Chapter Twenty-Three
Kwame
The Good Witch, The Bad Wizard, and the Part-Time Bitch
Sin disappears around the corner, and my gut hollows.
My mother always said my pride was my biggest obstacle to having what I truly want. Maybe she was right, but for a long time, it’s been my compass and a boundary setter.
I stopped chasing people a long time ago and I’ll be damned if I’m going to start now.
Especially when it would mean being late to see the only person who has never let me down and always gives it to me straight.
Alice calling and inviting me to have lunch was a lifeline I didn’t realize I needed until I reached out to grab it.
When my mother died, and my father remained as distant as always, she was the person who held me when I thought I’d never stop crying. She’s the only person who has no agenda when it comes to me. I don’t know why I didn’t come see her sooner.
Smile on my face, I knock on the door and get ready for one of her legendary hugs.
When she sees me though, she frowns and then blinks as if she’s surprised I’m standing there.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes. Was just distracted.” Her warm brown eyes, untouched by time and strikingly wide set, take on their characteristic twinkle. “Kwame, darling. Come here.” She beams a delighted smile and throws her arms around me for a hug.
“Hello, you.” I pull her close and inhale the calm clean green-tea scent that is her signature. I press a kiss to each of her soft cheeks and step inside her large entryway. “Did you forget you invited me to lunch?” I slip out of my coat and hang it on a carved mahogany hook beside her door.
She reaches out to grab my hand, her warm eyes full of apology. “Of course not, silly. Food is ready.”
I link our fingers and let her lead me through her spacious, sun-drenched sitting room, up a short set of stairs that lead to her massive kitchen and to a table next to a row of windows that makes the most of the building’s position next to the gorgeous Kalorama Park.
“What a view. I understand why you wanted to live here, now.”
I sit and when she doesn’t join me, I look up at her and my smile falters. She’s watching me with a frown that forces deep furrows between her brows.
My smile falters. “What’s wrong?”
“You tell me.” She turns a pointed glance downward and clears her throat.
I follow her gaze to our still linked hands. “I’m consistent,” I say with a self-deprecating smile.
“Yes, you are,” she says and sits in the chair next to me. “So, tell me.”
“I met a woman. I care about her deeply.”
Her eyes light up and she lets go of my hands to clap hers together. “Oh my God. What could be wrong about that?”
“Her family hates Al Palmer. Something about an investment gone bad. But they blame him for ruining their lives. I’m not sure how I’ll overcome that once they know I’m his son.”
She reaches for my hand again. “Oh, Kwame. I know your father is very polarizing, but surely they won’t hold it against you.”
I sit back, irked by her excitement in the face of my tale of woe. “I don’t know.” I rub my temple.
“I’m sorry things aren’t going as you hoped. Kwame. But there’s a silver lining. You met someone. I was worried you were going to end up with Paloma.”
I laugh in surprise. “I thought you liked her.”
“I do. But she’s not right for you. I want what’s best for you.”
“I’m not sure Sin is best for me.”
“I’ve found sinning to be very therapeutic, actually,” she says with a nostalgic smile and faraway look on her face.
“I didn’t say sinning. I said Sin. That’s her name. It’s short for Arsinoé.”
“Oh. I see.” She taps her chin and purses her lips. “So you’re afraid those obstacles are insurmountable?”
“Yes.”
“Fear is just an emotion. You won’t know if they are truly insurmountable until you try to surmount them.” She grins, and I snort a laugh.
“Is she educated?”
“Very. Smart, too.”
“Pretty?”
“That’s an understatement.” I grin.
“Previously married?” Her gaze sharpens.
I shake my head.
“Children?”
I shake my head again.
“Where is her family from?”
“Ghana.”
She raises an eyebrow a pleased smile tugs her mouth. “That’s a first. What does she do?”
“She’s a journalist.”
As expected, she winces. “Oh God, Kwame. Of all things?”
I laugh at her dramatic words. “She’s the good kind.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “We will see when he comes for the party and you can introduce them.”
