Epilogue
E’Levyn ‘Lev’ Laurent
By the time the sun slipped behind the Miami skyline, the reception had loosened up enough for everybody to stop acting like they had somewhere important to be.
The formal part of the night was over. Navy had thrown her bouquet into a crowd of women who nearly tore each other apart trying to catch it, the cake had been reduced to a few slices near the dessert table, and one of her uncles had been escorted off the dance floor after trying to drop into a split like his knees hadn’t been warning him for the last twenty years.
The DJ had eased music and into some old school and now had everyone doing the electric slide to ‘Taste Like Candy’ by Cameo, while waiters moved between the tables gathering champagne glasses, half-finished plates, and napkins that had fallen beneath chairs.
I stood near the edge of the dance floor with Mike talking in my ear, but I hadn’t heard much of what he’d said in the last few minutes.
Every time I tried to pay attention, my eyes found their way back across the room.
Navy was seated at one of the front tables beside my grandma, and the soft curls around her face were beginning to fall from all the dancing.
She still had on that dress, though. The same one that had taken every clear thought out of my head when those doors opened, and she came walking toward me.
The slit had shifted just enough to show part of her prosthetic beneath the ivory fabric, and she wasn’t tugging the dress over it or checking to see who might be looking.
She sat with one leg crossed over the other, laughing at something Grandma said, her wedding ring flashing every time she lifted her hand.
Yeah, that was my wife. I had called her that before the officiant made it official, but it felt different now in a good way, more permanent. Mike followed my stare and let out a dry laugh. “You done looked over there about thirty times since we walked off that dance floor.”
“I know where I been looking.”
“I’m just making sure. Thought maybe you forgot she ain’t going nowhere.”
I glanced at him. “You worried about me too much.”
“Nah, I’m worried about you embarrassing all of us. You been standing over here smiling to yourself like you ain’t never seen a woman before.”
I looked back at Navy before answering. “Ain’t never seen that one before.”
Mike made a face like he was about to say something slick, but I ignored him.
Navy caught me watching and lifted one eyebrow, with her mouth curving into a knowing smile.
She had been doing that all evening, checking for me, finding me wherever I was in the room and giving me that same little look like we shared something nobody else could reach.
I smiled back before taking a slow drink from the glass in my hand.
The whole night had moved way too fast. One minute I had been standing beneath that arch trying to keep myself together while Navy walked down the aisle.
The next, we were cutting cake, taking pictures, being pulled into conversations, and thanking people I barely remembered inviting.
I understood why people spent so much money hiring photographers.
Without pictures, half the day would’ve disappeared before I had a chance to hold on to it.
Still, there were parts I knew I would never forget. Navy’s face when the doors opened. The sound of her heel against the aisle runner. The way she looked at me during her vows when she said I never made her feel like the best parts of her had been left in that parking lot.
That sentence had nearly put me on my knees.
I had spent most of the year trying not to think about that night more than I had to.
There were memories I kept locked away because letting them out didn’t change anything.
Rome had changed hers enough and he didn’t get to keep breathing like nothing happened.
I had made that decision before the police finished processing him.
When word reached me that he was being transferred to the same prison as my brother, I didn’t need to explain much.
Cev was ruthless and he knew my voice. He knew when I was asking and when I wasn’t.
I told him Rome wasn’t supposed to leave that place alive, and I told him I didn’t care what it took to make that happen.
After that, I left it alone. Some things didn’t need to be discussed twice so when I got word Rome was no more, that was that.
A burst of laughter pulled me back into the room. Navy had leaned toward Lulu, whispering something that made both of them laugh, and the sight eased the tension that had started forming between my shoulders. Tonight belonged to us.
Mike slapped my arm. “You hear me?”
“No.”
“I said I’m about to go find me another drink. You want one?”
I looked down at the glass I was still holding. “I got one.”
“That same drink been in your hand for twenty minutes.”
“Then why you asking?”
I shook my head as he walked away, still talking to himself.
The DJ changed to another throwback and a few more couples drifted onto the dance floor.
Lulu had reached over and taken Navy’s hand, their heads bent close while they talked.
For a second, I considered going over there and stealing my wife back.
Then the ballroom doors opened and the sound wasn’t loud enough to turn the whole room at once, but I was paying attention and the brass handles clicked, as the heavy doors eased apart, and cool air from the hallway slipped into the warmth of the reception.
I glanced over without thinking much of it because guests had been leaving and coming back all night.
The dude standing in the entrance had me thinking that I was seeing shit.
For a second, my mind refused to make sense of what my eyes were seeing.
He was dressed in a black suit with no tie; the first few buttons of his shirt was open beneath the jacket exposing his tattoos.
His hair was freshly cut, his beard was lined clean around his jaw, and prison hadn’t taken a damn thing from the way he carried himself.
He stood inside the doorway with one hand in his pocket, and his broad shoulders relaxed, looking around the ballroom like he had all the time in the world.
He had the same eyes as mine, the same mouth, and same Laurent blood written across his face only he was darker than me. It was my brother Cevyn.
Mike came back and noticed him a second after I did. He had been halfway toward the bar when he stopped so suddenly the man behind him nearly walked into his back. “Nah,” he said, staring toward the doors. “Man, what the fuck?”
That got the attention of the people closest to him. As conversations began and heads turned toward the entrance. I heard a chair scrape against the floor, then BJ’s voice came from behind me, with disbelief. “My baby…”
I couldn’t look at anybody else. Cev’s eyes found mine across the ballroom, and the slow grin that spread over his face took me back years. Before prison, before money, before life split us in different directions and forced both of us to become men quicker than we should’ve had to.
He started toward me and I moved at the same time.
Neither one of us rushed because we had never been the type to run into each other’s arms or put on a show for people watching, but the distance between us felt too damn long.
When we finally met near the center of the ballroom, we clasped hands hard enough for our palms to crack before I pulled him into me.
His shoulder hit mine, my free arm locked around his back, and for a few seconds I held on longer than I normally would’ve.
Damn, he was real, he was home. Cev laughed low against my shoulder. “Damn, nigga. You missed me that much?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He pounded my back twice before we stepped apart. I kept one hand on his shoulder, looking him over as if I could find an explanation written somewhere on him. “When they let you out?”
“This morning.”
I raised a brow. “This morning?”
“A few hours ago.”
“And you ain’t call me?”
“Man, I would’ve ruined the surprise.”
I looked at him for another second, then shoved the side of his head. “You still on that hardheaded shit.”
He caught my wrist and pushed it away, grinning. “Learned from you.”
The room erupted around us then. Mike came charging over, cursing and laughing loud enough to have all the attention from every corner of the ballroom on us.
BJ reached Cev before anybody else could, wrapping both arms around him and pressing her face against his chest. Whatever smart remark had been on his tongue disappeared.
He bent over her without hesitation, closing his arms around her while she cried into his suit.
“You could’ve told me,” she fussed, pulling back only far enough to slap his chest. “Had me sitting in here not knowing my grandbaby was on his way home.”
“You would’ve told everybody BJ.”
“I would not.”
“Grandma.”
She wiped beneath her eyes. “I might’ve told one or two people.” She smiled.
“Exactly.”
BJ was just crying, and Cev wrapped her in another hug. More family crowded around, touching him, asking questions, pulling him into embraces before he could answer the last person. I stepped back and watched it for a moment.
Cev had always moved through our family like he belonged to everybody.
My brother was Grandma’s baby, Mike’s day-one, the cousin people called when they needed something handled.
Prison had taken years from him, but it hadn’t erased his place.
The second he walked into that room, everybody shifted to make space like he had only been gone for a weekend.