Catching our breath, Dex kissed me gently on the lips. He was still semi-hard inside of me as he leisurely glided in and out. “I love you, Bianca.”
“I love you, too.”
“We took some crazy path to get here, but it’s made me realize just how much I’d do to keep you in my life. For what it’s worth, I had no plans to let you go even if it turned out you were my sister.”
“Oh, really? And what exactly were you going to do to get me to stay?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve been doing my research.”
I squinted. “What are you talking about?”
“Full siblings share fifty percent of their DNA. Half siblings only share an average of twenty-five percent of their DNA. It’s not technically inbreeding, it’s called line breeding.”
“You were going to try to sell me on the scientific aspects of sleeping with my brother?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh.”
“I set up an appointment with a genetics counselor to do that.”
“Are you joking?”
“And maybe a psychologist, too.” He laughed, but I knew he was telling the truth.
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy in love with you, Georgy Girl. Crazy in love with you.”
“Everything turned out the way it was supposed to, didn’t it? And we didn’t even have to move to Europe.”
My driver called out, “Did you say something, Mr. Truitt?”
“Uh…no, Sam. I’m talking to Bandit.”
I rubbed behind my dog’s ears. “So, anyway…as I was saying…everything worked out. You didn’t end up at that farm upstate. Neither one of us is screwing our sister, although whatever happened with you in the past is in the past, eh? Your secrets are safe with me.”
“Ruff!”
“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.”
“You compliment my tits every day. What’s any different today?”
“They’re saluting me especially nicely. Not to mention, we’re in that in-between time when you’re not breastfeeding. I get them all to myself for a while.” I bent down to gently kiss over her nipple and spoke into her chest. “Have I mentioned I love your body pregnant?”
“A few times an hour, yes.”
“Can we just keep having babies forever?”
“Who exactly is going to birth these children?”
“Well, I was hoping you would, my Greek goddess.”
She rubbed her four-months pregnant belly. “I think I’m done after this one. Two is good.”
I wrapped my hands around her ass and squeezed. “You said you were done after one.”
“I know…then after I wasn’t pregnant anymore and the heartburn was gone, I changed my mind.”
“Well, then, I’ll just keep hoping that you change your mind ten times over.”
Her eyes widened. “Ten?”
“The truth? If you’d let me…yes. Ten.”
“You’re crazy, but honestly I don’t trust myself not to let that happen, either. There are two main things working against me. One, as soon as I go off the pill, you just look at me and I get pregnant. Two, I can’t resist you. You bat those blue eyes at me, and all I want to do is make you happy.”
“And the problem with this is?” I joked, nuzzling her neck. I had to stop myself before I ended up with a raging hard-on in front of the New York media.
Speaking of the media, Bianca still freelanced part-time for Finance Times but only took local assignments now. Between Georgina and my needy ass, she didn’t have time for much else. She knew I fully supported her going back to work full-time if that was what she really wanted. But what seemed to be making her the happiest as of late was being a wife and mother. I certainly couldn’t complain about having her there when I got home from work. I rarely worked late anymore, too eager to get home to my girls.
I reluctantly gave her one last kiss. “We should get back outside. People will be arriving soon.”
We emerged to find Alex following closely behind our daughter, who was racing around.
“What’s Georgina playing with?” Bianca asked.
“I thought we’d put all of the wooden figures in the display cases,” Alex said. “But it looks like she found one.”
Bianca rushed toward her. “Those aren’t toys. She’s putting it in her mouth.”
“It’s okay. Uncle Jelani wouldn’t mind,” I said. When I took the drool-covered figurine from my daughter, I smiled upon realizing it was the giraffe. The more I thought about it, the more perplexing it was that she even had it. We’d definitely put all of Jelani’s pieces into the glass cases. I’d overseen that process myself. I looked up at the recessed lights on the ceiling for a moment. Hmm. I’d chalk it up to an insoluble mystery even though, deep down, I really wanted to believe that he was here, sending me his blessing.
The local news reporters were beginning to arrive. I eventually took my spot outside, smiling for the cameras alongside my family as we cut the ribbon, marking the grand opening.
Back inside, my father and Myra had just arrived, and I noticed them talking with Alexandra, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else in the world but there. I made it a point to go over and break the ice until I was dragged away for some interviews.
The camera light stung my eyes as it shown over my face. Three reporters shoved their microphones in front of me. I heard one ask, “Tell us why you decided to open up the center, Mr. Truitt.”
I cleared my throat and spoke from the heart.
