Chapter 2 Adesua Ridley #2
Wei gave a smug, approving smile, turning around to look at his siblings above him, knowing they had a hard act to follow.
Now for Omar. Adesua loved him the most for his stoic and observant demeanor, which was the complete opposite of Wei’s.
He was more introspective, though he still retained that steady inner confidence.
He had a muscular build and a certain strength about him from his championship-winning rowing days.
Omar had a razor-sharp jawline on par with the Grecian gods.
His thick dark hair fell into his golden-hued face if he looked down too much.
Everything about him made him seem mysterious, and women wouldn’t dare look him in the eye.
Adesua called him the mediator and peacemaker.
Every time Kavita went into Adesua’s room to use her lipstick and left it open to dry, he was there to stop the screaming match.
He was there if his younger brother Henrik cried because he didn’t know what he wanted to do after high school.
Omar knew most women were too intimidated when he approached them, but this didn’t bother him.
He was not one for a party, as he would seemingly vanish after saying brief hellos, only to approach bold women who wanted a chance with him.
He was always the one to make a beeline for any potential business partners or owners who had no connection to his family.
“Omar Idris Ridley—this twenty-four-year-old man warms all of our hearts here in the city, and he’s a Columbia grad as well and everything you’d want in a businessman.”
Adesua never understood why her younger brothers were announced ahead of the girls, even though she and Amelia were older.
Nonetheless, Diego and Henrik were next.
Yes, the youngest boys were often forgotten, because what good were eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds in business?
They were still seen as mere children, while their sisters were considered of age as soon as they’d graduated from high school.
Young and old men frolicked and waited for a chance to see Adesua and her sisters.
But now it was Diego’s turn. He stood out from all his siblings.
He was shorter, around five foot six, but was still as handsome as ever with a charming face.
He had a noticeable rich and warm tan, along with effortless wavy chestnut-colored hair.
The confidence was still there despite his more diminutive stature.
Diego had a passion for cooking; it was his way of showing love.
Girls at his school swooned every time he called them “darling.” Diego was never one to be involved in the Ridley Line, just like his brother Henrik.
They would nod at family meetings to feign interest.
“Our next brother is Diego Rafael Ridley, our favorite chef since he was a little boy. He has been attending Columbia since last fall and will also be working with the Ridley Line after his studies, hoping for a great career playing polo. One can dream!” the announcer said with joyful glee, just as instructed by Mr. Ridley.
That was a lie. Diego had repeatedly told his father that he wanted nothing to do with the Ridley Line and that he was planning to quit polo.
He played with great aggression, and his jaw-dropping swing set him apart, like Henrik with baseball.
He was met only with laughter and his father’s signature line: “You’ll learn in due time.
Sacrifices are far more important than our little needs.
” Diego wanted more than cold buildings and studying endlessly for .
. . what? To be marked for a life that was premade for him?
A life where he had no choice? He only found happiness in the kitchen, with the smell of his favorite cranberry bread.
Diego loved how his food made his sisters, especially Adesua, smile.
He loved bringing happiness in unconventional ways that money couldn’t buy.
“Hey, don’t get cold feet now,” Henrik whispered to him, worried.
Diego snapped out of it and quickly galloped down the stairs.
He stood next to his staggeringly tall brothers, gripping his hands together to appear as confident as they were.
His hazel eyes were clearly inviting to women, as they began to edge closer to the siblings.
They hadn’t noticed Diego until this year.
Perhaps because his hair was gelled in a certain way, and now, one year older, he had better potential than his playboy brother, Wei, and the observer, Omar.
Diego liked the feeling. For the first time, some of the younger ladies saw him as a man, not as the little boy who wanted to serve cookies to guests.
The announcer had grown exasperated, but he was quite pleased when he got to the last brother.
Henrik stood next to Adesua and Kavita outside the room.
Unlike his siblings, Henrik was the easygoing golden boy who lit up the room when he decided to show up for family events.
