His mother leaned over the remnants of her rice. “You have already finished school. You are licensed and working. Why would you need to do anything more when you will not be here for long?”
“I have atemporarylicense, which will become permanent once I pass. And who knows? Maybe I’ll be here longer than originally planned.”
“What?” Simon and his father barked together.
“We are months away from finalizing our East Coast acquisition. You are meant to be in New York just a few weeks after your cousin’s wedding,” his father said.
Simon narrowed his eyes. “What is the point of doing all this work here if you’ll be practicing and helping me in New York?” His brother kept his bravado intact, but Solomon saw the betrayal in his eyes.
Solomon wanted to be bold and tell them how much he didn’t want to join the family business, selling couture clothing to the über rich and famous. He wanted to say how this town was more than where his mother went to college or where his residency placement was. He enjoyed being here and didn’t look forward to returning to the more hectic pace of the East Coast. But just like when he was a quivering kid being sent off to boarding school over fifteen years ago, his insides turned to Jell-O, like a patient with hypotonia—no tone, just plain weakness. Like the way Kenya had tripped over her own two feet and fallen, his mind tripped over words to appease his parents. Like Kenya had fallen. Kenya...
“If I leave so soon, I don’t think my, uh, girlfriend will be happy about it.”
“Ah-ah!Girlfriend?” It was the women’s turn to squeal.
“I need details,” Nneka cried.
“And you will get none.”Solomon,what are you thinking? Instead of escaping their grasp,you are playing right into their hands!He blamed Nurse Audrey for putting that thought into his head.
His father pressed his lips together, not completely satisfiedwith that answer. But he would not get in the way of his wife’s excitement.
“What does she do?” she pressed.
That was the most important detail behind him having a girlfriend.
“She works with businesses, some management, I think.” He grasped at straws, but if he could throw them off his scent for a little while longer and pass his test, that would at least give him more leverage in winning his life back.
“Yes, yes! This is perfect! Why didn’t you say all this earlier?” His mother joyfully shimmied around the table to wrap her arms around his neck. “This is good, good news. We will do a renewal party not only in honor of our thirty-five years of marriage—thank you, Jesus.” She glanced upward before setting her eyes on Solomon. “But we also look forward to meeting this wonderful woman soon.”
Solomon choked, grasping his glass of water. He took a few gulps and gaped at his sister. She lifted an eyebrow in challenge.
Solomon shoved a spoonful of cold jollof into his mouth. If studying for the NPTE wasn’t enough, now he had to make good on the words he’d just let out of his mouth.
6
KENYA HOBBLED OUTof the elevator onto the third floor of the Surge office building.
“Oh dear, what happened?”
Clutching her computer bag, she waved away her coworker Dedra, whose blue eyes widened the closer Kenya came.
“Iwillsay that this is the slowest you’ve ever arrived on a Monday morning. Instead of a whirlwind, you came in kind of like a clunky breeze. Which is unusual, especially on a day where you should be ready to totally rock this presentation that we rescheduled.” She pursed her lips, taking Kenya’s bag from her without her asking. Kenya fell into step—hobble—with her.
“What is it this time?”
Kenya whipped her head toward her friend, instantly regretting it when her balance shifted. Her ankle protested sharply despite the pain meds she’d taken this morning. She placed a hand against a wall, the metal bangles on her wrist pressed against her skin. “What do you mean, ‘this time’?” She sucked in a shaky breath before resuming her forward motion. “This is the first time I recall twisting my ankle.”
“From the way you’re laboring along, I would say ‘twist’ is an understatement.”
Kenya focused on her steps and the presentation she had thankfully memorized before her wicked fall.
“I’m just saying that you are not one to back down from adventure or activity, and you always seem to do so in the wrong shoes. So, what was it this time? Did you go for a run on Saturday? Hiking to Monte Sano yesterday?”
“Not you too. What does everyone have against my attempt to be adventurousandstylish?” She liked shoes, and she liked to be on the move.
“Well, at the very least, I would have worn sneakers or flats with that thing.”
Kenya glanced down. Okay, she had to admit that wearing a platform bootie with her Aircast probably wasn’t the best decision she’d ever made. But in her pain-med-induced haze, it’d seemed like a good idea to match the height that the boot was giving.
