Page 7 of Chasing Church
I wanted to tell his bitch-ass to shut the fuck up. Bright was my first cousin, and I fucked with him the long way, but the way he was on Church’s titties pissed me off. “Wow. Her sister must have your nuts in a chokehold.”
“Nah. It’s not about my wife or my sister-in-law. It’s about you.” He jammed his finger in my direction.
“I’m out.” Church stormed into the house.
“I did my shit,” Bright continued once she’d left. “I fucked off and fucked around. But then I grew up. This is my damn brand. My name is on this company. And when I hired you, my name went on you. If you don’t give a shit about your name, . . . about your life, that’s on you. Go back to doing whatever you were doing before you fell into Jackson Falls. Keep roaming around the motherfuckin’ country, laying up on one woman after another. Nobody gives a fuck. But if you’re really trying to do something different—like you said you were—don’t piss on this opportunity. And definitely don’t piss on my sister-in-law. This business puts bread in her pocket. She needs it to be successful. She’s a young black woman out here getting it for herself. Ain’t that what all you young niggas want? A woman who brings something to the table? How is she supposed to bring something to the table when the motherfucka that’s makin’ the table keeps showin’ up late to work?”
“I’m not always late. It’s day one, dawg.”
“And your ass was late. How does that look, Jones?” His expression was both serious and disappointed. “Come on, Joe. Be the man you claimed you’re finally ready to be.”
I managedto make it to work on time for the rest of the week, even getting up early on Saturday morning to help Bright out at a local event. Saturday was the first day of Manor Days.Manor Dayswas a week-long event hosted by my aunt and uncle’s lodge, Manor at Sienna Sunset Resort, on the property’s grounds. It was a display of all the best that both the lodge and the Strong family had to offer. There were nightly cookouts for the lodge guests, guided tours of the property, vendors, a rodeo, a parade, a chili cook-off, and all manner of festivity.
The vendor booth for Bright’s company,Jackson Strong, was situated between his wife’s booth and Church’s booth. Bailey’s booth showcased her bed and breakfast,Stronghart Manor. I couldn’t really tell what Church was selling, but Manor Days officially kicked off at 9:30 a.m., and by 10:00 a.m., Church had a long ass line.
“What’s your sister-in-law over there slingin’?” I asked Bright. “I know the line ain’t that long for beard oil.”
Bailey overheard me ask about her sister. “Church and Mari’s haircare products actually are that girl,” she informed me. “They usually only sell wholesale to salons, barbershops, and stuff. These vending events are the only opportunity regular folks have to get their hands on the product. They show up and show out for Apple Head.”
“Apple Head?”
“It’s the name of their company.”
I watched Church and the woman working with her service the customers and work to keep the line moving. When she was talking shit in my face about having things to do, I paid her no mind, thinking she was just one of those spoiled, whining-ass chicks. But looking at the line, it dawned on me that she probably spent the last few months preparing for this event.
Seeing her in action made me better understand the urgency of having a production room at her house. Yeah. I would stop bullshitting and get her project done for her. If she was as young as my cousin thought she was, and she was on her shit enough to have the long-ass line she had, she needed support. I would give it to her.
Chapter 5
Church
The line to my and Mari’s table was almost triple the length of every other vendor’s line—even the lines for food. I felt grateful, blessed, and overwhelmed all at the same time.
“There’s no way I’m gonna have enough product for all of these people,” I told my oldest sister, Perkins, who had agreed to help out. “I’m halfway through both the Apple Repair Hair Breakage Serum and the Roots Renew Scalp Nourisher. And let’s not even talk about the Apple Alpha Beard Oil.”
“It’s good if you all sell out, Churchy. That keeps interest high,” Perkins said.
“Plus, we can only do what we can do,” Mari reminded me. “This is a small business. We’re making this stuff basically by hand. We don’t have some big manufacturer creating it for us. It’s small-batch, personally touched, and quality controlled. If that’s not what they want, then they can go to the hair supply store and pick up something made with chemicals and stuff that breaks our hair off and dries it out.”
Even with a five-product maximum purchase per customer and a price point well above what you could spend at the big-boxstore, we sold out. It wasn’t even noon before Mari and I started breaking down empty boxes and cleaning out the booth.
Once the booth was back to its original state, I checked on my family to see if they needed any help at their booths. When I determined that everybody’s booths were good, Marigny and I decided to enjoy Manor Days like visitors.
We stopped by the Good Ashes booth. Good Ashes was the premier restaurant at Manor at Sienna Sunset Resort, and it was run by my brother-in-law, Brewer. I got an order of mini-Dungeness crab cakes and a festival-sized portion of truffle fries. Then we stopped at Bailey’s booth. The chefs at the bed and breakfast were a husband-and-wife duo who made upscale soul food with a New Orleans twist. Both Mari and I loved their banana pudding shooters.
Once we had our food, we just bopped around, taking in anything that interested us. Not long after we finished our food, an announcement came over the strategically placed loudspeakers that mudding would start in twenty minutes out in pasture twelve.
The lodge sat on over three hundred acres. To get to pasture twelve, Mari and I had to hop on one of the lodge’s trolleys that was taking visitors that way.
Before I moved to Jackson Falls, I had never even heard of “mudding.” But since the move, I’d discovered that it was a popular pastime. Riding ATVs, monster trucks, or trucks sitting on thirty-inch rims through pits of mud was something I’d never done. The thought of driving around in mud, getting beyond dirty, didn’t necessarily appeal to me. But I didn’t mind watching other people indulge.
We made it to pasture twelve in time to find standing room on the edge of the mudding course. There were about fifteen competitors set up at the starting line.
“Look. There’s Beck.” Marigny pointed. I followed her finger until I spotted my brother-in-law. Of all my brothers-in-law, Beck was the least surprising for me to see. He owned an outdoor adventure tour company. He loved nature, wilderness, and stuff like that. Mudding was right up his alley. Bright and Brewer were the more “pretty boy” brothers-in-law. I couldn’t imagine either of them liking to be dirty, although Bright worked in construction.
Mari pointed out more of the competitors that she recognized. Since she was born and raised in Jackson Falls, she knew almost everybody. Before she could point him out, I spotted Jones. Our eyes met, and our gazes held for longer than they should have. His tongue came out of his mouth, slowly tracing along the contour of his plush-looking lips. Even though I willed myself to look away, it was like my mind couldn’t get the message to my eyes. Then he winked. He knew what he was doing, and he knew my response to it.
I gave him a smile, then mouthed the words, “Fuck you,” before finally tearing my gaze away.