“We’ll see.” If she’s still talking to me.
“I actually spoke to your father too. Ugh. This thing.” She hisses and glares at her smartwatch.
“Excuse me. I have to take it off. It’s so distracting.” She hurriedly unfastens the watch strap and lays it on the table.
I’m instantly on alert.
I know Alice’s tells the way she knows mine. She gets physically uncomfortable when she has to relay news from my father to me.
Resigned, I cut to the chase. “What did he say, Alice?”
The beat of silence that follows makes me wish I hadn’t asked. “Just tell me.”
“He wants you to consider running for office. He’s going to talk to you about it when he gets here. I just…want to give you a heads-up.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Okay, he can expect whatever he wants, but this isn’t the Middle Ages. My mother asked us to try to get to know each other. And all he’s done is send me on errands and skip town.”
“I know. You don’t have to do anything that isn’t what you want. I just wanted to tell you what he said so you’d be prepared. I’m Switzerland when it comes to you and your father. I love you both. I’m just the messenger.”
I soften my expression and nod. “I know. Thank you.”
“What about running for office? Will you consider it?”
“Absolutely not.” I’m unequivocally opposed to the idea. “I’m applying for a job. Back with the government.”
She purses her lips and nods. “I knew this was coming.”
“That’s not all.”
She hums and raises her eyebrows as if surprised. “What else?”
“I want to sell the house. Or rent it out. But I don’t want to live there anymore.”
Her brow furrows. “Kwame, your mother wanted you to make it yours.”
“It’s so big. It’s got no personality.”
“Have you decorated?”
The empty rooms flash in my head. “No.”
She shakes her head. “Your parents were hoping you could make it your home. Raise your family there.”
“Isn’t that something I should have a say in?”
“Of course.” Understanding softens her expression. “If you don’t want to live there now, I understand, but selling it or renting it out to someone else would feel wrong. He’s done so much so you can have everything he didn’t.”
“Except be a present father,” I mutter.
She slaps my shoulder. “You’re an adult now. You don’t need him for that anymore. Just…get to know him. Try to understand him. Why he is the way he is.”
“I walked away from a career I love and moved here to be close to him. I took this asinine job, I moved into that house, and he took the first chance he had to skip town.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes to try and ward off the headache blooming behind them.
“Oh, Kwame. You know he would have stayed if he’d been able to.” Alice puts a hand on my shoulder.
There isn’t a power on Earth that could have made him leave DC if he’d wanted to stay.
I swallow down a flare of irritation. As much as she loves me, Alice is fiercely loyal to my father. When it comes to his character, she may see and hear the evil, but she will never speak of it.
“I know you’re angry at your dad for leaving.”
“I was. I’m not anymore.”
“Then why do you want to move?”
“This has nothing to do with him. I have ambitions beyond his approval you know.”
“Kwame,” she sighs my name before her lips settle into a deep, contemplative frown.
She opens her mouth to speak when the chime of her front door opening interrupts us.
“That must be Oz.” She jumps up from the table and sweeps a critical eye around the room and brushes nonexistent crumbs from the spotless table. “Something was wrong at his apartment so he walked over to use mine. One of the perks of having him next door.”
“Oh, I see.” I can’t hide my lack of enthusiasm. If I’d known there was even a chance I’d see Oz today, I wouldn’t have come.
“Ma?”
“Up here,” she calls out. Her anxious energy is contagious and I find myself itching to leave.
His heavy footfalls hit the stairs and as if on cue, a cloud moves to cover the sunlight that filled the kitchen seconds ago.
“Is there anything to eat, I’m—” he stops speaking when he steps into the kitchen and sees me. “Oh. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Alice stands, straight and at attention by the sink and beams a forced smile at him as he strolls into the kitchen.
“You said something about a fire alarm when you came in. Is everything okay?” she asks and walks over to greet him.
“It was a false alarm. Waste of time. I’ll eat and go back to my place.” His lip curls in a sneer when he passes me to meet her halfway. He presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek.
