Chapter 2 Ofosua
CHAPTER 2 OFOSUA
ADINKRA SAYING: ( Dwennimmen ) It represents strength (in mind, body, and soul), humility, wisdom, and learning.
HELEN ADDO: Love makes us all fools. We must learn never to be fools again.
By the time we arrived in Brooklyn at the Weylin for the reception after the trad wedding, my cheeks hurt from smiling. I had never smiled so much in my life, and my mind was spinning. The valets were bringing in all the gifts, weaving between the tuxedoed waitstaff. “Relax, relax.” My mother kept trying to make me enjoy this beautiful venue. And it was beautiful. The domes and architecture were breathtaking; the coffered ceiling, limestone walls, and mosaic marble floors so elegant.
So many names and faces. Yofi and I thought we’d be able to cull some of the folks from the ceremony to the reception, since we’d scheduled the reception for seven in the evening and moved venues from Central Park to Brooklyn, but no. There were people everywhere .
A little sliver of panic tried to wind around my lungs. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of the din of chatter, the brassy tone of the trumpet as the band warmed up, and my beautiful gold-and-white reception kaba and slit trying to choke the life out of me. Two hours ago I’d felt confident and happy, and now… now my new corset was squeezing the life out of me. And every time I took a step, the slit left a tiny little slice on my thigh.
Truly death by a thousand cuts.
Take a deep breath. You’ve finally managed to make your mother proud. Enjoy it.
Guests poured in, excited to come and eat, or “chop,” as we said at home. In no time, they’d be full on a fusion twist of old favorites like kelewele, jollof, and kenkey, prepped by the famed Ghanaian chef Adowa Blankson. And of course they’d drink as much free top-shelf liquor as they could. It was why they were there, after all. The spectacle of the ceremony was just icing.
I was elated.
Is “elated” the right word?
Yofi was too. While he’d not exactly been demonstrative , he was gripping my hand tightly.
We had a room full of gifts. Our town house in Park Slope was spacious, but not whole-bone-china-department-of-Bloomingdale’s-with-settings-for-fifty kind of room. As it stood, we’d already received some wedding gifts at the town house that included Royal Doulton and Spode. What were we going to do with all that china? Obviously, people had ignored our registry. Some of the presents would have to go into storage or to my parents’ houses. They owned two apartments in Greenwich Village.
My mother would gladly store anything we wanted. It would earn her bragging points, like My daughter was given so many blessings for her wedding she couldn’t even store them all .
I’d crossed the finish line. Her job was done. I’d never seen her glow quite so brightly. When she danced over with a grin, I had to smile back. “Oh, my beautiful daughter, married at last. I have to tell you, I was so worried you wouldn’t make it this far.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mum.”
“I just know how you are sometimes. But, Ofosua, know that I’m always proud of you, no matter what.”
“Thanks, Mum. Now you can finally let me breathe for a minute, at least.”
She laughed. “No, no. I want my grandchildren.”
I sighed, because even though I’d hoped that we’d be left alone to get used to being married, I knew how it went. Even tonight, people had already commented, “Ah, you shouldn’t wait too long before having children.” And psychologically, I understood. Our family and guests wanted to perpetuate the culture in the US.
They wanted to plant the seeds, because in essence, the trad wedding wasn’t about Yofi and me getting married, but rather about our families uniting. The merging of bloodlines, bringing us together, making sure we could not be separated. Because even, God forbid, in the event of divorce, I would still be their daughter-in-law in the eyes of our culture, whether I liked it or not. It was a lot of pressure.
I needed Yofi to reassure me, but he had vanished. “Mum, have you seen Yofi?”
“Oh, you know how men are. He’s probably with his friends. You’ll have to get used to not being the center of his world. A good way to keep busy is to finish your master’s in finance. I wouldn’t oppose you going to law school either.”
Of course. “Mum, it’s my wedding day. We’re not doing this.”
She pursed her lips and sighed. I learned early on that it was best to cut it off when she was about to embark on a lower-your-self-esteem tangent. It was safer that way. “Mum, excuse me. I’m going to go find him, okay?”
“Okay, but don’t take too long. I have more people to reintroduce you to.”
I laughed. “I’ll be back soon.”
I found his group of friends on the dance floor. One of them dragged me out there, trying to show me his moves. “Oh, Kpakpo. Don’t you know I can shake ’em better than you?” I asked.