He had fair skin, bright-blue eyes, and flat blond hair.
Even at five foot ten, he appeared to be a very small-framed young man to most. The only thing grand about him was a voice that could bring a room to tears.
He’d only discovered this power as a young teenager, when Adesua asked him to sing “Happy Birthday” to their mother, Caroline.
Everyone had been silent when he sang the last “you” in the song.
The only thing that could be heard was his mother whimpering through her tears as she hugged him.
There’d been a constant hum of music in Henrik’s mind from that moment.
Soon after, he made little ditties in the grand music room.
He wanted his voice heard, but his father wanted only to hear him talk about where he wanted to go to college for baseball since he had one hell of a swing, if Columbia was out of the question.
Henrik wanted to do everything his brothers didn’t, and that started with not attending Columbia after high school.
“And now we have the baby boy, Henrik Joseph Ridley, currently at Collegiate School, with a voice to boot.”
Adesua waited patiently, as she knew Amelia would be announced next, so this gave her some time to catch her breath—in a dress that felt like it was getting tighter and tighter with every moment that passed.
Mr. Jenkins approached her with a downward smile. “Mr. Ridley has informed me you will be announced next.” He turned away before Adesua could interject with her usual stream of questions.
She turned around to Amelia in confusion. “What is that all about?”
Amelia shrugged. “You know how Father is always changing plans on us. I am not sure, Dusie.”
Adesua didn’t like not knowing things, even something as simple as this.
The announcer stirred up his papers, wiping the sweat from his brow and looking back, ensuring he was announcing the right name next.
“And now we have our lovely jewel, Adesua Louise Ridley, a soft-spoken connoisseur of fine art, a ballerina, and a recent graduate of Spelman College.”
Adesua walked out the double doors with her head bowed and brought her hands together in prayer, in awe of the roaring crowd.
Her smile drooped a little when she saw Dale talking to people from her Harlem circle, which added to the list of confusing happenings tonight.
Dale had never spoken to them before, so why now?
Her boyfriend, Joseph, shook his head. She gripped the sides of her dress, probably making a few of the stones pop off.
She smiled as she came down the other side of the stairs.
Her emerald gown shimmered on her deep-mahogany skin like magic.
Everyone was entranced by Adesua, even if they didn’t want to admit it.
She trailed a vanilla-oud-and-honey scent anywhere she went; it made men and women look at her with a sense of envy or admiration.
Adesua glided like a princess with soft poise.
She looked up at Amelia and Kavita, now the only siblings left standing.
She thought maybe her father wanted Mellie, as the eldest sister, to make the announcement.
The look on Amelia’s face said otherwise.
Strangely enough, Father approached Kavita and grabbed her hand, bringing her up to the podium.
“I wanted to tell the finest of New York some amazing news before all the columns get word of it tomorrow. My youngest daughter, Kavita, is now engaged,” he said with vigor.
A round of applause and whistles flooded the room.
Adesua noticed that Kavita looked down with a smile that didn’t match her usual self.
Father gestured for Kavita’s fiancé, Franklin, to come up the stairs to be formally introduced.
Franklin took large steps, almost flying up the stairs in happiness to get next to Kavita.
Adesua had never met him before this, and for a stranger to be invited into their family so easily was concerning to say the least. He had never been in their scene or attended their events, so seeing Father so eager for Kavita to settle down was peculiar.
“I am grateful to my father for blessing this union between me and my fiancé. We are excited that, finally, the world knows of our love,” Kavita responded almost mechanically while grabbing Franklin’s hand.
Father had a way of making them all talk to the crowd in a certain way. Even Kavita knew she had to feed his ego to stay in his good graces, no matter what. Father then continued his speech, which felt almost never-ending.
“So now only two of my beautiful daughters are in need of an eligible husband,” he said, chuckling, ending his sentiments and gesturing for Franklin to walk Kavita to the front, in the center of the siblings.
