Marry Me Twice

by Monica Walters

  The closer this guy got to me, the more handsome he appeared, especially when he smiled. Dear God, why now? “How you doing, Pretty Black Doll?”

  I frowned slightly but decided to just accept the compliment. Plus, I heard a slight accent that definitely reminded me of my homeland. Being that it had sort of a British flavor to it, I knew immediately he was from Sierra Leone, or at least near it. “I’m fine. How are you?”

  His eyebrows had risen slightly, and I knew it was in response to my voice and probably that I had an accent, too. I’d been told that my voice was sexy and could definitely put an angel’s voice to shame. It was medium-ranged in pitch, but it was soulfully heavy. “I’m good now,” he said, grabbing my hand.

  I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. “My name is Haji and I wanted to know if it was possible to talk to you for a moment. I noticed you around here a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t approach you. So, I could only pray for another opportunity.”

  He had the tell-tale signs of a playa, and I didn’t have the time, energy, nor desire to deal with someone like him. I supposed I was judging him slightly, but whatever. “Nice to meet you, Haji. I’m Chinara. I hate that you wasted your prayer time on me. Have a good day.”

  I slid my hand from his and went inside the hair store. Glancing back at him, he was still standing there with his bottom lip tucked in his mouth. He was so sexy, but oh well. I rolled my eyes again and went to the register, only to find out that I couldn’t return the hair. It had been too long. I huffed, then walked out of the store to find him still standing there. Glancing at him as he clasped his hands together, giving me one of those looks that said he could fuck my world up, I continued to my car.

  By the time I got there, he was approaching me yet again. His swag was undeniable, and I could tell that he’d been in the States just as long as I had, if not longer. Before he opened his mouth, I would have never guessed he was African. His attire didn’t scream home. I wore African print sometimes, and I did my best not to indulge in much of the American culture when I first got here, but the food was my downfall. “Pretty Black Doll, can I have a minute?”

  “My name is Chinara. I told you that already,” I said as I spun around to look at him.

  “My bad, African Queen. Let me start over.”

  “Kusheh. Mi nem na Haji. Ah gladi fo mit yu.”

  “So, you think speaking Krio is going to impress me, Mr. Salone?”

  Back home we referred to Sierra Leone as Salone, combining it into one word. “I don’t fluently speak the dialect, but I do know that you said hello, stated your name, and said nice to meet you. Now if you’re done, I’m gonna go.”

  He frowned slightly. “You this hard all the time?”

  “Look. I’m not in the best mood and I wish you would just… leave me alone.”

  He lifted his hands in surrender, although I could feel my middle pulsating. He turned me on, and I wasn’t ready for that. “I’ll let you be, Ms. Chinara. I just thought that maybe I could help lighten your mood. Sorry, I bothered you. A de go.”

  I took a deep breath and got in my car as he walked away, wishing he would have tried harder. I was stressed, and my normally friendly personality was nowhere to be found. He tried, Nara. Glancing back at him, he was standing on the sidewalk with his friend, but his eyes were on me. Cranking my car, I headed home, escaping the seriousness of his gaze. That didn’t help his large frame escape my thoughts, though. He towered over me, so he had to be every bit of six-foot-three or taller. He was fine as hell, too. I could see his muscular frame beneath the shirt he wore. But his smile was everything and his dark chocolate skin made me thirsty.

  By the time I got home, I realized he was all I thought about on my way here. Me losing my job or not being able to pay my bills had never crossed my mind. But there was also something about Haji that gave me pause. I didn’t date somebody just to date them. I was twenty-eight and that phase of my life’s journey was over. A committed relationship was high on my list of priorities. Bringing my things inside the condo, I sat them on the table, then flopped on the couch, bringing my hands to my face. The only person I could vent to about my problems was way in Nigeria. My sister, Daraja, had been my confidant, but whenever it came to my personal issues, she always went back and told my parents. They were the last ones I wanted to bother with my issues.

