“Oh, I bet they pulled out their rifles when you said your last name.” He cackles.
“They knew her as Dixon. They assumed that was my name, too.”
“Why didn’t you correct them?”
“It didn’t seem important,” I say.
He huffs. “Of course not,” he mutters.
“That’s not what I meant. I just…”
“What did she leave them?” His voice sharpens. I’m glad his mind has found a new focus.
“I don’t know. I just delivered the letter. They were sorry to hear of her passing. Seems they liked her, and she liked them.”
“She was such a bleeding heart and felt guilty for something that wasn’t our fault.” He makes it sound like a crime.
“What happened between you and them?” I ask the question that motivated me to make this call.
“It was an investment deal gone bad. They knew the risks, and it wasn’t my fault. Or my problem. If he’d been paying attention he would have pulled his money out like I did before things went bad. Then he let his wife lead him around by his dick and talked shit about me to whoever would listen. If I didn’t respect your mother’s memory so much, I’d find a way to get it back.” The venom in his voice isn’t surprising. He hates being outfoxed.
“Why? It was what she wanted.”
“What did he say? Let him know if he is still talking about me, I can make his pathetic life a living hell.” I can hear the sneer on his face.
“Baba, they didn’t even mention you. I was just curious. Forget I asked.” What a disaster.
“Done. Anything else?” He sounds cheerful again.
“When will you be back in DC?”
“Not until next April. You should come to Ghana for Christmas.”
“I’ll let you know,” I hedge. I’d rather work at the firm for another year than spend a family holiday with him. “Baba, I have to go. Paloma is coming for dinner and she’ll be here any minute.”
“Wonderful. Glad you’re using your free will.”
“We’re just friends.”
“You’re a fool to let a woman like her slip through your fingers. But I’ll accept someone else.”
“What a relief,” I mutter.
“As long as she’s from the diaspora. Anywherebutfrom Ghana. Our people are judgmental, nosy elitists.”
“You know you’re talking about yourself.”
“Exactly. So you should listen. She can be fromanywhereelse. As long as her father isn’t a general in somebody’s military or a politician. Clear those bars, and then I’ll judge each one case by case.”
“Most fathers would say things like find someone who respects youand herself. Who is honest and loyal.”
He sucks his teeth. “Most father’s aren’t me. And they don’t have sons like you. I’m telling you to find a woman who understands your position and can help you grow. Not encourage you to shrink. I have to go.”
I hang up and look around the mansion I call home now with resentment.
I wish I was in Arlington with a plate of food in front of me and a sweet-smelling, fascinating woman in the seat next to me.
Thanks to my father, I’m about to lose it all.
