I glance at my laptop and the pile of journals next to it. I was going to spend the day getting ready to make my case to Kathy on Monday. “I have some work to do. I just need an hour.”
She pats my cheek and gazes at me with deep affection in her eyes. “You’re so determined to do things your way.”
I throw an arm around her and bump her with my hip. “Aren’t we all?”
She wraps her arm around my waist. “Some of us more than others. I guess I should be grateful that you usually do the right thing.” She looks up at me with a rueful smile, “Eventually.”
I laugh at her caveat. “I’m glad you can acknowledge that.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you? My daughter who was born knowing her own mind. I admire you as much as I worry for you.”
“Don’t worry, Ma. I’m fine. I’m just finding my way.”
She gets up and walks the door. “The onions are waiting for you to chop. Fry them until they are golden andthensalt, Maggi, shrimp powder and the ground pepper and ginger I’ve left in the fridge. Add the tomatoes and—”
“Stir until my arm falls off,” I finish for her.
She ignores me. “Once you’re finished, I will come and add the rice. You’ve got a heavy hand and I want this jollof to be the best I’ve ever made.”
I ignore her slight dig at my first attempt making this staple and beloved dish. “It’s a holiday weekend. We should just order a tray from Rainbow and call it a day.”
“Aiii. God forbid.” She hisses and snaps her fingers over her head three times. “Store-bought jollof atmytable? No. I’m making it.” She points at me. “You’re going to help me. We can enjoy each other’scompany while we cook.”
“That’s never how it goes,” I mutter.
She ignores me but casts one last glance around my bedroom, her eyes lingering on my overflowing suitcase. A small frown furrows her brow and I know what’s coming. She closes the space between us and strokes my face with her smooth, elegant fingers. “Why did God make you so beautiful and smart if it wasn’t to bring you afinehusband?”
“Mama—” I start only to be cut off by the sharp trill of her phone.
“That will be your father. I have to go. Wash the rice for me, please.” She disappears from the door as quickly as she appeared.
As much as I hate her continuing to believe that Stephen is a good catch, it’s less problematic for me than the can of worms telling her the truth of what happened between us would open.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kwame
Good Advice
“I heard you saw Paloma.” Titus sits in the seat across from my desk, eyeing me.
I’m beginning to regret inviting him to drop by my office this evening. “Yeah. I saw her. What about it?”
He raises one eyebrow and smirks. “No need to be defensive. I just thought you guys were done.”
“We are. What makes you think otherwise?”
“That you guys hooked up.”
My stomach tightens. “God, she talks too much.”
“She thought I would know.” He gives me a hard, accusing stare.
“There was nothing to tell, Titus. What didyoutell her?”
“Ouch.” He hisses and presses a hand to his chest. “I’ll forgive that because you’re clearly in a bad mood and not thinking straight. We’re friends, but K, you’re my brother. That information highway is a one-way street. You know that.”
I sigh and shake off some of the tension in my shoulders. It’s been a long week. “I know. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what she said to who. I ended things for good.”