Adesua was upset by this because she wanted to see what the fuss was about over having Amelia announced last.
Father cleared his throat while fumbling with his gold ring.
“I had to save this for last, because for a long time, I wanted this moment to be spontaneous. So, Amelia, please come closer to your old man,” he said with a gleeful smile.
Amelia didn’t react in any way. In Adesua’s eyes, it almost seemed like she knew what would happen next.
“My daughter has been around the Ridley Line since she was a young girl: picking colors of rugs in our ships; sitting in the captain’s chair pretending to steer; delivering handwritten notes to the crew; and now negotiating international deals with France, handling port contracts, and so much more.
” He started to get teary-eyed. Mother rubbed his shoulder in support.
She interrupted Father, which was out of the ordinary. “And let us not forget, she’s also a great daughter, always there for all her sisters and brothers.”
Now, this was strange, very strange indeed. Adesua furrowed her brow as she looked back at Father. Wei turned toward her, shaking his head in confusion. She shrugged.
“It is my great pleasure to announce Amelia, our Mellie, will be the future owner of the Ridley Line,” he said, raising his glass.
Adesua nearly blacked out hearing those words, not because she cared whether she would run the company, but because she was concerned for her brothers.
She knew how much the business meant to Wei and Omar.
She was supposed to be Amelia’s confidante, but now she wasn’t even seen as important enough to be told this groundbreaking news.
What hurt the most was that Amelia had kept this from her, making her feel like they were the odd ones out for not settling down, or even just secretly mocking Father.
Now, all of a sudden, she was his right-hand woman? What else was Amelia hiding?
Everything became a blur when Amelia walked down the stairs.
She must have known Adesua wouldn’t be able to hold back from saying how she felt, because she made sure to get far away from her sister.
She took the coward’s way out and stood next to Henrik, making him and Diego move apart to make room for her.
Adesua felt like she was a mere memory compared to her sisters.
Nothing that she had done so far had been notable enough for the press to even bat their eyes her way.
As the announcer made his final remarks, encouraging everyone to enjoy the night’s festivities, Adesua made a beeline straight for Amelia.
Before she knew it, though, the siblings broke apart after hors d’oeuvres started flowing and the music was amped up again by Duke Ellington.
She shot a look that could cut glass at Amelia, shaking her head to insinuate she better not move.
She walked toward Amelia quickly, until her footsteps came to a screeching halt when a man got in her way.
“Oh, our lovely Dusie. How we missed you at the Manhattan Ballet.” He hugged her with such force she didn’t get a chance to realize who he was.
When he released his grip, a rush of emotions flooded over her. It was Iman Gerielli, one of the board members from the ballet society she was involved in until she left for college.
“Oh, Iman, you look so much younger,” Adesua said gleefully. He, in fact, did not look younger. He had gone completely bald. Iman used to have hair that flew down his back like a princess in folklore. Anytime he was dismayed by a performance, he’d sling his hair back and forth.
“We at the society would love to showcase your artwork at our next ballet performance, where we’re featuring what our alumni are doing after leaving the ballet world.”
She was shocked because she remembered how much trouble they’d given her for being the eyesore of the group.
Never blending in, as even with her bright-pink tights, her dark skin shone brighter than everyone else’s.
Painting was her quiet escape, and no one could tell her that it was considered inappropriate.
For Adesua, after leaving the orphanage, having a paintbrush in her hand always felt like her escape.
She remembered when Mother asked her what she wanted to be when she was older.
Adesua went from saying “ballerina” to “painter,” and to her surprise, Mother wanted her to do it all, and that was exactly what she did.
“I would love that, Iman. Please send me any information to our estate, and I will make sure to accommodate it.”
He clapped his hands together with such excitement. “Oh perfect, darling. We will be in touch soon.”
With that, Iman disappeared from her view—and so had Amelia.