43. Pink Sparkle Club
43
Pink Sparkle Club
Antonio
A few months later…
Many things changed with the passing of Mickey, yet most things remained the same.
Lilith’s sharp edges became slightly less sharp, but this did nothing to dull her generally unhinged personality. If anything, these new revelations pushed her to double down on her mission to rid the world of its demons, a mission her daughters wholeheartedly join her on.
She decided to stay in the mansion on the Upper East Side, at least for the time being, as she slowly goes through the contents, picking and choosing what stays and what goes. For the most part, everything is staying, but she has happily handed off the odd knickknack and a couple of paintings that had her cringing. I didn’t bother explaining the sheer value of them, and instead donated them appropriately, on a lended basis, with the agreement of full anonymity.
Otherwise, we’ve settled into life together quite easily, given the circumstances. I spend quite a bit of time jetting between America and Europe. Sometimes, Lilith joins me, either for her own business or just because she has nothing better to do than follow me around. Which I secretly enjoy while allowing her the satisfaction of believing she’s actually bothering me.
Now, here we are, all gathered in Declan’s expansive backyard, having something as common as a BBQ.
Having never attended a BBQ, I can honestly say I was intrigued; however, technically, a backyard BBQ seems to be just another word for a gathering of family—whether by blood or by design.
Tony has taken up residence in front of a huge grill. Clementina and Agatha are running around preparing what appears to be mountains of various salads, while Issa and Carolina are jumping around on the ridiculous play structure that takes up a large part of Declan’s yard.
Having lost track of Antoinette and Lilith ages ago, I finally gave up trying to find something to do and grabbed an empty seat in a corner that provided me with a clear view of the entire party. It didn’t take long for Declan to join me, and after a while, I catch sight of Darius as he exits the house and walks toward the outdoor kitchen.
I scan him up and down a few times, frowning as I try to pinpoint why he appears so off to me. Then, suddenly, it dawns on me. He’s missing his trademark suit.
He walks toward me, smiling at people here and there as he passes them, but for the most part, he’s obviously intent on making it to where I’m seated with Declan. This gives me a few extra moments to take in his new attire—dark slacks and a polo shirt— though, while not as casual as he could have gone, it’s a far cry from his typical suit.
He sits across from me, a sigh of relief expelled forcefully as he sets his drink on the table and relaxes back in the chair. He appears to be fine and doesn’t seem to be outwardly in distress, so I ask cautiously, “Are you feeling okay, Darius?”
He raises a brow at me. “Yes. Why?”
“Well, you’re dressed a bit differently, that’s all.”
He glances down at himself, then shrugs. “I figured it was time for a change.”
“A change?” I parrot, briefly at a loss for words. Darius Hughes does not do change in general, so this is either a cry for help or an intervention is greatly needed.
I’m about to question his reasoning when Declan slaps Darius on the arm, laughing. “Big man here decided he’d rather not be associated with the majority of men in suits. He says they’re starting to be representative of evilness and greed, and he wants nothing to do with that kind.”
At first, I frown, then, after a moment of thought, I nod. “Fair point. I’ve never been shot at by a man in a skirt.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been shot at by a woman in a skirt either,” Declan adds helpfully. “May have been poisoned by one, but that’s an entirely different kind of problem.”
“Lack of boundaries and overall personal responsibility knows no gender,” Darius retorts. “However, the vast majority of people who overextend their reach in a bid for endless power are men in suits.”
Darius says all of this as if it’s just an everyday topic of conversation for him, when in reality, this is so out of character for him that it’s almost not funny. Declan must notice my discomfort because he leans closer to me and says quietly, “He watched a video online where a man read a letter posted in The Guardian, and the gist of it was if we’re going to ban any clothing for being dangerous, surely it would be a suit.”
Darius scowls at his brother. “His name is Henry Stewart, and quite frankly, he is not wrong. Historically and statistically speaking, it’s the men in suits who start wars, steal money, and do any other number of despicable things under the guise of business .”
“I know some women in suits who also have no qualms,” Lilith adds from behind me. “But you’re correct, historically and statistically, the duplicitousness tends to stem from men in suits.”
“You know,” I reply, looking down at my suit. “It is certainly something to think about.”
“You don’t have to ditch your beloved suits, Antonio,” Lilith says with a smirk. “We know you’re one of the good guys.”
