35. Cori #2
Deck blushed profusely as he stood and waved at the crowd. I choked up noticing Michael and María staring teary-eyed at their son. Emilio gave him a thumbs-up before turning it into a middle finger salute, which Deck and Marisol laughed at.
Just as Deck sat back down, Cruz snuck in from the back, finding his place at the table and muttering, “Sorry I’m late.”
He didn’t offer an explanation, and Deck didn’t demand one. He clapped Cruz on the back with a simple, “Glad you could make it.”
Dragonflies did gymnastics in my stomach when we reached the part of the program where the president of the board of directors would ask everyone to donate.
I gritted my teeth as my knees bounced beneath the table, vibrating in anticipation as he made his way to the stage. Deck slipped his clammy hand over mine.
As the board president walked to the podium, a stomping noise behind me caught my attention.
Turning in my chair, I noticed a man striding purposely toward our area of the gym.
Our tables were on the far side of the room as we’d reserved the prime tables in front of the stage for major donors, so he wasn’t drawing too much attention.
But by the look on Rosa’s and Marisol’s faces, I wondered if there was about to be a problem.
The man’s eyes settled on Rosa’s table.
“Ricardo!” the man whisper-shouted. “I told you not to come tonight!”
Deck leaned into my ear. “Reign’s dad?”
“I assume. I’ve never seen him.”
But Rosa clearly recognized the man. There was steel in her eyes as she said, “Don’t make a scene, Terrence.”
Reign, seated between Quincy and Jayden, seemed to shrink into themselves, staring wide-eyed at their father.
“I don’t care,” the man snarled. But he lowered his voice and continued, “I told Ricardo not to be here tonight. You and I had an agreement, Rosa. He can come to the Center. It’s certainly better than having him sulking around at home, but all this”—he waved in the general direction of his child—“can’t be put on display. ”
Rosa’s gaze narrowed. “Reign is being recognized for their artwork and tremendous contribution to the Center. The only thing being put ‘on display’ is their excellent mural.”
“Don’t call him that,” Terrence hissed.
Reign cowered in their chair, almost like they were trying to disappear. Their behavior was the opposite of the kid I knew, the one full of piss and vinegar, as Deck’s dad would say.
Nervous chatter began at the donor table next to ours.
“Should we say something?” Deck asked.
“No,” Marisol replied. “Rosa can handle it. Intervening would just draw more attention.”
“That the kid you were telling me about?” Cruz asked Deck quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck that shit.” Cruz shook his head, frowning. “That kid’s just tryna live his life. His pops needs to chill.” Cruz’s gaze lasered on Reign, and I knew he noticed the resemblance to Eliazar.
“Get up, Ricardo. We’re going home,” Terrance insisted.
Reign remained frozen in their chair. It was Jayden who said to Terrence, “Can’t you just go, man? Give Reign tonight. They’ll be home later if you need to yell at them or whatever.”
Wow. Go, Jayden.
“Who are you?” Terrence demanded.
Jayden schooled his features. “I’m just a kid. But even I know this event ain’t about you or your issues. Reign wants to stay, and more important things are happening here.”
Standing firm in his ill-fitting suit, Jayden eyed Terrence levelly. Gloria looked like she might explode with pride. Deck too.
Terrence glared at Reign but also seemed conscious that he was beginning to draw attention. “We’ll talk about this later,” he spat. “Don’t think we won’t.”
Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll make sure Reign is looked after.”
“Ricardo! It’s fucking Ricardo!” Terrence snapped under his breath before turning to leave.
Jayden looked at the handful of folks from nearby tables who’d been close enough to hear the exchange. “It’s definitely Reign, not Ricardo,” he told them.
I watched Jayden put his hand on Reign’s shoulder, grateful that the two had formed a solid friendship.
The board president had finished up his remarks and was about to make the ask. I was thankful his speech had been long enough to give me a few moments to breathe after Terrence’s departure, but I worried about its dullness. That it wasn’t impactful enough to inspire people to give.
After the official ask, the emcee called for donations at the highest level, one hundred thousand, followed by seventy-five thousand, fifty thousand, and twenty-five thousand.
I took out my phone to calculate the total as we went.
To my dismay, one of the donors who had verbally committed to seventy-five only raised her paddle for twenty-five.
Another had gone down from fifty to twenty-five.
Shit! Those things always happened, but we really couldn’t afford to lose any more.
At least Jason, Brad, and Graham had each committed to twenty-five.
By the time all the high dollar gifts were accounted for, the total sat at just over four hundred thousand. My phone buzzed.
ANA: We should have been at five after the large gifts. Damn!
ME: There are hundreds of people in this room who haven’t raised their paddle yet. We could still get there.
ANA: It’s hard to do with nickels and dimes.
Instead of texting back, I met her eyes across our tables and frowned. The tumbling in my stomach intensified.
“Not where you need to be?” Deck asked.
“Getting to eight would be a stretch,” I admitted. I leaned close to him. “Thank you so much for being here.”
He kissed me lightly on the forehead. When he pulled away, six pairs of eyes stared at us.
Marisol and Emilio smirked. María put a hand to her chest as Michael and Juan gave Deck approving nods. “’Bout fuckin’ time,” Cruz mumbled.
The emcee moved on to the ten thousand dollar level, and a few takers raised their paddles, including Britta and Marcus.
At five thousand, more paddles went up, and even more at one thousand.
But in the end, when the last call for two hundred and fifty dollar donations went out, we stood at just over seven hundred thousand.
“I’m going to just fill in the gap,” I said to Deck. “I’ve been fighting it this whole time, but we need to hit this goal.”
Deck squeezed my hand. “Cori, you can do that, but I know that’s not what you wanted. You’ve already given so much, not just to the event, but by subsidizing my supplies and all the subcontractors we’ve used. The Bank of Cori can’t always be the solution.”
