“Right,” I say, though nerves rise under my shirt collar.It’s been a difficult week with everything converging at once—Olly’s injury, courses ending, this place opening, and Venus leaving.My best saving grace has been Mom, ironically.When she showed up with Venus’s passport in her hand, my fear that I’d never see her again abated, along with my anger at Mom.I even hugged her.
But Venus’s silence tells me she’s still conflicted.Whether about us, the job, or both, I don’t know.She asked for time to think, and I’ve respected that, though I’m desperate to see her.
As if reading my mind, Marnie asks, “Any word from Venus?”
“No, not yet.”
“Buck up, Buttercup,” Dot says, making me smile.“She’ll be here, and she’ll love what you’ve done.”
“Nothing like last-minute changes to keep us on our toes,” Marnie says, her tone somewhat strained.“But everything’s ready—I think.”
Her attention turns to the window as the crowd continues to congregate outside.
“Dot, could you help with traffic control?”I suggest watching cars circling the block.
“Aye, aye,” she says, rushing outside.
“And Eric?—”
“Yes, boss?”
“Entertain the early birds at the door?”
“Okie dokie,” he salutes before grabbing his sword case.
“I’ll do one last round of checks before the doors open,” Marnie says, disappearing down the hall.
I take another puff of my inhaler, my lungs feeling heavy and tightening with each breath.The wooden bluejay catches my eye—it’s perched beside the register.I scoop it into my hand.
“Well, Jay, this is it.What do you think?”A heavy sigh escapes.“Will she show?”
A light tapping at the glass door makes my shoulders pop.Mom, Fred, and Olly stand on the other side, peering in through the glare.I slip the bird into my jacket pocket and let them in.
“It’s a bit chaotic out there,” Mom says as they come inside.“That’s a good sign.”
Fred’s in a button-down, tucked in, with dark jeans, which is about as dressy as I’ve ever seen him.He pats my back, “Congrats, Henry.It’ll be a big hit if that crowd’s any indication.”
“Dad, Grandma says there’s going to be cake.”Olly wears khaki pants with a grass stain on the knee and a green collared shirt that matches his green cast, which he’s already gotten used to wearing—he pretends he’s got one Hulk arm.He musses his brushed hair and pushes up his glasses, awaiting my confirmation.
“CakeandVenus flytrap cookies,” I report with a grin.
“Real food first, Olly,” Mom says.She wears a green satin dress, soft and friendly, and her nerves seem contained, though her brown eyes land on Jay’s memorial, her brow perking as she takes in our work—she helped me finish it.A graffiti-style blue jay wearing a black leather jacket serves as a backdrop for frames and shadowboxes, highlighting everything Jay, from his military service to the museum and how it’s changed over the years, to family pictures, concerts, hobbies, and trips.It doesn’t represent a life lost, but a life lived.
I slip my arm around Mom as she takes it in.“You okay?”
“It’s perfect, Henry.I’m happy to celebrate with you.Happy to celebrate Jay, too… Any sign of Venus?”
“No, not yet.”
“She’ll be here,” Mom says unwaveringly.
Her words restore my confidence.
Soon, the doors open.Marnie and Eric greet guests in the lobby and funnel them into the museum, where Mom, Olly, and I invite them to explore the displays and enjoy the food and drinks.Led by DeeDee, the diner queens circulate with hors d’oeuvres and drinks that sparkle under the ambient lighting.Their sequined dresses sparkle, too, giving the open room a brilliant, colorful glow.The museum soon fills with guests, delighting in lore, legends, and treasures.I overhear phrases that fill me with pride:
Wow, I never knew that happened here.
It’s incredible to think that this is true.
