Chapter 5
SOLOMON’S YOUNGER SISTER, Nneka, stepped through the entryway of his parents’ Huntsville home as he opened the door wide.
“Can’t you show up late to Sunday dinner one time in your life?” She rolled her eyes.
He grinned in return. “Not if I can help it. And why would I, since you usually show up late enough for all of us. I’m a little shocked that I’m seeing you right now.”
She pushed past him into the foyer with a huff. Annoying his sister was always fun. He left the door ajar as another familiar car pulled into the driveway.
In place of a hug in greeting, Nneka threw her jacket his way.
He caught it and, instead of hanging it up like she preferred, tossed it on the chair next to the foyer table.
“Wait, no prolonged welcome for the older sibling you haven’t seen in a couple months?” He followed her, opening his arms wide.
“Pfft.” Nneka fluttered her fingers behind her shoulder. “I’m too hungry. I could smell the jollof rice from the driveway.”
“Maybe if you’d gotten here early like me, you’d have already sampled some.”
Nneka swiveled her neck, tossing the voluminous waves of her latest hairstyle, and narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t dare. Nothing starts on time with this family. Only on the business side.”
“Either way, plenty of time to sample.”
“Hmm, and time to suck up.” Before he could turn around, his younger brother wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
Dissed by his sister and almost suffocated by his brother. Par for the course as the oldest sibling of the Anruchi clan.
Solomon smirked at Simon. “If sucking up is doing my best to keep peace in the house and do what our parents have asked us to do, I’m guilty. Y’all try to start battles that are not worth fighting.”
Simon scoffed. “If you are such a rule follower, why am I the one actually working with our parents?”
“Only if you count using our parents’ money to pursue your own side hustles.”
His brother shrugged, always unbothered. “It’s called research, something you should be familiar with in your own little side hustle.”
The muscles in Solomon’s neck tightened. Why didn’t anyone take his career seriously? Maybe because in their mind it was only temporary. No one in this family could stay out of the business’s orbit for too long.
Simon sighed, already sounding tired of their conversation. “I’m just trying to keep my life interesting and myself together. I’ve got enough pressure as it is.”
Solomon released his brother and at least took time to hang his jacket on the stand in the corner.
“Let me know when you’re done doing whatever you’re doing so I can stop shouldering this business and actually live again.” Simon snickered, but his words held a bite that pricked Solomon’s heart with guilt.
“Does anyone know the real reason why they called this dinner?” Simon followed up with a mumble.
Nneka shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m usually the nosy one, but not this time.”
“Your man taking up too much of your mental space for that, huh?” Simon said. Nneka reared back, sending a message to her younger brother’s arm. “Ow!”
She opened her mouth to say something more but shut it again.
Simon rubbed his arm. “What about you, big bro? Any updates on your end that require the whole family to know?”
Nothing that he was ready to share. “If it wasn’t in the group text, then I don’t know. Between studying and my residency hours, I don’t have time for more than that. I’m just glad I made it to Sunday night dinner.” He gave his sister the side-eye. “On time.”
One by one they stepped into the family room. Their father sat there looking like a Nigerian king holding court from his favorite leather recliner. Which was saying a lot since he had three of the same in three different houses.
“Dad-deeee,” Nneka squealed, eating up the distance to give her father a hug. He rose to meet her, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“How is my baby girl?”
“Good.” She stepped back, grinning.
“And Simon, what have you been up to these days? Are you finally doing something with your life?”
Simon stepped up to give their father a bear hug. “Nothing too much, Pops. Just living your dream.”
His father laughed and smacked him on the back. “Ehen! Yes, we are doing that!”
Imagine being able to risk and do what is in your heart without caring about who you disappoint?
Solomon squashed that thought as quickly as it rose.
It sounded treasonous, even to his own ears.
His path had been set for as long as he could remember.
Veering off for these past few years had cost him. He had to finish strong.
Solomon didn’t bother with his own greeting since he’d received a simple, “Son,” when he first arrived.
“We must have missed something,” Simon said through gritted teeth when his father stepped away. “Why is he dressed up tonight? It’s not like we are out or hosting anyone else, right?”
Solomon hadn’t a clue but wished he did since it was usually his job to pay attention.
“Happy anniversary to us!” His mom’s voice and perfume poured into the room before her. She sashayed in, wearing a lacy top and a custom Ankara-print wrap skirt.
“Happy anniversary!” Nneka cheered, looking back at her brothers like, Did y’all know?
Solomon didn’t even realize his parents cared. The few times he’d asked in the past, they said they got married in Nigeria and weren’t worried about those American customs.
But here they all were, obviously at a dinner in honor of it. Waving off their hugs, his mother ushered them toward the dining room. “The anniversary is months away. Come, come, before the food gets cold.”
Simon slapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation.
Nneka looped an arm through her mother’s as they walked toward the catered spread.
Solomon followed with his father, swallowing down the feeling that they were being fattened up before some kind of slaughter.
SOLOMON WIPED his mouth, not able to eat another bite of meat pie. “Congrats again, Pops, Mom. Early.”
“Ehen. Now you can all start thinking about what our gift will be.” His mother nodded.
Nneka’s eyes widened. “A gift?” At the same time, Simon coughed.
What gift would appease parents who could purchase whatever they wanted?
Their father nodded his head in affirmation. “And why not? We have been married thirty-five years.” He crossed his arms. “You can give a new house. A car. Maybe a trip to Hawaii.”
The siblings chuckled. They had a house in Hawaii, why would they need a trip there? Solomon’s mother turned a serious eye on him, drying up the laughter in his throat. He wasn’t the son of a prophet, but he sure had an idea what was coming.
