“And now…there’s so much more to look forward to.”
We finally pulled up to our destination. I knew it was a little strange to be bringing a dog to a ribbon cutting ceremony, but he was an important part of the family; I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Holding onto Bandit’s leash, I breathed in the not-so-fresh Brooklyn air and looked up at the sign that read, The Jelani Okiro Arts and Cultural Center.
Filled with pride, I couldn’t wait to show Bianca what we’d done to this place.
Bandit and I took the elevator up to the second floor to find Alexandra standing in the foyer. She was holding a clipboard and grinning at us.
“How’s my sister from the same mister?” I smiled.
“Great, brother from another mother. No one from the press has arrived yet, by the way.”
“Good.” I clapped my hands together. “That gives us some extra time to make sure everything is in place.”
“Yes. We need all the time we can get.”
After I set Bandit up with some water in one of the spare rooms, I returned to where my sister was standing and could sense that she was tense. “You okay?”
“I’m a little nervous to see him again.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I know you are.”
Alex would be seeing our father today. He and Myra were in town and planned to stop by the center. Even though it had been a few years since we’d found out the results of the test, Alex had only spent a minimal amount of time with Dexter Sr. It was never comfortable or easy for her. And in all the ways that mattered, she still considered Taso her true father.
About a year ago, I hired Alex as a special projects manager at Montague. One of her more recent assignments had been to oversee the development of the arts center that was built in honor of Jelani. He’d passed away about six months after Bianca and I returned from that fateful trip to Palm Beach. His colon cancer had metastasized despite all of his treatments. When things took a turn for the worse, Bianca and I visited him every day. I think my friend even had a little crush on my Greek goddess—not that I could blame him.
Shortly before he died, I’d told him of my plans to continue his legacy. Even though he was resistant to the attention, he’d allowed me to bring a photographer in to document our final whittling sessions. Large, framed black and white images of Jelani’s hands in action were now placed in various spots around the center along with Kenyan-themed artwork.
Jelani left me all of the wooden sculptures he’d ever made. We had them displayed in glass cases throughout the place. The center featured a woodshop for whittling in addition to other art and music rooms. The non-profit would welcome children and teenagers from all over the borough. All staff would be funded and employed by Montague Enterprises while some supplies and other expenses would be funded through charitable sponsors.
Alex tapped her pencil against the clipboard. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got that Clement kid to agree to fly here one weekend and do a whittling workshop like you asked.”
“No shit? I’ll get to meet my little YouTube nemesis in person. Although, he’s not so little anymore. Finally going through puberty. Makes it a bit more appropriate to be in competition with him now.”
She laughed. “Where’s Bianca?”
“Sam went back to get them. She was running late.”
“Understandable.”
Alex and I spent the next fifteen minutes making sure all of the rooms were in pristine shape.
Back out in the foyer, I asked, “Are Hope and Faith coming?”
“Yeah, Brian’s bringing them.”
“Good. They’ll love it here.”
She looked beyond my shoulders. “There’s Bianca now.”
It was amazing what the mere mention of my wife’s name did to me. The second the word “Bianca” exited Alex’s mouth, the moment brightened for me. That feeling pretty much summed up my entire life now.
I turned around to find my gorgeous woman all dressed up. She looked nothing like someone who’d been up last night with a sick two-year-old. I knelt down, prompting my daughter to come to me. My heart melted every time she’d eagerly run toward me with excitement in her eyes like there was nothing more she needed in the world than to be in her daddy’s arms.
Lifting her up, I kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, Georgina Bina.”
“The Motrin is kicking in.” Bianca smiled. “I didn’t want her to miss this. I know you have the photographer coming.”
“I’m glad she’s here.”
“Are Mom and Dad going to make it?” Alex asked.
Bianca shook her head. “No. Dex and I invited them, but neither was comfortable confronting Dexter Sr.”
Even though Bianca’s parents’ relationship was strained over the years, in recent months, they’d been on better terms. In fact, we’d just had them both over to our house for breakfast the previous weekend. So while dealing with my father was another story, I was happy that things with Taso and Eleni were now cordial, especially for our daughter’s sake.
I turned to Alex. “Do you mind watching Georgina for a few minutes so I can show Bianca around before people arrive?”
“Of course, I don’t mind.”
I handed my daughter to her aunt. Georgina looked just like her mother, and I couldn’t have been happier about that. She was conceived some time before Bianca and I were married. We’d had a lavish ceremony in the city a couple of years ago. At the time, we didn’t know that Bianca was already pregnant.
The weekend after our wedding, we’d flown down to Palm Beach to pick up our wedding cake one year to the day from when we’d ordered it at the cake testing. The bakery delivered it to our private spot on the beach. We took pictures, fed each other a couple of slices, then transported the rest to a senior center down the road.
Taking Bianca’s hand, I led her down the hall to the music room.
She jumped the second she saw it. “Are you serious?”
“Perfect, right?”
The Liza Minnelli statue finally had a permanent home, as did the Elvis painting from Jay’s apartment. I’d picked up other similar pop culture memorabilia to finish off the space. A baby grand piano sat in the corner along with other musical instruments.
“Finally, a place that makes sense for her.” Bianca laughed.
“Right? It’s like all this time she’s been wandering around, looking for a more meaningful place to sneak up on you for the very last time.” I pointed to the giant painting on the wall. “Elvis is here, too. Did you notice him?”
“This is amazing, what you’ve done with this entire place.”
Pulling her close, I spoke over her lips, “I’m glad I can still impress you, Mrs. Truitt.” I stepped back to take her in. Her nipples were protruding through the black material of her dress. “God, your tits look amazing right now. I feel like I need to suck on them.”