“Just for tonight, Deck,” I insisted. “So everyone can have this win.”
My phone buzzed again.
ANA: It’s a bit short of what we were hoping, but it’s a lot more than we’ve ever made at this event before.
She followed it up with a thumbs-up emoji that felt especially flat.
“Cori—” Deck began.
“It’s fine, Deck.” I gave him a soft look.
“Even if I do have to swoop in to make sure this gala is a success. That doesn’t mean I forgot that I have people to depend on.
” I stood and started making my way to the podium to let the emcee know I’d be adding one hundred thousand to the total.
It was a lot of money, especially on top of the donation I’d already committed to, but I couldn’t see another way.
Deck followed me. “But you’re always the swooper. I didn’t want you to swoop tonight.”
I chortled as he made the word ridiculous. “I’ll swoop for you anytime,” I whispered.
“No. It’s my turn.”
Before I knew what was happening, Deck brushed past me and made his way to the front.
The emcee, who had been in the process of thanking everyone as he waited for event volunteers to calculate the total for the crowd, looked at me for guidance as my determined-looking boyfriend bumrushed the stage. I shrugged.
Deck tugged on the mic, and the emcee had no choice but to surrender it.
“Hello, everyone. Apologies for interrupting. You may recall that my name is Artie Decker, but everyone calls me Deck. I was the one who had the honor of doing repairs on the Center. Hope y’all enjoyed those bathrooms.” He paused, drawing a breath.
“Anyway, I want to ensure that everyone in this room understands what a special night this is. Not just for the Center, but also for…for the woman I love.” His arm raised in my direction.
Part of me wanted to put my head down as hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed on me. Instead, I found myself gazing directly at Deck as a near-silent, “I love you,” fell from my lips.
Deck continued, “And when you love someone, you’d do just about anything for them. Even make an ass of yourself in front of a room full of strangers.”
A titter of laughter rippled through the crowd. Cruz snorted loudly.
Deck grinned at him before sobering his features.
“There are a lot of great things about this neighborhood. Our little piece of a city that’s a mixed bag of rich folks, poor folks, white collar, blue collar, and everything in between.
Some of the best people in the world live here.
But for myself, and for most of the people I knew as a kid, nothing came easy.
Most of the kids who go to the Center would relate.
“One thing about growing up when you don’t have a lot is that you expect defeat.
Sometimes it feels impossible to find your place.
My six siblings, they all seemed to go about life so effortlessly.
But not me. I think that’s why I was the one who became ‘Deck,’ even though we all have the same last name. It was my way of asserting myself.
“Lots of young people feel like they can’t find a foothold in their own life.
So they tell themselves the story of how they won’t amount to much.
I sure did. Except that’s the magic of the Center.
” His eyes darted over to Rosa’s table, where Reign and Jayden sat listening.
“The Hope Center is the place for them. Here, kids get a reminder that all youth are amazing and can do great things. Just as they are. You don’t have to expect defeat.
Unfortunately, my effort to find myself took me down the wrong path, but I’m grateful the Center was here for Cori when she needed it most, and now for kids like Reign and Jayden.
Make no mistake, the Center changes lives. Saves them.
“The Center has done a lot for this neighborhood. Now it needs our help. We need to make sure every kid has the opportunity to write their own positive story. Please be generous. Let’s not accept defeat.”
There was silence in the room for a moment before the emcee took hold of the mic again. “Let’s give it up for Mr. Artie Decker!”
The crowd applauded, and the emcee took that as approval to say, “How about we give everyone a chance to raise their paddles again? If you already gave five thousand, maybe you can give another five hundred, or if you gave one thousand, maybe another two-fifty…”
He continued making his pitch. It was unlikely that we could obtain the remaining funds we needed. If Ana had drilled one thing into me, it was that most guests came to an event like the Gala for Kids with a number in mind and very few could be persuaded to adjust it.
But I would forever hold in my heart the memory of Deck trying to move the needle on my behalf.
The emcee began asking for more bids at the five thousand dollar range, and I was surprised to see a few paddles go up. But screw it. Whatever would be would be. I stopped counting as Deck pulled me off to the side of the stage to watch.
“That was unreal,” I whispered in his ear. “I can’t believe you said all that, but I’m so grateful you did.”
Paddles continued to go up at the one thousand dollar level.
“It was all for you, baby. I hope you know that I’ve found my own story to tell about the Center.
It’s a love story. A long, twisty love story full of bumps and bruises and near misses for falling off course completely.
Being here allowed me to open my heart and tear down my walls so that the love of my life could step over them.
Now I know for sure that my place has always been with you. ”
“Me too,” I breathed out, resting my head against his shoulder as he slipped an arm around my waist.
More paddles rose at the five hundred dollar and two hundred fifty dollar levels. When it was finished, my phone rattled again.
ANA: Thank Deck for me, will you? We’re still about 20k short, but that’s nothing.
She was right. Seven hundred eighty thousand was close enough. Like the win Deck wanted me to have. I breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good knowing he had my back. I could get used to it.
Suddenly, a shaky voice rose from the main entrance to the gym.
“I want to donate fifty thousand dollars!”
To my shock, Mia stood in front of the double doors, puffing air as though she’d been running. It took me a moment to recognize her, but she exhibited the same resolute look on her face that she’d had that day at the corner market.
Registering the eyes on her, she cringed but didn’t falter, walking demurely toward the emcee. The crowd quieted. Everyone heard as she said, “I’m, uh, sorry I’m late. And I don’t have one of those paddle thingies. But I want to donate fifty thousand.”
“Well then.” The emcee beamed at her. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
My phone went nuts as Ana sent three quick texts in a row filled with nothing but exclamation points. We’d more than hit our goal.
Thanks to Mia.