  After getting up to put away my things and eating dinner, I decided to take a shower and call it a night. It was only seven, but I didn’t feel like going anywhere. This weekend would find me in my house, searching for a job that paid relatively well. I was in hustle mode and I couldn’t let anything deter me, including my growing interest in Haji.

  3

  Haji

  Maybe I should have moved back to Sierra Leone. I would have had time with my father. Maybe I could have gotten answers from him about our relationship. The same night that Chinara shut me down, my brother called me to say that my dad had fallen ill, and they weren’t giving him much longer. Once I got here, he lived another two days, then passed away. He was no longer conscious, and no one seemed to know what had happened. He was doing fine one minute and the next, he’d collapsed on the floor, unresponsive.

  My brothers seemed to be more torn up about his death than I was. I loved my dad, but I couldn’t force the tears out if I tried. As I sat here in his recliner, I realized that our relationship may have been what kept me from properly grieving him. I somewhat resented him. It was like he couldn’t just be happy for me. I was angry. And because of my anger, I had been in a nasty mood since I’d gotten here. No one wanted to be around me because I refused to speak Krio or to even hold friendly conversation. I’d been this way for almost two weeks.

  Just being here in his house, knowing that he’d practically disowned me had me feeling a way. My mama was the only one that seemed to understand how I was feeling. As I sat there, I quickly got up and went outside. Thankfully, the sun had gone down. Sitting on the porch, I thought about Chinara… the pretty, black doll that shut my ass down. Thoughts of her seemed to be plaguing me since that very day. I’d never been shut down like that. She was so forceful and even though I was sincere in my attempt to get to know her, she wasn’t hearing that shit.

  I didn’t know why in the fuck I was thinking about her rude ass anyway. My mama came and joined me outside. “Aw di bodi?”

  I didn’t wanna talk. “Haji, I know you’re angry, but baby, I don’t know what to say to make you feel better.”

  Exhaling, I turned to her and kissed her hand. She sat on the porch next to me and kissed my cheek. “Are you going to come to the reading of your father’s will?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just ready to go home and get back to my life. I know you’re suffering from his loss and I wish you would come to my place for a little while, but I know you won’t. Y’all act like coming to America to visit me would be like going to hell. But it is what it is.”

  She lowered her head, then got up and went inside. Whatever the problem was, they wouldn’t tell me, no matter how bad I tried to make them feel about it. My brother, Kevin, came outside and asked, “So, what did you do now? She’s crying.”

  “Why it had to be that I did something? Man, get the fuck out my face.”

  He grabbed my shirt, trying to pull me from my seat, but he must have forgotten that he was the lil, big brother. I was almost twice his size. Standing to my feet, I pushed him away from me. “Kevin, you don’t want this fight. You think Mama crying now, she gon’ be screaming in a minute. If you wanna be buried next to your father, that’s on you, but don’t fucking touch me like that again or I’m gon’ make that shit happen sooner than right now.”

  He was only two years older than me, but by the time I hit my last growth spurt when I was fifteen, I left him in my dust. Kevin was only about five-foot-eight but was always trying to manhandle me at six-foot-four and two hundred eighty pounds. Today would be his last time getting that reminder. “Why is my mother crying?”

  “Becau
se I told her the truth. I told her I wish she would come stay with me for a little while but her and your father act like I was asking them to come to hell to see me.”

  He shook his head. “You’re so disrespectful. Her husband just died and, whether you like it or not… your father.”

  “You know what? I think I’m gonna go home. A de go na os,” I said, giving him the satisfaction of repeating myself in Krio.

  I walked in the house and stormed to the room I was staying in, throwing my shit in my suitcase. Afterwards, I sat on the bed and saw that the next flight to Houston wasn’t available until tomorrow evening. Fuck! I booked it, then called for a ride to Mamba Point Hotel. As I made my way down the stairs, my oldest brother, Umaru, was waiting for me. “Haji, where are you going?”

