Chapter Twenty-Six
Kwame
Sun Seeking Sky
As I ride over to the Sackey’s house, the last conversation I had with mother is at the forefront of my mind.
“Two suns can’t share the same sky.” It was her constant refrain about my relationship with my father.
Much like TGlo’s parting shot on our call the other day, it was her way of telling me I’d too have to choose whether I’d let his light diminish mine or step out on my own.
This job at a US Attorney’s office will be my first step in doing that.
I love my father.
I also reject his way of life.
I don’t think anyone should have as much money as he does. Not when there is so much need everywhere. Not when that wealth comes at the expense of fairness.
I have tried not to judge him for his choices. He had to flee his home and start his life over with nothing but his wits and cunning. I can’t say what I would have done in his shoes.
He is, by every objective measure, a success.
He’s also a gregarious host, a brilliant political strategist, and without a doubt one of the wealthiest self-made men of all time.
He has the Midas touch, and everyone who wanted to be somebody in Washington, DC came to kiss his ring.
He’s respected, revered, and feared by the people who curry his favor.
Yet, at the sunset of his life, no one knows who he really is.
Not even me. The story of his life is the stuff of legends and he’s the enigma at the heart of it. And it’s not just his story he’s rewritten.
His ability to weave a tale is his greatest and most dangerous talent.
He made unimaginable sacrifices for me to have the opportunities and choices I do today. I’m grateful…but sometimes, I’m deeply resentful, too.
Lying to the people you love for the sake of preserving a relationship is, in fact, what creates distance and prevents true closeness.
Years of doing it has made it a hard habit to break.
Whether Sin and I are going to be together romantically or not, I hope we’ll always be friends. She has to know the whole truth.
As unsavory as it is.
I have to hope she’ll understand that I am not my father.
Or, for that matter, my mother. Despite how much I’ve behaved like them since I met her.
I grip the steering wheel as doubt, too familiar and white-hot, shoots flares inside of me.
What if I’m wrong?
What if she never talks to me again?
How will I move on if it’s not with her?
I drop my head into my hands with a groan.
God, when did I become such a bitch?
Since you met your match.
Bitch.