Chapter I
I
Ebun’s half-brothers were more acquaintances than siblings. She was familiar with them, could describe them to a stranger, but she had no real relationship with them. Still, every now and then, they would remember her, try to include her; especially once she became a mother.
This time, Tomisin, second son of her mother’s third husband, invited her for his daughter’s tenth birthday. And she decided to accept the invitation, because Eniiyi was rarely in the company of other children.
The doors of her brother’s home were opened for her, and she was led through a long, wide corridor with marble floors to the back of the house. Tomisin worked in the oil industry and was clearly a success.
Eniiyi was twisting her head this way and that, looking at the expensive furniture as they walked through the house to the garden.
Janet Jackson’s “Doesn’t Really Matter” blared from the stereo and the garden was brimming with guests chatting to one another, sipping from wine glasses, whilst the children ran around chasing each other.
And in the centre of it all was a swimming pool.
Ebun instinctively tightened her grip on Eniiyi’s shoulder; if she had learnt one thing about the six-year-old, it was that she would run towards the most dangerous thing she spotted.
She searched for her brother, and failing that, his wife, Odeli—who was hard to miss.
She had braids that shone and shimmered all the way down past her ass, and she had squeezed into a skin-tight, translucent dress that hugged her every curve.
The outfit was not exactly appropriate for a children’s party, but then this children’s party seemed to be as much for the adults as for the children.
Her sister-in-law was standing with three other women, who gave Ebun a once-over as she drew near.
Odeli greeted her warmly and gave her three air kisses.
“You made it!”
“Yes, of course.”
“Oh, and this must be little Enitan. Goodness, look at that hair! It’s exquisite!”
“Eniiyi.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course.” Odeli twisted her body and waved to a woman in a plain uniform, who came jogging over. “Please take Eyini to meet the children.”
Ebun held her daughter’s hand tighter. “It’s okay. She is fine with me.”
Odeli sighed, and touched her arm with one of her regal, long-tipped fingers. “Sweetie, you’ve got to let go. Motherhood is harrrrrd. Take a breather now and then. Anu is the best. An absolute A-plus nanny. She will take care of Ereyi.”
She would have said no, but Eniiyi was dancing on the spot, eager to be free. And none of the other parents had their children glued to their sides. Ebun released her grip and Eniiyi practically fell into Anu’s arms.
She tried to follow the conversation Odeli was having with her friends, but found it trivial.
One of them appeared to be considering having an affair—after all, she had caught her significant other cheating several times.
She backed away from them slowly, and searched for a wall to lean against. And as her eyes wandered over the guests, she saw a profile she recognised.
She watched Tolu from a distance for a while.
He was wearing harem pants and a linen shirt with a deep V.
She saw the glint of his earring. Add his glorious afro, and he had the look of a hippie, or a cult leader.
Beside him, her hand resting on his, was an oyinbo woman with a pixie cut, and the two of them were talking animatedly to a family friend.
She was glad to see Tolu happy, to see that he had started to heal from Monife’s death.
Six years had gone by since they had buried Mo, and in that time, her pain had lessened, but the guilt…
the guilt was so very potent still. She walked in his direction, but when he saw her, his smile slipped.
He recovered quickly, but he had already revealed his true feelings.
Time had not lessened the blame he laid at her feet.
“Ebun.”
“Hey, T.” She crossed her arms, rubbing her left arm with her right. “Surprised to see you at a kids’ birthday party.”
“I like to keep people guessing.”
“Mmm-hmm. I hope you’re not telling these girls you’re a family man.” It sounded harsher than she meant to be, but he didn’t react. His smile was cool.
“Who is this?” asked the woman, sidling up to him.
“My cousin, Ebun. Ebun, this is Dawn.”
Dawn beamed at her. “Gosh. Tolu, your cousin is gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Ebun replied, just as she felt a tugging on her dress. She looked down into Eniiyi’s infinite eyes. Beside her daughter stood two older children. Behind them was Anu, still doing her work as an A-plus nanny.
“Mummy, I want to swim.”
“What do you say?” she said automatically.
“Pleassssse.”
“Good. But no, you can’t swim.”
As her daughter began to whine, gearing up for a full-blown tantrum, she heard Tolu’s sharp intake of breath.
Since Monife’s passing, he had barely been to the house, and when he did come, on the odd Sunday, to visit his mother, he breezed in and out like a poltergeist. Bunmi and Kemi would cook up a feast for him, he would pick this and that, and then he would be gone.
He had certainly not spared a moment for the little girl growing up in the Falodun house.
He had probably never really looked at her. But he was looking now.
“Fuck, she’s just like—”
“Language.” Ebun cut him off without thinking, because she was a mother now, and because she needed to stop him finishing that sentence.
Yet how could she blame him? It was impossible to look at Eniiyi and not think of the woman who had come before her.
Tolu crouched down, staring at the six-year-old, who was now rolling around on the floor hiccuping with sobs.
He stopped her mid-roll, lifted her and planted her on her feet.
In her confusion, Eniiyi stopped crying and stared at the strange man.
For a beat, it looked as if they were communicating; as though Tolu was looking beyond the body of the child to the soul beneath. And then he let her go.
Eniiyi raised her hand and tapped his nose with her finger. “Boop!” she said.
He stood up. “Just let her go and swim, for goodness’ sake.”
Ebun bristled. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve denied her a father; at least take some male advice.”
“Tolu,” warned Ebun.
“She will be fine,” he continued. “Anu will watch over her. Abi, Anu?”
The nanny nodded. Ebun wanted to refuse, but she felt Tolu’s eyes on her, waiting for her to make a hard-headed decision.
“Stay in the shallow end,” she told her daughter. As she watched Eniiyi skip away with her new friends, she heard Dawn asking Tolu if he was okay.
“If I didn’t know better,” he replied, “I’d think my sister had birthed that child.”