I opt for the flashlight on my phone instead of the overhead lights and sit at the built-in desk where my father has sat to pay bills every Saturday morning they’ve lived in this house. I grab the old-fashioned Rolodex where my mother still keeps a record of every contact and strike gold.
I scribble down Kwame’s address and make a note of the zip code as Georgetown.
“Perfect,” I whisper. My favorite Vietnamese place is on my way. My mom didn’t say what kind of sick, but there’s almost nothing a bowl of pho won’t cure.
I slink back to the dining room, grab my purse and keys, and slip out of the front door with no one the wiser.
Chapter Eighteen
Kwame
Father Figure
“Be there in five.” Paloma’s text pings just as I’m heading downstairs.
“See you,” I reply and then toss my phone onto my bed.
I invited Paloma over today because I couldn’t stand the thought of spending Sunday alone. Since then, I’ve finished half a bottle of Johnnie Walker, and my mood has shifted from self-pity to anger.
I’ve been avoiding him all week but I’m finally ready to talk to my father. If he pisses me off, I’ll have an excuse to hang up in five minutes. He won’t want to keep talking once he knows Paloma is here.
I instruct my AI assistant to call my father.
“Hello, Kwame.” The voice that answers the phone sounds very pleased with himself and I almost hang up.
Instead, I take a fortifying breath. “Why are you answering my father’s phone?”
“Because he asked me to. Hold.” The line goes dead silent and I growl.
“Hello, Son,” my father says, his voice raspy like he’s been sleeping.
It’s easy to forget that he’s almost eighty most of the time, but tonight he sounds every bit like an old man. “Did I wake you?”
“Nearly, it’s very late here.”
“Where are you?”
“In London.” I glance at my clock. It’s one in the morning there.
“What are you doing there?”
“I had a board meeting. I head back to Accra tomorrow.
“Why is Oz there?”
“He had a layover so he stopped to see me.”
“So was Palm Sundayhisidea?” I ask.
“Ah, you’ve seen the news,” he drawls.
“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me before you announced it to the world? And why are you bringing it back? It was mom’s thing.”
“I may not be living there, but I still need to nurture my relationships in the halls of power.”
“I thought you were done with American politics.”
“It’s a new day in DC. We’ve got a Black woman behind the Resolute Desk, a new crop of politicians in the bordering state houses that my PACs raised a lot of money for. Hell, the governor of Virginia is my neighbor. His daughter and my son might end up married.”