“I will tell you what will make my mother’s heart happy. The thing that will make me shout for joy . . .”
“Here we go,” Simon mumbled, slumping in his chair.
She can still see you, fool. Solomon rolled his eyes.
“. . . is for God to bless the Anruchi family with grandchildren.”
Nneka straightened and cleared her throat.
“Specifically, ones to carry on our family name.”
Nneka lifted an eyebrow, her eyes flashing with mild accusation.
What? Solomon mouthed. As if it’d been his choice to be the first male child.
“Oh, Lord Jesus. Provide the right spouses for my children.” His mother closed her eyes, her right hand splayed over her heart.
“Keep away every foolish person”—Nneka elbowed Simon as he coughed out the name of her boyfriend—“and bring the right ones that will help bless the Anruchi home with our lasting legacy.”
Sure was funny how she could turn a moment that was about her and Pops into something even more about them.
“And forgive them for letting the right ones get away.”
“Oh, she went there.” Nneka put a fist to her mouth.
Solomon swallowed, loosening his tie. Would they never forgive him for letting go of their perfect match? Their eyes had been on expansion, not on whether his heart had connected with the daughter of a potential business partner.
“How about dessert?”
Thank you for the save, Simon.
“Yes, speaking of that, how will you celebrate your anniversary?” Solomon said.
“With your firstborn in my lap.”
“Mommy, be serious. There are a lot of steps that need to happen before that.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” She harrumphed. “You know what we have discussed. I am still waiting to hear about who you will one day bring into our family, and I am ready to see you finish your studies. It has been almost three years, enough of this hesitation—”
“What about a renewal party?” Solomon interrupted.
“You guys always talked about not getting to have the wedding you wanted since you came to the States so young.” He mentally patted himself on the back.
Maybe that would be enough to distract them from the choices he didn’t intend to make.
“And we can organize it around when Auntie Thea will be in town. She’ll be here on business in a couple months, right? ”
“Yes, that is right.” His mother looked pleased at the mention of her best friend from college.
Nneka nodded, knowing exactly where this was going. “We will all work together to plan an amazing party. But isn’t Solomon’s test happening around the same time?”
His mother clapped her hands in surprise. “A test? What test?”
Nneka’s gaze was challenging, daring him to deny the information that he had foolishly thought was safe with her.
“It’s the NPTE. The National Physical Therapy Exam,” Solomon explained.
“Another exam?” His father sat up. “Is this a joke?”
“No.” Solomon stared at his empty plate. “It’s not.” He swallowed. “That is what I have to take to be able to practice, not to mention other certifications if I choose to specialize. You know this, Pops.”
His father grunted. “All that for a masseur.”
Simon covered his mouth. Solomon would punch his brother in that mouth if he laughed again. He turned an exasperated look on Nneka, who to her credit looked slightly regretful. None of them wished disappointing their parents on each other, much less inviting it to the dinner table.
“Father, what I do is not massage. It is a respected profession that makes me a doctor of physical therapy.”
His mother leaned over the remnants of her rice. “You have already finished school. You are licensed and working. Why would you need to do anything more when you will not be here for long?”
“I have a temporary license, which will become permanent once I pass. And who knows? Maybe I’ll be here longer than originally planned.”
“What?” Simon and his father barked together.
“We are months away from finalizing our East Coast acquisition. You are meant to be in New York just a few weeks after your cousin’s wedding,” his father said.
Simon narrowed his eyes. “What is the point of doing all this work here if you’ll be practicing and helping me in New York?” His brother kept his bravado intact, but Solomon saw the betrayal in his eyes.
Solomon wanted to be bold and tell them how much he didn’t want to join the family business, selling couture clothing to the über rich and famous.
He wanted to say how this town was more than where his mother went to college or where his residency placement was.
He enjoyed being here and didn’t look forward to returning to the more hectic pace of the East Coast. But just like when he was a quivering kid being sent off to boarding school over fifteen years ago, his insides turned to Jell-O, like a patient with hypotonia—no tone, just plain weakness.
Like the way Kenya had tripped over her own two feet and fallen, his mind tripped over words to appease his parents. Like Kenya had fallen. Kenya . . .
“If I leave so soon, I don’t think my, uh, girlfriend will be happy about it.”
“Ah-ah! Girlfriend?” It was the women’s turn to squeal.
“I need details,” Nneka cried.
“And you will get none.” Solomon, what are you thinking? Instead of escaping their grasp, you are playing right into their hands! He blamed Nurse Audrey for putting that thought into his head.
His father pressed his lips together, not completely satisfied with that answer. But he would not get in the way of his wife’s excitement.
“What does she do?” she pressed.
That was the most important detail behind him having a girlfriend.
“She works with businesses, some management, I think.” He grasped at straws, but if he could throw them off his scent for a little while longer and pass his test, that would at least give him more leverage in winning his life back.
“Yes, yes! This is perfect! Why didn’t you say all this earlier?
” His mother joyfully shimmied around the table to wrap her arms around his neck.
“This is good, good news. We will do a renewal party not only in honor of our thirty-five years of marriage—thank you, Jesus.” She glanced upward before setting her eyes on Solomon.
“But we also look forward to meeting this wonderful woman soon.”
Solomon choked, grasping his glass of water. He took a few gulps and gaped at his sister. She lifted an eyebrow in challenge.
Solomon shoved a spoonful of cold jollof into his mouth. If studying for the NPTE wasn’t enough, now he had to make good on the words he’d just let out of his mouth.