“I wanted to give back to the community some of what Jelani had given me: a safe place to come and vent my frustrations and where I could also discover my creative potential. When I first came to him for help, it was for the wrong reasons. I was trying to use the idea of honing an obscure, artistic skill in order to woo a woman.” I chuckled. “Over time, I realized that the art in and of itself was so much more important than I ever realized. It was saving me—saving me from my own mind and allowing me to express my feelings in other ways besides words. It was, in a sense, a spiritual experience. The wood whittling had started out as a joke, but it was Jelani’s entire life, and I was beginning to see why. Some people express love through words. Others…through actions. And some…we express it through art. In essence, art is love. I wanted to share some of the love that my friend had given me, because I’ve been blessed with an abundance of love in my life right now.” I smiled. “And I’ve become a damn good whittler, if I do say so myself. Let’s just say, one or two of the animals displayed might be mine.”
A camera flash nearly blinded me.
“Did you get the girl in the end, Mr. Truitt?”
I winked. “I did.”
After my press obligations were finished, I rounded up Bandit to look for my girls. Noticing that Bianca had taken a seat in the corner with Georgina, I took a moment to stare at them.
“Look at them, Bandit. Look how beautiful. Can you believe they belong to us?”
I couldn’t have possibly loved them more.
If there was one word to describe how I felt about my life now, it was gratitude. I was just so damn lucky to have this beautiful family. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I would never take it for granted. The scare we had only made us stronger. There was nothing that made you appreciate someone more than almost losing them.
Bianca looked exhausted, and Georgina, whose cheeks looked like they were burning up, was coughing with a runny nose. I needed to get them home. If I was being honest, there was nothing I wanted more than to get out of here and spend a lazy Saturday lounging on the couch with my family.
I lifted Georgina out of Bianca’s arms. “Let’s go home.”
Bandit took the opportunity to place his head in Bianca’s lap. Between the three of us, she had her hands full.
“You can’t just leave, can you?”
“I own the joint. I can do whatever I want. Things are winding down anyway.”
After saying our goodbyes to my father and Myra, the four of us quietly snuck out and ventured down the hall.
As we entered the elevator, Georgina started to cry. Her medicine had worn off, and she was done, so ready for a nap. Bandit was barking as he often did whenever she cried, which clearly demonstrated why we weren’t getting much sleep lately.
Right after the elevator doors closed, something unusual happened. The lights went out for about three seconds then came back on again before we finally began to descend.
Bianca chuckled. “Well, that wouldn’t have been good.”
“No, it wouldn’t have. As much as I appreciate the reminder of how we met, I’m not sure I could handle two babies screaming at the top of their lungs at once.”
She smacked me playfully. “You loved my balls and my screaming that day.”
“I did. I loved your balls from the moment I first met you, and I especially loved your—”
“Be careful. She understands more than you think.”
“Ruff!”
“So does he,” I added.
We all packed into the waiting Town Car. After Bianca fastened Georgina into her car seat, our d
aughter was finally falling asleep.
Halfway into the ride home, it was actually quiet. A thought occurred to me as I turned to Bianca.
“You never told me what I was opening.”
“What?”
“That fantasy from years back. You kept getting interrupted whenever you’d go to tell me about it.” I rubbed her thigh. “What was it?”
“My fantasy at this very moment would be more along the lines of you opening a carton of ice cream and feeding it to me in bed while rubbing my feet. That sounds divine.”
I bent my head back in laughter. “We can do that.”
She ran her fingers through my hair. “Okay, you really want to know what it was?”
Leaning in, I growled, “Fuck yes.”
“Okay, so it started with you opening my…shit!”
The Town Car came to a screeching halt. My arm instinctively reached out across Bianca’s chest to protect her.
“Sorry about that, folks. Guy cut in front of me, so I had to slam on the brakes,” Sam said.
And that was the end of our peaceful quiet time.
Georgina woke up and began crying hysterically.
I bent down to kiss her head. “Shh…it’s okay.” Taking out my phone, I quickly logged onto YouTube and pulled up the Chance Bateman channel. I scrolled down to the video of his baby girl laughing hysterically at the goat’s noises, hoping it would help calm Georgina down.
She took my phone in her tiny hand, but it didn’t help. She started to cry even harder.
“Ruff!”
Bianca chuckled, “That backfired. Now, we have a barking dog, a goat saying ‘baa,’ a baby laughing, and a baby crying.”
The truth was, I couldn’t imagine my life without chaos. Couldn’t imagine my life without her, without them—without this.