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“She’s not with me,” Dejonae says.
“She and Hadyn were supposed to have arrived already.” Sunny chews her bottom lip.
Alistair’s wife looks up worriedly. “Dawn and Max said they were running late. Maybe Vanya sent a message saying the same?”
While Sunny and Kenya check their phones, Dejonae’s eyes flick to me.What are you doing here?
I jut my chin at her.Can’t I be here?
She scowls.
“I’ll give her a call,” Sunny says.
“And I’ll give our new guest the grand introduction.” Alistair’s wife glides around the table. “Hi, I’m Kenya. We didn’t get to meet formally that night. Everything was so chaotic. But I wanted to thank you for helping us out of a tight spot.”
“You’re welcome.” Dejonae casts me a dark look. “And I don’t blame you for howchaoticthings became. It wasn’t your fault.”
I arch an eyebrow.
She stares daggers at me.
If she is expecting remorse, she will not get any. I can still see that moment at the gala like it happened yesterday. Music pouring into the hallway. The doors opening. A young woman, head bowed on the stage, her heart bleeding all over my piano as she played a raw, emotional version of Brahms.
She was a stranger touching my keys.
Touching my art.
Touching me.
Did anyone expect me to smile and applaud her in that moment? Would anyone welcome such a private and personal invasion?
“Okay then.” Kenya flashes an awkward smile. “Let me introduce the rest of the gang.” She points to her husband who is seated around the table smearing jam on a fry jack. “That’s my husband, Alistair. You met him.”
“I did. Hi.” Dejonae waves with her free hand.
Niko, cutely, waves along.
“The cooking genius responsible for all of these tasty Belizean dishes,” Kenya juts a finger at the crowded table, “is Mama Moira. She has a habit of adopting grown adults and turning them Mayan at heart no matter what race or culture they are, so don’t be shocked if she sews you a cute embroidered outfit and you end up loving it more than your other clothes.”
“Noted,” Dejonae says with an easy laugh.
Niko watches Dejonae laughing and smiles too. I expect Dejonae to ignore my daughter, as so many tend to do. But she drops to one knee and signs out a summary of everything Kenya said.
Kenya waits patiently until she’s finished.
When Dejonae rises again, Alistair’s wife looks at her with fresh eyes. “You know sign language?”
“My sister is deaf,” Dejonae signs.
“Oh.” There’s a moment of pause as everyone soaks in that information.
I have learned that people live in their own worlds, locked into their own bubbles, and until that bubble is popped, they go about believing everyone is exactly like them.
“You should bring your sister the next time she’s in town.” The elder breaks the silence first.
“It’ll be a while before my sister comes home. She’s busy with work.”
“What does she do?”
