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Becca laughed. “I’m fine for now, but I might need another taco in a bit. Thank you so much.”
“How are you feeling, Dad?” Ramon asked.
“I’m excited,” I said.
“He wasn’t doing so hot at the ultrasound, though. He fainted!” Becca said before dissolving into giggles. I felt my face redden, and not from the heat.
“It’s twins!” I added.
Now, Ramon started laughing. “Okay, in that case, I don’t blame you. Twins? Shit. That’s wild. Again, congratulations.
“Thank you, we’re so excited,” Becca said.
By now, the day's first customers were starting to trickle in. Watching Becca work the farmer's market was incredible. It was like watching the Celtics win a championship. She treated every customer like they were the only person on planet Earth. She remembered all her regulars by name and bagged their favorite cookies before they even made a decision. I mostly stood there and grabbed more tins of cookies from Becca’s car. At one point, I broke down the box that held the individual bags and tossed it into the recycling bin behind the indoor portion of the market. I brought us wraps for lunch. When I returned to our stall, Becca was stacking empty containers.
“We already sold out of breakfast cookies, oatmeal scotchies, and S’mores. It’s not even two!” Becca wiped the sweat from her brow and took a sip from her water bottle.
“That’s amazing! How are you feeling?” I asked. The midday sun was starting to pound.
“I’m good! Hungry, but good.” Becca grabbed a wrap out of my hand and peeled the paper wrapper off. “What kind is this?” She asked.
“Falafel and the other one is chicken salad,” I said.
“Dibs on falafel,” she took a bite and sat down, humming contentedly.
“Today’s the first day I really feel like myself,” she noted. I sat down next to her and slung my arm around the back of her chair.
“You’re an absolute force,” I said.
Becca blushed. “I’ve gotten to know a lot of people at the market. Most of them are repeat customers from the Fall.”
“You’re building your customer base! That’s great! Any chance they’ll stop at the exclusive Cookie Cove in the Dover Mall Food Court?” I asked.
“No way! You got the contract set up?” Becca squealed, flinging her arms around me.
“Jonathan finalized everything. He sent it to your email this morning. I wanted to wait to tell you in person,” I said sheepishly.
“This is the best day ever!” Becca gushed. “Thank you,” she added.
I waved my hand. “It’s my pleasure. You know, since I’ve taken on a second job as The Cookie Cove’s number one fan. I needed to increase my access to oatmeal scotchies to include all of my jobs.”
Becca hugged me close. I felt her lush breasts brush against my chest. My groin stirred.
“You’re the best,” she mumbled against my chest.
“Any time. I barely did anything,” I said.
Becca grinned. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” she asked, glancing at the patrons meandering around the market. Couples stopped to purchase bouquets. I saw a dad with a toddler on his shoulders examining a cardboard carton of blueberries. It was the exact opposite of the cutthroat vibe of Boston.
“Yeah, we really have,” I said.
Becca relaxed against the back of her seat. “You have to admit this is so much better than a flower shop.”
By the time I unloaded all the empty cookie trays and the cooler from Becca’s car, I was a sweaty mess. I wiped my face with the front of my shirt in the elevator up to the penthouse.
I entered the penthouse and stretched.
“All done?” Becca asked from her spot on the couch.