  “To a hotel. I can’t be here any longer.”

  “Come to the reading tomorrow.”

  “My flight leaves out tomorrow. I don’t even know why I’m still here. I’m the outcast of this family anyway. Y’all act like I’m committing sin by staying in America. I’m educated and well-established in my career. Where I choose to live should be of no consequence.”

  “Haji, the reading is at ten. What time is your flight?”

  “Five.”

  “Please come. Dad left some things for us aside what he left for Mama. Hopefully, this can give you closure or insight into how he felt.”

  Umaru was always the voice of reason. He was seven years older than me and I always respected him growing up. He’d taught me and Kevin a lot over the years. “Come pick me up in the morning,” I said as I saw my car arrive.

  He nodded as I walked past him, glancing into the kitchen to see my mother on the phone, sitting at the kitchen table, no doubt, telling the rest of the family how disrespectful I’d been. I thought she understood me and how I was feeling, but maybe I was wrong about that shit. When I walked outside, my cell phone rang. Seeing it was a call from Beaumont, I answered. It was probably Jarius calling from the barbershop. While it was almost dark here, I knew it was still afternoon there. “Hello?”

  “How’s everything, man?”

  “Good. I’ll be heading back tomorrow. My house still in one piece?” I asked as I got in the car that was here to transport me to the hotel.

  “Nigga, yeah. You act like I been turning up in yo’ shit. Well… I mean, I have, but I know how to clean up after myself.”

  “My house better be in the same condition it was in when I left. I ain’t up for no bullshit when I get back.”

  “Man, chill out. I’ll see you in three days. Enjoy time with your family. Oh! Shit, I almost didn’t tell you. I saw yo’ girl. She was going to the hair store. She glanced this direction like she was looking for you, too.”

  “Whatever. I ain’t tripping over her ass no more. But we’ll talk when I get back. Thanks, Jarius.”

  “No problem, bruh.”

  I ended the call just as we got to the hotel. Taking that two-day flight back wasn’t something I was looking forward to so soon. Once I’d gone inside and gotten a room, I headed to the elevator, praying that tomorrow wouldn’t prove to alienate me even more from the family.

  When we walked into the attorney’s office, something in me said I shouldn’t have come. I didn’t know why, but I was feeling like some bullshit was about to piss me off. There wasn’t gonna be an understanding letter from my pops or soft words. He was a hard man, and I knew that even in death, he would still be a hard man. My mama had said that his insurance policy was for a couple of million, so maybe he was giving us a piece of that. What I didn’t understand was why he didn’t just leave it up to her how to divide it amongst us.

  Ense was a hard man and there weren’t many people he trusted. However, I always thought my mama would be one of the people he did. But whatever. I was just ready to sit and get this over with before I had to fuck Kevin up. He was looking at me like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I didn’t have a restful sleep, so I was already on edge. Umaru and his wife had picked me up and everything was cool until I got here. I could feel the anger inside of me trying to surface and it wouldn’t take much more to have it pouring out of me.

  I sat next to Umaru and Kevin and Mama sat on the other side of the table. When the attorney joined us, he greeted us all and got right to it. “Hello, Abimbola family. Ense left a wealth of things for you all. Money he’d set aside just in case something ever happened to him. He was always worried that being connected to the mines would find him dead somewhere, and as soon as the autopsy results are in, we will know exactly what happened. So, Afiong, the insurance policy is all yours and everything that’s in your account. He set something aside for his sons.”

  We all looked at one another as my mama nodded in acceptance. I was curious as to how she felt about having control of the money and what was done with it now that he was gone. She was like his child, too. She only did what he wanted her to do. The attorney turned his attention to Umaru, and said, “Your dad set aside three million dollars to be split evenly between the three of you. Umaru and Kevin, you two will leave here today with cashier’s checks. Which one of you is Haji?”