Loving Alice is the only thing we still agree on these days. I watch as he gathers his things and studiously ignores me.
For the first twenty years of my life, he was the coolest person on the planet.
Then I caught him padding his expense account and took it to my father.
He’s always resented me for it. He’s never considered how much it hurt to learn that my idol was a thief who couldn’t handle accountability. I told him as much. He exploded.
He told me how much he’d always hated me and told me I’d be nothing if I wasn’t Al Palmer’s son.
I reminded him that no matter how hard he’d tried that was the one thing he never be. He’d swung; I swung back and broke his nose.
It was the last time we voluntarily shared the same space for longer than a few minutes. Until my mother’s funeral, I hadn’t seen him in person for at least a decade. We occupy a very different world, and I’d like to keep it that way.
He’s still the tallest person in every room. He always dresses to blend in. Today he looks like every other staffer on Capitol Hill—dark suit, blue tie, starched collar, gold signet ring on his pinkie and a Rolex on his left wrist.
Six foot five, slim as a reed, with the same deep brown skin as his mother, a gleaming bald head and broad shoulders that force crowds to part, he could never blend in.
I glance at my wrist and grimace at the time. “I have a call this afternoon. I should head back and get ready.”
She turns to face me, her eyes creased in concern. “Oh stay, please. We weren’t done talking.”
I glance over to Oz and give my head a short shake. She knows there’s no way I’m confiding in her with him here. That conversation is over. “Another time.”
“You’re coming to the beach still, right? I’m going up today to air out the rooms.”
“Yup.” I groan internally. This weekend at Highland Beach is another tradition I haven’t missed. I only agreed to go this year because I thought my father would be there. Of course, he’s since fled the country and won’t be back until his bacchanal in April.
“It’ll just be us and the Persauds and The Glovers in the Cove. I think Wilde House is also going to be occupied for the weekend, if the butcher’s gossip is correct. Not sure by who, though. Maybe Tyson will be there. You two always got along.”
I dart a glance at Oz and then back at Alice. “Nice. Anyone else?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be there,” Oz answers my silent question with a sardonic smile.
I ignore him. “Titus gets in tonight. We’ll drive down together,” I tell Alice and ignore him.
“See you Saturday.” I give her a hug. She wraps an arm around my waist and hugs me back.
“Good luck with your lady,” she whispers.
Sin would love her.
An image of Sin, her head thrown back in a laugh, her golden-brown throat smooth and elegant and bared so casually, as if it’s not the most beautiful neck ever created. Eleven freckles dot the side of her neck in a curved line that I’ve traced in my mind a hundred times.
The way things are going, it might be as close as I ever get.
The thought makes my whole body heavy. I give myself a second to enjoy the familiar, comforting warmth of Alice’s hug and then I let go.
I don’t say anything to Oz as I leave. I’m on the second step down when he calls my name.
“Yeah?” I say, looking over my shoulder.
“Your father expects you to be at Palm Sunday,” Oz says from behind his newspaper.
I purse my lips in irritation. “I haven’t been to a Palm Sunday in ten years.”
“I’m bringing it up now so you have time to wrap your mind around it. It would make him very happy.”
My repressed irritation strains against its leash. “You work for him. That doesn’t mean you know what makes him happy.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he drawls and looks over the top of his paper with an amused glint in his eyes.
“I don’t need convincing and I don’t care what you think.” I add a chuckle to soften the bite in my voice but it’s hollow, and there’s a beat of silence before he responds.
“Your father cares what I think,” he says it softly, but it doesn’t dull the edge in his voice.
“He values the opinions of all his employees.”
“Last time I checked, my mother and I were just as much his family as you are.”
I scoff. “Sure. You’re his nephew. I am his only son.” I turn to Alice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.” She smiles at me, but it’s tinged with regret.
“I’m sorry,” she mouths silently. I shake my head. She has nothing to be sorry for.
“I’d better be off, or I’ll be late.” I flash them both a warm smile but narrow my eyes a fraction when they land on Oz and find him smiling at me like the cat who got the cream.