I sputter. “Only in an alternate universe where we have no free will,” I shoot back.
He ignores me and raises his voice a decibel. “The environment is ripe for new alliances and nothing makes people more willing to kiss the ring than an invite to Palm Sunday. Oz agrees.”
His repeated mention of Oz sets my teeth on edge. “You really trust his judgement?”
He sighs. “I do.”
“He stole from you.”
“Oz, excuse me,” he says and there’s a full minute of quiet before he speaks again. “Why are you still holding mistakes he made in his youth against him?”
“He was twenty-five years old, and they were crimes, not mistakes.”
“He’s forty-five now and the head of a very successful consulting firm.”
“One that has ties to countries we’re not on good terms with.”
“Who iswe?”
“The United States of America.”
“Why do you keep talking like you’re an American?” he snaps.
I close my eyes and regret making this phone call. “I am.”
“Only on paper.”
“Dad, I grew up here. I’ve worked for the government for most of my career.”
“You shouldn’t be allied to any one nation. They are false bordersdesigned to keep you distracted and poor.” He scoffs. “I told your mother it was a mistake to let you take that job.”
“Let me?” I sputter, unable to let that dig slide.
“I’ve given you a long leash, Son. But I didn’t get to where I am by not being in control of everything. And everyone.”
I’m rigid with indignation. This is why I left home. This is why I didn’t see my mother for years. “You don’t control me,” I say through clenched teeth.
He chuckles. “Everything you have is becauseIwant you to have it. One call and you would have been blacklisted from every single government agency in this country you love so much.”
“Why didn’t you then?”
“Because I love you. And your mother wouldn’t let me.” He laughs to himself.
“That’s the only reason. I could change your life with the snap of my fingers. Don’t misunderstand the dynamic just because you’ve got your own money now.”
He can’t fathom how little interest I have in money, so I don’t bother to remind him. I’ll let him think whatever he wants. Since my eighteenth birthday, I haven’t done anythingbutwhat I wanted.
As long as I did well enough to give him something to brag about on the golf course, he let me be. This is how I’ve managed to survive being the son of one of the most manipulative and calculating men I’ve ever encountered.
I’ve learned the futility of arguing with my father about this and change the subject.
“I don’t misunderstand anything, Baba. And believe it or not I didn’t call you to fight. I wanted to know. Do you know a family named Sackey? They live in Virginia?”
He scoffs. “Of course. Loser husband, sharp-tongued wife, more children than makes sense. They’re still in the area?”
He doesn’t know she was their landlord. The realization makes me pause. If he didn’t know then she didn’t want him to.
“Yeah, Mom left them something and asked me to deliver it. I met them.”
