Chapter Fifty-Seven
Kwame
Full Picture
Growing up in Washington, DC, I hear people described as game changers all the time. Hell, I’ve been called one myself. But I didn’t truly understand what the phrase meant until the day she walked into my life, pulled me in, shook me up, and rearranged my world view irrevocably.
And tonight, she’s stunning.
Sin likes to be the observer and almost exclusively wears all black to blend in. Tonight she is dressed like she wants to make sure she’ll never be forgotten.
Her traditional two-piece shirt and top is made of the purple Kente cloth specially woven for this year’s Palm Sunday.
The skirt is the traditional floor-length mermaid silhouette. The top is a strapless white bodice that clings to her torso and has a dramatic lift on one side that looks like a wave breaking on a shore.
Her neck is bare but for a gold necklace string of Adinkra symbols that collar her throat like a string of golden runes. Her hair is in a sleek bun that shows off her elegant bone structure.
Every head turns as she passes them on her way to me.
She puts her hand into mine and expels a breath as if she’s relieved when our fingers link.
“You're late,” she grumbles, and I want to lean forward and pull that pouty lip between my teeth and then lick it.
“How long have you been waiting for me?”
“My whole life it feels like,” she purrs and steps into my side.
I slip my arm around her waist, savoring the way it seems to curve perfectly into her side, and how she moves into me without any hesitation at all.
“Are you okay? Being here, I mean?” She searches my face and the worry in her eyes kill me. I thought I was hiding my discomfort with being here better.
“I’m fine. I had a great afternoon, and we’re leaving tomorrow.”
I stroke my thumb down her cheek and her eyes flutter closed, her face leans toward my hand like a flower reaching up to the sun to get more of it.
I want to give her all of it. But what is going to cost me?
Being in cahoots with my father again.
I worked so hard to get away from this life.
How did I end up back here?
You chose this.
“You look good as fuck by the way.” She kisses my bare arm.
“You wear your Kente well. I hate that everyone’s getting a look at my man’s back though. I hope I don’t have to cuss anybody out tonight.”
I laugh at her baring her teeth and adjust the cloth draped over my shoulder. “They’re going to be too busy making deals and trying to get pictures with each other to notice me.”
“Let’s find a quiet corner and watch,” she says.
l lean down to kiss her temple. “You’ve got sense.”
She laughs, links fingers with me and smiles. “And I’ve got you.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
“More,” she mouths and my anxiety about tonight goes away. We’re the same Sin and Kwame and our life outside of these gates won’t be changed by the occasional visit to The Palms or spending time with my father. I just hope I can keep Oz away from her. I don’t even want them to meet.
“Come, let’s go have a good time.”
Fingers linked, we walk into the grand ballroom and Sin stops short. “Holy shit,” she says and I can’t pretend I’m not impressed.
My father has put Ghana on display tonight.
Golden stools, Kente cloth linens, Adinkra symbols adorn everything. The bird of paradise and other tropical flowers that explode from the floral arrangements are the only real color in the room and call to mind sultry Accra nights that my mother loved so much.
For all the nods to home, it’s also a nod to the American Gilded Age that has always been such a source of fascination for him.
The air is thick with an intoxicating blend of music, laughter, and conversation. The energy is vibrant, almost carnival-like and the room pulses with it.
Sin squeals and shouts in my ear every time she spots someone famous. It’s different seeing it through her eyes. I found these parties to be such a drag when I was a young man, but I can see why everyone looked forward to it.
Glistening chandeliers hang from the ornate ceiling, casting a warm, golden light over the scene. The walls are draped in rich fabrics—plush velvets and shimmering silks—interspersed with the Adinkra motifs that are a fusion of the event’s theme. My mother wouldn’t have liked this one bit.
At least that’s what I tell myself, but she was right beside him for these parties, year after year.
“Let’s get a drink.” I lead Sin to one of six lavish bars set up all over the room.
We make our way over and despite my wariness about being here, the excitement in the room is infectious.
The dance floor is packed, where couples twirl effortlessly and nearby, a card table is bustling as guests lean in to test their luck.
The gold gilt feathers, streamers, and confetti add a sense of whimsy to the atmosphere. Sin is grinning from ear to ear when I look down at her.
Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.