It is.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. I can hear the shit in your voice. It’s a female.”
“A woman,” I correct him.
“That’s my muthafucking dawg. Well, shit. I ain’t got to worry about you no more.”
“Nah, bruh. I’m straight.”
“I won’t hold you then. Hit me up after the holiday.”
“I got you and tell your peeps I said Merry Christmas,” I tell him.
“I will. Hooah!”
“Hooah!” I respond then end the call.
I load the truck bed with the boxes then place the cart in the back seat. When I make it back to the tent, there’s a line. Her sign says ten, which means they have another fifteen minutes, but I guess they don’t care.
“I guess we can let them in,” she says when I walk back into the tent.
“They’re ready for yo’ jams and soaps. Damn, baby. This is dope. You a whole ass businesswoman,” I say, impressed as hell. She merely smiles.She keeps amazing me.
“I can let them in,” Amara volunteers.
“Okay, but wait. Where are my payment signs?”
Amara lifts a black and gold sign from the table. “Right here. I forgot to stand them up,” she admits. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, let them in.”
Amara walks out, and seconds later, the line moves inside. The first two hours go by fast as fuck. At first, I kind of stand back and just watch in amazement as she handles her business. However, when I pick up on her rhythm and flow, I step in and start bagging the orders and many of these bags are filled to the top. One lady alone buys three of everything.