For a few minutes I let the bass and the drums take over as hiplife music played. When the song changed to “City Boys” by Burna Boy, I begged off to continue the hunt. And I laughed as the younger guests flooded the dance floor.
I found my father at the bar wearing his cream caftan, which resembled a long tunic with intricate embroidery near the V-neck collar. He was nursing a scotch, judging by the tone of the liquid. “Having fun, Dad?”
He gave me a misty smile that lifted his cheeks and had his ebony-dark eyes vanishing in the creases of his face. He lifted his glass to toast me with his deep baritone, “My little girl is married. I’m stuck somewhere being so proud and happy for you and sad that you’re not mine anymore.”
I wrapped my arms around his tall, slim frame in a tight hug, and I felt like my heart was going to burst. “I’m always yours, Dad.”
When he pulled back, he scrubbed a hand over his close-shaved white beard and gave me a somber smile, all the while blinking the tears from his eyes. “You’re happy, though?”
“Of course. I just wish I could find my groom. He’s completely disappeared. Have you seen him?”
There was a tight narrowing of my father’s eyes for an imperceptible moment, but his gaze quickly warmed again. “Where could he be but by your side?”
“That is a good question. I’ll try the balcony. Enjoy your drink. I won’t tell Mum you were sneaking one.”
He harrumphed and deliberately took a sip. “One article she reads about how detrimental drinking can be to your health as you get older, and I have to go dry? What nonsense is that? I’m the head of the house. I can have a drink if I want to.”
“In semisecret?”
The chuckle he gave me warmed me from the inside and reminded me of my childhood, when he would sneak me chocolates. “It is your mother. She can be quite formidable.”
With a kiss to my father’s cheek, I continued my search. Our party occupied both domes of the Weylin, and the white-wedding crowd in a month’s time would be even bigger. My brain kept doing mental calculations of exactly how much the trad ceremony and reception would cost my parents. We were well into six figures already, between the outfits, venues, food, and alcohol. Then all the gifts brought to presentation, especially the gold. But I tried not to think about it because I knew that this traditional ceremony made my parents happier than anything else I’d done lately, so it was better to just let them have their moment.
On Monday we’d go to the courthouse, and then we’d be officially married in the eyes of New York State. And after that, I had had a lot more input in the big white church wedding in front of even more family and friends.
Hopefully.
I turned down one of the halls where the restrooms were. It was eerily quiet, with only the faint beat of the music in the background. In the skylights above, the moon hung low and bright, giving us additional light for our party. For the first time in the last twelve hours, I was actually breathing instead of doing that shallow-breath thing. I felt good, despite having been on my feet in these Louboutins for over four hours since I’d changed into my reception outfit. I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. Today was the first day of the rest of my life with Yofi.
When we got home I was going to crash and probably sleep for three days, but it was worth it.
I was a wife .
And then I heard something.
Muttering and then muffled moaning. The sounds were coming from behind one of the closed doors just beyond the women’s restroom. But I didn’t think there were any guest rooms down here. An office? I knew it was a good general rule to stay out of people’s business, but something made me take a step closer to that door. And then someone said, “Oh God, right there. Right fucking there. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
I staggered back. I knew that voice, but this wasn’t right. There was no fucking way. Even though some primal part of me sensed the danger, I stepped closer.
My brain refused to believe.
I heard another moan and, “Fuck. You’re so good at that. I needed that so bad.”
The bottom fell out of my stomach. A shiver racked my spine as I stood rooted into position. Unable to move.
Yofi was behind that door. And someone was getting him off. At our reception.
From that moment on, everything seemed to happen underwater. Time slowed and sound became warped. Through what felt like a tunnel, I heard, “I have to get back. It’s been too long.”
How long had I been standing there? A minute? Five? When my brain came back online, the same Burna Boy song was playing, so it couldn’t have been more than two minutes.
The door opened, and I stood there in the dim light, staring at my husband. Was that a mop and a bucket just behind him?
He immediately stepped out and slammed the door behind him.
His normally open smile was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a myriad of emotions played on his face. The wide eyes and lifted brows of surprise, the furrowed forehead of confusion, and finally, his face set in a grim mask, his full lips pressed together. He reached for me. “Ofosua, it’s not what it seems.”
One breath. Two. My heart squeezed hard as my lungs fought for air, fought for oxygen, fought for life. “You, y-you, you were ch-cheating on me just now.”
