Billy's lemonade stand

I’ve always wanted to open a lemonade stand. My Ma’ says I’d get sick of it after sitting outside for two minutes but I don’t think she’s giving me enough credit. Finally in the middle of my summer break she helps me decorate a cardboard box and make a pitcher of lemonade. 

“Why do you want to open a lemonade stand so bad?” She asks me, as if the reason isn’t obvious.

“Because Billy is dead and can’t have his lemonade stand,” Ma’ sighs,

“Your brother isn’t dead, he just went to college,” I imitate her sigh and place my hands on my hips, doing my best impression of one of dads scowls. 

“He’s dead to me,” Ma’ chuckles but goes back to helping me set up the lemonade stand. Once the stand is set up, Ma’ steps back to inspect her work.

“All done, You think you’ll be good on your own,” 

“Mhm!” I nod my head.

“Alright sweetness, let me know if you need more lemonade,” With that she retreats back into the house and away from the mid-july heat. 

After sitting behind the cardboard box for what feels like hours I get my first customer.  A kid with a buck-toothed grin walks up to the box holding out a dollar and two quarters,

“I’ll have a glass of lemonade miss,” he says with a country drawl. I take the money and stuff it in a jar labeled “Money” In Ma’s flowy handwriting and go to pouring the lemonade careful like Ma’ taught me. With steady hands, making sure I don’t spill, I hand the glass to the boy. He takes it with a grin, wasting no time to take a big gulp. 

“Delicious!” He says, making sure to draw out each syllable. “Thank you little miss,” He says before strolling away. I smile, looking over at the first bit of money accumulating in the jar. $1.50 is enough to buy a chocolate bar! If Ma’d let me.

It doesn’t take long for my next customer to come along. A tall slender businesswoman carrying a laptop bag as she strolls down the street. Her heels clacking as she walks. 

“Why hello princess,” She says, stopping at the stand, “Taking over for Billy I see,” I’m not sure how she knows Billy but I decide not to question it. 

“Yes I am, would you like some?” The woman nods politely.

“Of course,” She says, pulling open her bag and fishing out a light blue wallet. “Just give me a moment,” I start pouring her a glass as she fishes out $1.50, dropping it into the jar. After taking her lemonade she gives me a pat on the head, 

“See you around, princess,” She says, continuing down the street. 

For a while it seems that I’ve already gotten all the sales I’m going to get. I remember Billy coming home with his jar all the way full, he never would let me help out though, he said it’s because he thought I’d try and take all the money for myself. It would’ve been better, sitting out here behind a cardboard box in mid-july if Billy was here with me. He’d make me laugh and pour lemonade when my arm got tired. He’d know all the customers by name, either from school or just hanging around the neighborhood. 

I miss Billy, and all this thinking about him isn’t helping. I try to busy myself with counting the money jar, $3.00 total each time I count. It isn’t before long that tears begin streaming down my face. I stuff the cash back in the jar and bring my hands to my face in a desperate attempt to wipe the tears from my face. A hiccup rises in my throat and all attempts to silence my sobs are futile. Just great, who wants to buy lemonade from a crying girl.

“Hey,” A soft voice says, tugging on a braid, “You okay, Mac?” The voice asks. Wait. There's only one person I know who calls me Mac, 

“Billy?”  I snap my head up to see my big brother, in front of me. “I missed you so much!” I rush up to give him a hug. Once Billy pulls away he stands back to look at my lemonade stand.

“I see you took over the family business,” He says. I nod, 

“It’s not the same when I do it,” I sigh. 

“Well I guess I’ll have to help out tomorrow,” He chuckles. My eyes widen. 

“You’re gonna be here tomorrow?!” I gasp. He nods, before glancing mischievously at our house. 

“Hey Mac, do you want to help me surprise Ma’?” 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“Ma’ There’s a ghost at my lemonade stand,” I tug on her sleeve. She brushes me off, 

“Stop kiddin’ with me,” 

“Ma’” I wine, “I’m being serious, come look,” I tug harder on her sleeve. 

“Fine, fine, I'll be right out,” she swats at me with her hands and I rush to wait for her at the door. “This better be good,” She mumbled as I lead her to the cardboard box. Once we’re standing in front of it she finally speaks. 

“There ain’t nothing out here,” she says, exasperated. 

“Yeah there is, I can hear him,” Ma’ visibly pales. 

“What do you mean sweetness?” She asks nervously. 

“Don’t you hear it too?” at these words Billy starts making your stereotypical ghost noises from behind the box. There is a moment of stillness before Billy pops out, 

“Boo!” He yells, causing Ma’ to screech. 

“Billy?” she asks, tears forming in her eyes. “My goodness, Billy!” She gives him a tight hug before scolding him, just like when we were little.

“You scared me half to death, don’t go teaching your sister to do things like that,” 

We work together to take down the lemonade stand and bring it inside, Billy gives me $2.00 and takes a glass of lemonade, promising me he’ll sell lemonade with me tomorrow. Ma’ says we can even make cookies too, to make the most of the time Billy is home. I don’t want to think about him going back to college, so for now all I’m going to worry about is the future of our lemonade stand.