Page 111 of Out of the Blue

Juanita leans over. “I’ll never get used to hearing you called by a nickname.”

“Don’t you try it. Only Trent.”

My sister smirks.

Trent’s fingers strum the mic. “Today has been a dream for my wife and me. Seriously. But I have one thing I need to say, and now’s the right time.” He turns to Brax, whose eyebrows raise to the ceiling. “As everyone here knows by now, I found out who my father was by reading my mother’s diary after—she passed away.” He pauses for a moment. “And I was rocked off my ass.”

Everyone laughs, including me. Pretty accurate description.

“Despite everything, I met Brax as the lead singer to the band TLR was opening for. I wanted to hate him, but I found I just couldn’t.” He gives his father a nod. “I admire your talent so much, and how hard you work to make Hunte even better. After you gave me your kidney, we really started getting to know each other. I can’t express how amazed I was that you agreed to donate it to mebeforeyou knew who I was. To you. And you offered to do it anyway.”

Trent’s speech is interrupted by clapping. When it dies down, he continues, “Since the transplant, I’ve actually become friends with Sara, King, and Melody. The Hunte family’s the best. I’m floored by their talent and humbled by their friendship.”

Trent and Brax turn and clap at their family, and I join in the applause with all our guests.

My husband takes a deep breath and I hold mine. Having an inkling where this is going, I send him all the good vibes I can muster.

“I’m doing a bad job of this!” He pulls on his dreads. “I wanted to say here, in front of everyone, I’m super proud you’re my father, and to be a part of your family, Dad. If it’s okay, I’d like to put a hyphen to the end of my name so Cordy and I will be known as the Washington-Huntes.”

Although we’ve never discussed it, I couldn’t be happier. My left hand raises in front of my open mouth as Brax pulls Trent in for a hug. Sara, King, and Melody wrap me in their love. Sara murmurs, “This means so much to Brax.”

Before I can respond, I’m being called up on stage and am enveloped in four arms. Two pairs of distinctive arms belonging to two very different men, sharing the same blood. When we separate, I catch Auntie Gloria clapping off to the side. While Trent and Brax both wipe tears away, I steal the microphone.

“I only want to add that I’m blessed to be a part of both the Hunte family and the Robinsons. Auntie Gloria is Trent’s mom’s twin, and she’s as instrumental in what just went down as anyone. I can’t express how blessed I feel right now.”

We leave the stage and let the DJ spin some tunes, starting with “To Have and To Hold” by Cole and Rose Manchester. A perfect song to kick off the festivities.

Standing next to my husband, I overhear Brax as he says, “Thank you, son.”

My husband beams at his father. “I meant every single word, Dad.”

It’s at this moment when I realize everything happens for a reason. Mamá bailing on us whenever we needed her. Big Rolls. My finding those photos of my father and a much younger me. My sister’s reaming Trent out for being a jerk—although I did have a long talk with her about her language. She winked and told me it worked. Can’t argue with her.

Yes, all these experiences led me to this moment. In love with a sexy, amazing, talented, flawed, and fantastic man who makes my heart race with one single look. His Washington family—really, the Robinsons. His new Hunte family. And his TLR band of brothers.

Later, I dance with Brax. And call him Dad.

I trip the dance floor with each of the members of TLR and Hunte. Even with Juanita and Rita. Sweet memories sear inside my brain. All too soon, I throw the toss bouquet—Nia caught it, much to Auntie Gloria’s chagrin—kiss Tenor’s head and tell him to be a good boy for Juanita, and hop in a limo going to Newark airport. First-class tickets, courtesy of Trent’s new siblings, take us to the beautiful beaches of St. Lucia. The island has been on my husband’s bucket list forever, since his mother read him a story about it as a kid.

Umbrella drink in hand, I recline in a lounger on the beach. Trent grabs his towel and dries off after a dip in the ocean. I sip my piña colada. “Ahhh. This is perfect.”

“It is.” He drops onto the chair next to mine, his hand skimming over the tattoo on his arm honoring his mother.

I set my drink onto a nearby table. We have one issue to resolve. And I plan on addressing it now. “St. Lucia’s amazing. The food’s beyond anything, and I love the beaches. I mean,” I motion toward the ocean. “Look at all this.”

“No argument from me, that’s for sure.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “The beds are pretty comfortable, too.” He reaches across and skims his fingers over my forearm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, despite the sun beating down on us.

I move my arm and rub it, causing him to laugh knowingly. I refuse to be deterred. “Your mom sure was right on the money about the island.”

His attention diverts to his beer, and he picks up the pilsner. “Yeah.”

It’s now or never. “She was a great mother to you, you know. She didn’t run off with guys. She didn’t leave you to your own devices, much to your chagrin. She didn’t steal your money to go gambling.”

He tips his glass and the beer travels down his throat. “Well, she definitely was my biggest cheerleader.”

“Dwight told me how she always was in the front row, arms over her head, dancing to your music. Even when there weren’t too many other fans there for you.”

He smiles. “She was a sight.”

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