He didn’t even have the good sense to lie as he quickly led me down the hall, away from the cleaning closet he’d just been in. Classy. “Ofosua, I didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just—”
I shook my head. This was not happening. Here. At my wedding . “No. No. No. Please, God, no.” My voice rose higher and higher.
His all-too-familiar impatience sparked. “Don’t get hysterical. Just calm down.”
Calm. Down.
I stared at him, my disbelief, and pain, unspooling into horror and humiliation. “You do this to me, on the day of our traditional marriage, and you’re telling me not to get hysterical ?” Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, my control lost its slippery hold on the temper I never let out. “You cheating asshole, pathetic little-dicked—”
“Quiet, Ofosua,” he barked.
“Who is she? Who. Is. She?”
Yofi didn’t answer. My heart splintered. This is what heartbreak is.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother hurrying toward us with Yofi’s mother, Auntie Judy, and his brother Martey trailing behind her. But I wasn’t really paying any mind to them. Yofi had all of my furious attention.
I’d taken enough self-defense classes to know how to land a hit, yet violence wasn’t part of my nature. But something overtook me in that hallway. I drew my arm back, but just before it connected, Martey grabbed me around the waist.
“Yofi, Ofosua, what is happening?”
At my mother’s appearance—even Yofi wasn’t so far gone that he would disrespect her—he stood up straight and smoothed the front of his caftan. Only his glassy eyes and slight sway gave away that he’d been drinking. Though that was the least of our problems. “Auntie, please. We are having a misunderstanding. That’s all.”
No. He was not going to pin this on me. “I didn’t misunderstand , Yofi. I caught you cheating on me.”
My mother gasped. “Whaaat?”
“Yes, Mum. Your perfect son-in-law. I caught him in a closet having sex with someone else. Just now.”
My mother blinked in confusion, looking around for the offending closet. “What closet? Who?”
“Hell if I know. Care to enlighten us, Yofi?”
Yofi stared out at the party. He didn’t deny anything I said. Which meant none of this was a bad dream. It was real. And that’s when the thumping in my ears started to get louder and louder, like a herd of elephants thundering toward me. My palms started to sweat, and the edges of my vision started to gray.
Oh God. No, God. No, not in here. Not right now.
I sucked in a breath and released it slowly. Bring it down. Bring it down. Bring it down to a manageable seven. Hell, an eight. I would take an eight right now.
Instead, the panic kept rising.
As my mother marched away, presumably in search of my father, Judy ran after her. “Helen, wait, wait. I’m so sorry.”
I stared up at the man who’d sworn he loved me. The man who had told me countless times on lazy Sundays in bed that he loved me a thousand different ways. When they say you never really know someone, this is what they mean. There was something in his eyes that almost looked like an apology, but then his gaze hardened abruptly. “It is what it is. You pushed for this marriage and spectacle. I didn’t want to get married. But you pushed. Now, if you can learn to be a proper wife, then maybe we can work.”
Martey couldn’t stop me any longer, and I released a front jab to Yofi’s nose. Blood was suddenly everywhere. Bonus, it was accompanied by a satisfying crunching sound.
I turned on my heel and I stalked back through the party toward the exit. I had to get out of the Weylin. Away from all of this. My mother appeared at my side, yanking me back.
“Mum, what are you doing?”
My mother didn’t even meet my gaze as my father approached.
“Helen, what is happening? People are starting to make noise that something is wrong.” And then he saw the look on my face.
My mother, for once, stayed calm. “That man cheated on your daughter. Today of all days. During what was supposed to be a joining of the families. The disrespect.” And then she flung open the display chest Yofi’s family had brought and threw out all the jewels and the money. They scattered, jewels pinging on the marble floor as they rolled.
The thundering was getting closer. Closer and closer.
Yofi reappeared, holding a towel to his face, his white caftan, a bloody mess. Good.
Auntie Judy came forward. “This is a misunderstanding. Yofi and Martey, you will clean up all the jewels and the money and take the chest back. Ofosua, we’re going to talk about this because we are now family. You can’t undo—”
My mother stepped in front of her. “Judy, if you ever want us to speak again, you will get out of my daughter’s face. We are leaving.”
“Mum…” My voice was weak, and I could feel the dizziness coming for me. The clapping sound of my heart in my chest was too loud.
And then, in front of everybody, that ring of light that had turned gray, and then charcoal, went totally black.