“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 torisk and do what is in your heart without caringabout 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 WIPEDhis 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 onhim, drying up the laughter in his throat. He wasn’t the son of a prophet, but he sure had an idea what was coming.
