The Build Up (93)

Bella turned to the notebook and began talking a mile a minute. “Listen, I know you don’t want to think about it, but I need to know your decision for the open bar. Are we doing a champagne toast at the end? Any particular brand? Also, we need to pick high-boy linen colors. I was thinking gold. I brought cupcakes from the baker to taste. Also, centerpieces...”

I put my hands on Bella’s shoulders. “Relax, Bella. It’s okay. Whatever you decide, I’m here for it. I know it’s going to be beautiful.”

Bella took a deep breath and smirked. “I mean, I want to make sure this is perfect for you. This is a major event. Besides, it isn’t like I helped plan your wedding.”

I looked down at my ring and bit my lip, feeling just a little guilty that my best friend wasn’t there at one of the biggest moments of my life. Porter and I eloped in Spain six months after our arrival. Despite not having family there, our wedding day was perfect. We were married early morning in a small, village Catholic church. We signed the registry, and that was it. My mother almost had an AME-holy-ghost-fit when she learned it was in Catholic church. Eventually, Doris forgave us. Since dating Mr. George, she’d learned to appreciate a few “Hail Mary and we out of here” church services.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to face my intern Justina, who wore a Georgia Tech sweatshirt and sneakers. Her partner Lakshmi, a cute, petite dark-haired beauty, was by her side, holding a box.

“Welcome to your new home, Justina! I hope you found your office up to par. I’m still getting used to the massive layout,” I said as I hugged her with a smile.

“Of course, Ari. It’s beautiful. I can’t thank you enough. This is going to be amazing,” Justina said as she squeezed Lakshmi’s hand. We were lucky one of the top firms hadn’t snagged Justina. After winning several design awards in undergrad, Justina was a rising star in architecture in the city. After graduation, she worked a bit at Riddle and Robinson but left when she and Greer butted heads. No surprise there. Since making partner, word on the street was that Greer had become even more of a raging egomaniac. Even Jacobi left the firm to pursue one of his hidden passions: drag performance. He was a contestant on America’s Top Drag Superstar. He looked amazing but was terrible at lip syncing, though. He was eliminated on the second episode.

Lakshmi shifted the box in her hand. “It is very gorgeous. And is that a picture of a roller coaster in the foyer?”

“It be a train! Da boy painted a blasted train!” yelled Desmond from the foyer as he repositioned the painting for the hundredth time.

I watched Porter as he walked toward me, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a fitted gray V-neck shirt. He was still so sexy, even now with a little gray around his temples. He handed me a bottle of water and took a cupcake from Bella, who slapped his hand away playfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call the firm Harrison Squared, Mrs. Harrison?” said Porter, sinking his teeth into a tower of mint-colored frosting.

I kissed him on the cheek, wiping a little frosting at the corner of his mouth with my finger. “Honey, we’ve had this conversation. I’m Ari James at work. Besides, James-Harrison Designs sounds...”

“Like an old white dude,” said Todd in passing with a wink.

I shook my head. “I was going to say astute,” yelling in Todd’s direction. “Besides, everyone knows I’m your wife. And if you change it now, Mr. George is going to kill you. He just spent an hour putting that logo on the entrance. If he doesn’t kill you, my mama will on his behalf.”

Porter looked at me, a sly grin on his face. “Girl, you know your mama loves me.”

I folded my arms. “Yes, PJ. Everyone loves you. Or will love you.”

Porter looked at me quizzically. “Will?”

“Yes, Porter.” I reached in my bag and handed Porter a small box. “Will.”

Porter sat on the lobby sofa, still covered in plastic. Slowly, he opened the box and pulled out a blue-and-white “Future Hampton Pirates” baby onesie.

Porter’s eyes grew large as two Granny Smith apples. “Are you serious right now? Don’t play with me, Ari! Am I going to be a daddy?” The word daddy echoed in the empty offices. Everyone stopped and turned to look at us. Porter and I had been trying for three years straight with no luck. We went to every specialist in Spain. We completed several rounds of IVF. I winced as I remembered Porter gently administering my shots in the morning. When IVF failed for the final round, I gave up. I was nearing forty-five and thought I was too old. I thought that parenthood wasn’t in the cards.

Porter had never given up hope. “Just relax and it’ll happen. It’ll be easier once we go back home to the States.”

He was right. Once we stopped scheduling sex and shots, it happened. I guess we needed to be where we could feel love. And a comfortable mattress. I hate to say it, but European mattresses felt like sleeping in a tomb. Imagine trying to get busy on one.

Porter held up the onesie, yelling with joy. Desmond almost knocked the painting off the foyer wall. Bella put her hands over her mouth, trying to contain her screams and tears. Eloise and Doris hugged each other so tightly, singing a made-up song about becoming grandmas. Todd, Desmond, and Mr. George came over and gave Porter hearty pats on the back. Todd joked that the baby “needs a Howard onesie instead,” which resulted in Porter playfully putting his brother in a headlock. Justina and Lakshmi hugged me tightly, too.