  No one answered him, but because I was the only one staring at him, he knew which one I was. I knew some shit was about to go down. I should have had brunch by myself and brought my ass to the airport. He cleared his throat and said, “Umm… Mr. Abimbola has stipulations on your money. He’s allowing you to take fifty thousand today, but the rest you can’t have until you’re married. And you have to be married for six months before you can get it.”

  My mama gasped as Kevin smirked and I could feel the tension in Umaru. “See. Even in death, he’s still fucking with me. And none of you at this table think anything’s wrong that. Keep the fucking money. All that shit.”

  “Haji, he’s releasing the fifty thousand. Please, take it,” my mama begged.

  I snatched the envelope from the attorney’s outstretched hand and stood from the table. “Haji, wait. There’s more,” the attorney said.

  I knew none of that shit probably included me, and all it was going to do was make me angrier, but I sat. This would show them just how much he hated that I was doing my own thing, living my life for me. The attorney went on to divide properties, bonds, and jewels that he’d stashed away in safety deposit boxes, but my mother’s eyes stayed on mine because, just as I thought, there was nothing else for me… at least I thought. “Haji, there is a letter here for you. It’s from your father and it’s personal, so if you don’t want me to read it, I won’t.”

  “Read it,” I said nonchalantly as I leaned back in my chair.

  This should be good. I could feel Umaru’s spirit. He was trying to calm me down, but that shit wasn’t working. Kevin still had that smug look on his face and Mama was the only reason I hadn’t gone upside his head. When I left Freetown today, I wouldn’t be back for a long-ass time, if at all. Staring at the attorney, he once again cleared his throat, like he was nervous. He began reading. “Haji. You’ve always been the son who chose to go against the grain. You wanted to do things on your own terms. What I realized about that, was that you are just like me. That’s why we can’t get along and that’s why I’m so hard on you. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”

  I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. We were nothing alike. I wasn’t nearly as hard and emotionless as he was. The attorney continued. “You need to learn a valuable lesson in life. It’s not about how many women you can conquer, but it’s about having that one that will be your queen and stand beside you. A woman like your mother. I bought you property in Houston, Texas. It’s a massive compound. I’m sure you can find a job there as a chemical engineer. But again, you have to be married for six months before you can get it. It’s already furnished, and your portion of jewels is stashed away in a safe deposit box. The directions on where the box is located is attached to this letter, along with the property’s address. The attorney will keep the keys until you have met the requirements.”

/>   It was all about control for him. For me to do what the fuck he wanted me to do. The attorney had stopped reading, so I asked, “You done?”

  He shook his head rapidly, then continued, “My past is what killed my parents. I didn’t want to listen. Trying to supply this white devil in New York with diamonds was hard. He was wanting them at a quicker rate than we could supply, so I started cheating my way through to get to that money. It cost me. All the money in the world can’t bring my parents back. Although I have all this wealth to split between you all, it means nothing to me. I took my anger out on a country instead of an individual. That’s why I didn’t want you to stay there. But have it your way.”

  I sat up and looked at the lawyer as he folded the letter. “So, no apology, nothing saying how he was proud of me for my accomplishments… nothing.”

  He shook his head, then I looked around the table. “Y’all see? No matter how much I’ve accomplished, I was never good enough for him. I have two degrees and make six-figures a year without being underhanded or doing anything illegal, but that means nothing to him. He controlled all of you and because he couldn’t control me, I was the outcast… the one who went against him. He can keep all that material shit.”

  I stood from my seat and walked out of the room, calling a car to come get me. Umaru joined me in the foyer. “I’m sorry, brother. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled as he walked out to open his vehicle for me to get my luggage.

  Just as I’d figured, I felt worse about staying for this reading. The material shit didn’t mean a thing to me if I didn’t have his approval for my accomplishments. I didn’t waste his money. Neither of my brothers had furthered their education. They did okay for themselves, but I never made either of them feel less than because they depended on him to help them when they needed him. After graduating and getting a job, I didn’t ask him for a dime. Most of the money he’d given me for school was still in my savings account.