“Not now, sweetie. You have Cheerios,” I said.
“No!”
“Do you want apple slices?”
“No!”
“He wants a cookie, Mommy,” Daisy said.
“And these are for you,” Connie said. She handed me a short stack of her bakery’s business cards. “If you don’t mind putting them out with the samples, maybe?”
“Not at all. I can put them in the bags, too. They’re pretty.” I fingered the thick card stock, admiring the whimsical font. Made on her home printer, I was sure, but... My mind went to the buyer for AllSeasons. Wouldn’t I need business cards if I went to meet him? “I was thinking we should get some made up for Mom. As a Christmas present, maybe.”
Amy had a degree in art. She could design something. Maybe an updated logo. Labels. Branding was important.
“Abby would love that,” Connie said. “How’s she doing?”
“She needs spinal surgery,” I heard myself say.
Connie’s smile dissolved in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. When?”
“The twenty-third.”
“Right before Christmas?”
I nodded.
“Mama. Cookie,” DJ insisted.
“You haz to eat your Cheerios,” Daisy said.
“No!” DJ said, giving his sister a push.
I intervened. “DJ, do you want some juice?”
“No! Cookie!” DJ shouted, flinging himself at the cargo net. “Cookie, cookie!”
I grabbed him before he flipped over onto the asphalt.
“I should go,” Connie said, backing away. “You have customers.”
I did. All of them looking at me like I was the worst mother in the world. I gave DJ a cookie.
“Me, too, Mommy,” Daisy said. “I want a cookie, too.”
So I gave them both cookies because, you know what? They deserved cookies. “Who wants to watchFrozenon Mommy’s iPad?” I asked.
“Frozen!”
Daisy beamed. “Peez, Mommy.”
For the next hour and forty-nine minutes, they were little angels. With one eye on the back of the Explorer, I offered samples and sold cheese, made change and conversation.
“Mommy.”
“Yes, baby?”
“I haz to pee,” Daisy said.
