Chapter 15 #2
Solomon’s mouth watered at the doughy balls and the thick soup he was about to dip them into. “The problem is, it has not been an enjoyment for them or us. Conversations turn into questioning. You act as if that first interaction is the next step before marriage or for joining our kingdom.”
His mother remained silent.
His father cleared his throat and rose. As he came closer, his mother set an empty bowl before him.
“You have to play chess, my boy.” His father washed his hands in the sink and sat down on the leather-padded stool.
“You cannot think of what we do simply as playing a game of checkers. There’s always strategy, and that’s why it is important for you to be with the right person.
” He was quiet as he watched his wife ladle the thick egusi soup into a ceramic tureen.
When she filled it halfway, she carried the serving dish to him.
He pulled the platter of fufu closer and turned to his son.
“It seems that you have met someone special because you appear different than when I saw you last. More purposeful. And that is exactly what we need over these next few months as we move forward with our expansion. I am confident you are ready to take that on with the same enthusiasm you are showing toward this woman of yours.”
“The woman I want to meet.” His mother pointed her ladle at him. “And I want to meet her before the weh-din’.” She enunciated the last part, her accent thick with meaning.
“Mommy, you’re the one who wanted to invite her to the wedding in the first place. Why don’t you wait to meet her until then. It will be more fun that way.” The argument sounded weak even to his ears. His parents didn’t care about fun.
She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “Every move is strategic. And since she will be sitting among our family, I would like to meet her to get to know her.”
“Please don’t scare her off, okay? She is really important to me.”
Even as he said the words, in a millisecond of assessment, he recognized that what he said wasn’t a stretch of the truth.
He and Kenya may be in a sort of fake-dating limbo, but the words out of his mouth were right from his core.
Kenya did mean a lot to him, and he didn’t need his mother scaring her off, no matter the outcome.
He recognized in that moment that breaking Kenya’s heart would somehow break his.
He looked at his mother, willed her not to look away.
“She matters not just for the company or the Anruchi family but because she’s a person of value.
I don’t want you appraising her for whatever chess game you and Father are trying to play. ”
His father shrugged, pinched off a portion of dough, and dipped it into the soup.
His mother sighed. “What will you have me to talk about? Flowers, the color of the sky, whatever else people here in the south of the States talk about?”
His father chuckled around his full mouth.
Solomon laughed and wrapped his arms around his stubborn mother.
“Talk about anything but the company. She doesn’t need to be bombarded with all that now.
You’re not meeting her for a job interview.
You’re just getting to know—very briefly—the girlfriend I am bringing to the wedding. ”
“Fine.” She sniffed. “I will not talk about business. I won’t even talk about you. Are you satisfied?”
“Very much.” He grinned, knowing that as much as he felt the pressure to please his parents, his mother especially wanted to do right by him, even in this supposedly simple-to-her matter.
But it was important for him to make sure, because if Kenya knew who he really was, maybe she wouldn’t be so prone to continue with this charade.
IF KENYA COULDN’T train like she wanted to for the race she’d registered for almost a year ago, at least she could pump her arms and trick her mind into believing she was making progress.
She had been a consistent runner, but this ankle of hers had the audacity to mess up her rhythm.
No matter, she was determined to make the 5K that she not only had the honor of helping to set into motion but also hoped to run in.
I miss running so much.
Kenya sat back against the wall of the exercise room in her apartment building.
Since most of the residents were at the office or working remotely, the room had been empty for a while.
She didn’t mind the peace as she attempted to exercise while her thoughts drifted to the moments she had shared so far with Solomon.
One of her favorites being last night at the bowling alley.
That had been a blast. Even though she almost lost her balance—again—she didn’t regret one moment of it.
Solomon. What a handsome mystery he was.
All the pieces of who he was flowed around in her mind.
His smooth, dark skin and the way his eyes lit up when he smiled.
That smile. It could infuse warmth into the coldest heart.
He was kind, obviously some kind of mama’s boy with the effort he was trying to put toward pleasing his parents and this vow renewal.
Well, not a mama’s boy, just a good son.
And that was worth its weight in gold. He was intelligent—had to be as a doctor of physical therapy.
He knew things that she could never learn and wouldn’t even try.
She had not been made for those types of studies.
That had been more than apparent as she was growing up.
But no matter, she was good at a lot of other things.
And once she got this ankle healed and got back to work, she would prove it. There was no other option.
And this thing with Solomon . . . well, maybe it would unfold into something beyond pretend.
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been attracted to him from the first time she saw him.
And that had been confirmed on that reopening night of the Hope Springs Community Center.
She’d been too intimidated to engage in much conversation with him, preferring to buzz around the room.
Until a date put them together. And that same date pushed them back apart .
. . until now. He was a mystery, a puzzle that she wanted to complete.
A buzz sounded next to her feet. She glanced down. The ten-pound weights she’d been holding dropped with a thud as she released them to pick up her phone.
“Hey, baby sister.”
“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” Salome chuckled. “Especially since your little sister has been driving you to your appointments like the grown, responsible adult that she is.” Her voice tinkled against Kenya’s ear.
“Nope, probably not.”
“Should I call you little big sis since I kind of tower over you?”
Salome was in fact the tallest Stewart sister, coming in just a couple inches under six feet. Middle sister Celise was on the shorter end of runway models at five nine, and somehow, although she was the first, Kenya took after some distant relative and was the petite one at five two.
“Maybe you can call me number one. It’s an accurate description, but it lends itself to the authority and the hierarchy that is within our family for me as the older sister.”
“How about I pray on that?”
“You do that. What’s up? How are things at the retirement home?” Passionate about all things visual art, Salome spent her mornings teaching classes at the school where their mother worked and then facilitating art therapy with the residents of the Sunny Days Retirement Home in the afternoons.
Just as with most people who lived in their area, work often bounced them between Huntsville and the surrounding suburbs.
It was often hard to tell where Huntsville stopped and Hope Springs began, but the residents sure knew and took pride in their smaller communities when the time called for it.
And when it didn’t, they leaned into the prominence of the Rocket City.
“Things are good, I just finished an art class, and of course Mr. Mosely was flirting. Miss Sherry tried to use some of the medicine she’d been hiding for an art project, so then class was interrupted while the nurses got that taken care of.
And then Mr. Edelman of course gave me the name of another person I should consider marrying.
Marry. Not meeting this great-nephew of his, not a phone call, just an arranged marriage by a resident of the retirement home. ”
Kenya laughed. “Well, you can’t say that you don’t have options.”
“Nope, just drowning in options that I have never met, nor do I care to meet. Like, if you can’t come and visit your relative, how are you even a good person?” She sighed. “But despite all his matchmaking schemes, Mr. Edelman is the sweetest man.”
“He definitely sounds like it.” Kenya eyed the dumbbell, wondering if she should pick it up with her other hand, at least work that arm out while she talked.
“I was calling because I got a message from Adanne now that they are back from their honeymoon and have spent several days in obscurity.”
“Right.” Kenya smirked.
“She wanted to see when it would work out to have a girls’ night.”
“Yes.”
“The question was when.”
“With the way my schedule is right now, I don’t need to know when, it’s just yes for me because I have nothing to do.”
“Don’t forget your therapy with Hot Doc.”
“Salome! Such language.”
“It’s true!”
“But he’s not my doctor.”
“So, you know of whom I speak! And you think he’s hot.”
“I am invoking my firstborn rights and not answering that question.”