Smiling, I lift a shoulder, relieved I don’t have to make any declaration without being able to think about it first. I mean, I’m not getting any younger, so maybe it’s time for a change anyway.
I’m saved from having to say anything further when Declan leans in, resting his forearms on the table as he says, his foot tapping, “I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Even managed to come up with some decent lyrics.”
He sits back, his hand sliding under the table, but then Issa is there, her hands slapping him away. He sits back in his chair, glowering at her as she stoops down, reaches under the table, and then stands, holding a guitar in front of her. “What is this?”
Declan smiles innocently. “Oh, how did that get there?”
Issa purses her lips and tsk, “Declan Hughes, you promised no work tonight, and I’m going to make sure you keep your promise.”
He does appear appropriately apologetic, but that doesn’t stop him from saying, “I know, but I’m excited about this new set we’re cooking up. You know how I get when I’m excited about a new song.”
Her eyes soften, and she pats him on the chest. “I know, baby, but too fucking bad. Behave yourself.”
His expression turns slightly sulky as she marches away, guitar in hand, and I chuckle, finding their antics heartwarming. Lilith bends down, pressing her lips against my cheek, and then she takes off across the lawn, joining Carolina and Flora on the play structure.
A touch of sadness washes over me as I watch her chase the little girl, but then she turns back to me, her brilliant smile easing my worries about the past. I know she’s happy. I truly believe she has few regrets at this point in her life, but that doesn’t stop me from occasionally mourning what she didn’t have, what we missed out on.
Something nudges my foot, drawing my attention back to the table. Declan is staring at me as if he’s waiting for me to do something, so I raise a brow at him. “What was that?”
“Does it feel weird?” Declan asks, his expression serious.
Raising my brows, I ask slowly, “Does what feel weird?”
Declan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he appears somewhat frightened, adding to my ever-increasing confusion about what he’s on about. Then he leans over to Darius and whispers just loud enough for me to hear, “Did no one tell him?”
I glance at Darius who’s watching me with a strange expression on his face, so I ask, “Did who tell me what?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Declan mutters, his eyes now looking anywhere but at me.
“I think it’s supposed to be a surprise,” Darius responds nonchalantly, and once again, I find my eyebrows raised as I stare between the two of them.
I’m about to ask a bit more forcefully, then Antoinette exits the house at a run, a whoop of excitement following in her wake. She makes a beeline for Tony, and the next thing I know, he’s wearing a pink sparkly headband and a shocked expression.
Antoinette doesn’t say a word to him; she just spins around and races across the lawn toward Carolina, whose joyful expression is focused on Tony. Antoinette grabs Carolina’s hand, talking animatedly to her as she pulls her back to where Tony is still standing by the grill, though now he’s poking at the headband as if it may explode at any moment.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask with a fair amount of annoyance, not surprised when no one answers me. Everyone’s focus is on Antoinette as she hugs Carolina and then Tony before looking around the yard until she finds Lilith, who’s now standing on the edge of the yard by the stairs.
Antoinette motions for her to come closer, and after a brief hesitation, she does, coming to a stop in front of Tony. “Nice headband.”
“It’s pink,” Antoinette says proudly.
Lilith nods slowly as she replies, “Yes. I can see that.” Lilith looks at the headband and then back at Antoinette, who’s vibrating with excitement. Antoinette gives her mother a very pointed look, which Lilith mirrors, obviously having no idea what the hell is going on.
Agatha appears next to Lilith, and she laughs at the pleading look Lilith gives her. Agatha rolls her eyes, then places her arm around Lilith’s shoulder as she leans in and whispers near her ear. Lilith’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she looks at Carolina who has her hands on her protruding stomach. “Seriously? You’re sure?”
Carolina nods excitedly, and Lilith pulls her into a hug. I watch on, understanding slowly dawning that the nature of this BBQ was actually a gender reveal. Obviously, I knew they’d decided to go forward with embryo implantation, and that the procedure had been successful, but knowing they’re expecting a baby girl is decidedly bittersweet.
Declan once again nudges my ankle with his foot. I look over at him, now grinning at me rather smugly as he says, “So does it feel weird?”
“Fuck off,” I retort with a laugh, refusing to provide an answer to a question that’s frankly none of his business. Declan laughs loudly, Darius soon joining him and then we sit back, watching the celebrations all around us.
The chaotic nature of this group isn’t new to me, but so far, the events of my first backyard BBQ have been nothing like what I’ve read about online.
And I’m not even remotely sorry.