Page 61 of Kisses Behind The Spotlight 2: Finale

I felt a strong pair of hands on my shoulders just as that woodsy citrus scent hit me. Xain gently massaged my shoulders and drove the point home.

“Yeah, you gotta go get your makeup done. I asked her if she could start later, but she said she has an evening appointment.”

“Okay, Icy, please let me know when the pictures get here,” I pleaded as Xain placed his hand on my lower back and led me toward the stairs.

The front door swung open, and Duke rushed through the door with the missing items. Somehow, I forgot them in the office at home.

“See, they are right on time,” Icy bubbled, rushing down the stairs. “I got the pictures. Go get your makeup done. The party starts in 20 minutes. You’ll already be late getting done,” she encouraged.

Taking a deep breath, I headed to the office with Xain on my heels, let Icy put the pictures in their places, and went to get my makeup done. I knew the guests had started arriving because the lounge buzzed and the music started playing.

Xain came back and forth a few times to let me know that everything was okay. When the makeup artist was done, she placed the fan to my face, and I admired her work. I looked the fuck good.

When I finally emerged from the back, Xain stood at the end of the long hallway near the kitchen entrance. Xain’s back was to me, and my God, he was filling out the simple mustard T-shirt and slacks that matched the mustard halter-top dress I was wearing. He held something in his right hand as he stood at attention, taking in the scenery. It was a trait that always made me feel at ease now. The food smelled delectable, and my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten all day and it was pushing two o’clock. I couldn’t wait to get home and put my feet up.

“Here, eat before you go out there,” Xain demanded once I was at his side. He passed me a styrofoam container with a little of everything.

“Thank you, baby,” I bubbled, tilting my head up for a kiss.

Xain obliged and took a sip from his water bottle. I dug into the Caribbean food, going for the rice and peas, then the curry chicken. Everything tasted delectable. I’m sure my lip combo was ruined because I was devouring the food.

“Damn, slow down. The food ain’t going nowhere,” Stepp joked, stepping into the hallway from the lounge area.

“Icy told me to let y’all know that Q is about to give his speech,” Stepp announced. “Find a seat.”

I nodded, mouth full of cabbage. I hurriedly closed the carton and grabbed Xain’s hand with my free hand, then followed him out. Our seats were at the table with Amill, Stepp, Noah, Vincent, and Auntie Anila smack dab in the middle of the lounge. Q’s parents, his other siblings, and their kids were at the next two tables on the left, and James and Sam were on our left side with Amill’s paternal grandparents. The rest of the lounge was filled with distant relatives, business associates, and a few friends sprinkled in between.

Q was already in the middle of the stage, six-foot printouts of the Rolling Stone cover on each side of him. The cover was vulnerable yet powerful. No shirt, surgery scar on full display. The scar was slightly raised and textured, with a mix of lighter and darker pigmentation along the incision. The scar stood out vividly against his dark skin, shaped like a short hockey stick along the lower right side of his abdomen.

The music lowered, and Q took the mic off the stand, looking out at the crowded lounge with confidence. A few of the kids had to be hushed as the room fell silent.

“Good afternoon,” he grinned. “First, I want to say thank you all for coming out today to celebrate such a monumental moment for me. I got the cover of Rolling Stone, and the centerfold, some shit I wasn’t even thinking about until the magazine reached out to me. Of course they wanted to discuss the rap shit, but I wanted to go another direction. Sharing my story and shedding light on some of the struggles transplant recipients face after the surgery is over will always be one of my proudest moments because it was bigger than me. It gave me the idea to start my foundation, and since the magazine dropped, we raised two million dollars, and I thought that was worth celebrating. Shoutout to my wife, Jameera. She donated half of that.”

The room erupted in applause, and Jameera grinned, proudly showing off the scars on her cheek. James made sure Jameera moved forward with her lawsuit against the police, and the settlement had her feeling philanthropic, so she donated half. Jameera made out like a fat rat because the doctors said it would take years for her cheek to heal due to the extensive damage.

Q paused, looking down at the ground for a moment to gather himself.

In the centerfold article, Q spoke openly about his life as a kidney transplant recipient. He described some of the struggles that he still faced and how he planned to help others who found themselves with kidney failure through his new foundation. Reading the article revealed a few things Q went through during his recovery after the transplant. Namely, the fact that his scar was still so vivid after all of these years because he was allergic to the dissolvable stitches used during the surgery.

“To my family, I appreciate you all for being there throughout the darkest days of my life. For not giving up and always supporting me. Especially my wife, Jameera,” he flashed her a smile.

They got married in an intimate double wedding with Stepp and Amill at the beginning of spring. The beautiful wedding was held in Miami, and I enjoyed every second of the pampering that came with being a bridesmaid that weekend.

“And my sister, Amill. They spent half of their senior year in and out of the hospitals with me. That’s why our bond is unbreakable. We are not only here to celebrate my accomplishments, but we decided that it was time to finally come clean about our newlywed secret,” Q paused, stepping to the side.

The projector came on, and the lights dimmed. Two ultrasounds popped onto the screen beside him. Amill’s name was at the top of one and Jameera’s on the other.”

“Awww, congratulations, guys,” I chirped.

Cheers and congratulations erupted in the room. Stepp leaned over and pecked Amill’s cheek, the biggest grin spread across his face. James stood and walked over to Jameera to congratulate his daughter. As they hugged, they shed a few tears.

“Thank you. My wife is crying, so I need to get off this stage. There is plenty of food, endless liquor, and make sure you stop by the hostess station to grab your gift bag on the way out because there is a copy inside. If you have too much to drink, we’ll cover the Uber rides, and yeah. Thank you.” Q sputtered and skipped off the stage to get to Jameera.

“Ya know,” James started after drying his tears. “Since I woke up after the accident, I struggled with reality. I mean, life didn’t feel real. I often have to pinch myself and make sure this shit isn’t a dream I’d wake up from. Hearing about the baby, though, that made me feel something and let me know that life is real. I got a second chance. I get to experience life as a grandparent. A chance to do better than I did when I was a father,” he vented.

“Awwww, daddy,” Jameera’s bottom lip quivered.

Q squeezed her shoulder.