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Stella has already moved to New Jersey to work on her new studio. When she found her studio was once again available, and for twenty percent less even, I thought she was going to faint. She did cry, though. A lot. I know that in her heart she considered that studio a lost cause.
Max, however, stayed in New Orleans to manage my gallery for me. He will oversee renting it out to artists and I couldn’t be more grateful. I can’t even think about selling my grandmother’s place, and Max is so wonderful at managing it, I didn’t dream of asking anyone else. I know I don’t have to worry about anything with him in charge.
Dante has already purchased me a studio space in the heart of New York’s art district. He called it an early engagement gift. I call it typical Dante. He also wants me to keep my studio in his penthouse in New York, and I’m only too happy to do so. I love the idea of being able to work while waiting for him to come home so we can share an evening together. Sometimes, he likes to come in and just stand silently in the doorway, watching me create my art.
Today, we are all gathered at Mrs. Kendall’s. We’ve been working on the final touches. It’s so exciting to see how well our clubhouse plan has come together, and everyone is happy and proud with the way it’s turned out. Dante has been contributing, too. He brought some furniture the other day that his dad had made. It was heartwarming to see the pride shining in his dark eyes as he talked about his father’s craftsmanship.
But as we all gather in the garage that I’ve been using as a studio, I feel a bit nervous. I’ve been working on a secret project and I’m going to unveil it to everyone today. I look around at all of my friends and see Dante’s encouraging smile. Earlier, we brought in a table and put snacks and drinks on it. Now everyone is sitting around talking and laughing.
Dante nods his head, gesturing toward the easel where my secret project is covered by a white cloth. I nod back at him but take a deep breath. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. It’s not like everyone here hasn’t seen my work before. I guess it’s because this is a special painting meant for the clubhouse and I want everyone to love it.
As I walk toward the easel, everyone quiets down. I stop in front of it, then stand off to the side. My hand hesitates on the cloth for a minute as I look at my friends.
“Kylie, you’re a great artist,” Sam says, grinning. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll love it.”
“Is it another dick pic?” Madi asks hopefully, her eyebrows waggling up and down suggestively. She grins at Sam. “You know which one I’m talking about, right?” Sam nods and laughs. “The guy is ripped and lying naked in bed except for the sheet partially covering his giant?—”
“Madison, please!” I beg her. I’m absolutely mortified. A quick glance at Dante shows him smiling smugly.
“Whatever,” Madi shrugs. “I tried to get her to sell it, but she won’t budge. And she won’t tell me who the model is either! His face is hidden so I can’t tell, but who cares? I mean, the man has the body of a god, that’s all I need to know.” I almost groan out loud when she clutches her neck in mock ecstasy.
Jaxson stiffens, then excuses himself from the group. He stalks past everyone and goes into the kitchen. I frown at his stoic expression, wondering why he left without a word.
“What’s up with him?” I ask, nudging my head toward Jaxson’s retreating back.
“Chefs don’t like to hear someone praise another chef,” Madi says.
I don’t get the reference, but apparently Sam does. She laughs and claps her hands, bending over at the waist, causing Asher to release the arms that he had wrapped around her.
“Okay, no more stalling,” Knox says, looking at the covered painting. “Show us what you got.”
I nod, then remove the covering. The painting highlights the treehouse, the place that means so much to all of us and is the reason why we’re here today, creating a clubhouse for neighborhood children. Inside and around the base of the tree children are laughing and playing.
“That is absolutely perfect!” Sam cries out.
Knox stands and walks over to the painting, looking at it from every angle. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one, Kylie,” he says, then turns and gives me a hug.
Madi, usually the loudmouth of the group, doesn’t say anything. At least not with words. Her eyes, though, are very telling. I’m amazed to see a little sheen of tears building up.
Dante puts his arm around me. “I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he says, then bends to kiss me on the cheek. “And if anyone complained,” he whispers in my ear, “I’d beat them up for you.”
I throw my head back and laugh. I love this open and funny man Dante is finally allowing out in public.
Dante and I walk over to the table to join the others. Now that the big reveal is done, we all grab paper plates and start filling them with finger sandwiches, potato chips, meat, cheese, fruit, and a host of other goodies we’d put together.
Dante brought a couple of bottles of expensive champagne, which he opens and pours into everyone’s glasses. It’s kind of funny drinking fancy champagne out of plastic disposable cups, but no one seems bothered by it. Not even Dante.
“Here’s to the clubhouse,” Dante says, raising his red plastic cup.
Everyone raises their cup and we all take a sip.
“Here’s to Mrs. Kendall, who brought us back together after all these years,” Knox says. He looks between me and Dante and winks, a smile spreading across his face.
This time, everyone cheers louder. We really do owe Mrs. Kendall a lot. She made our lives so much better when we were kids. Without her and the treehouse, I wonder what would have happened to us. I mean, sure, we’d probably be fine, but afternoons spent here telling our secrets and sharing our fears really brought us together back then.
Just like it’s doing again now, years later.
After we finish eating, Madi, Sam, and I clear the table while Dante and Knox bag up the trash and set it out by the garbage cans.
