Page 6 of Choosing the Chief

“I don’t have to tell you shit, Adom. You don’t own me. I know what I’m doing, and I do not need your protection.”

I steel myself for his response. I prepare for the booming voice and demanding tone. I mentally stack the barbs I will sling back at him. Instead, he leans over and places his elbows on his knees, making a steeple with his fingers against his nose before exhaling. His eyes study me before he speaks in a pointed whisper. “Take a shower and get dressed. We’re going to lunch. Be ready in an hour.” Then he stands and walks past me without another word.

I’m left standing in my room. Certainly, he’s coming back to tell me what he thinks. But then I hear him start to blast UGK’s “Int’l Players Anthem” through the house speakers, and I know he’s not coming back. We’re going to lunch. His calmness is more intimidating than his usual rage at my self-harm.Adom is not a patient man.Maybe he’s run out of patience with me.

* * *

Adom’s favorite restaurant is Pappadeaux, and that’s where we are headed for lunch. It’s a silent ride. I look like my old self. My confidence might be shaken, and my body wracked with injuries, but you can never unlearn being a model. I am wearing a simple silk baby doll dress in fuchsia, sheer pantyhose, and gold Louboutins. I accessorized with gold hoops, multiple gold necklaces, and my favorite pink sapphire cocktail ring. I decided to forgo makeup and let Carmex be my gloss. Before I left the house, I took a long look in a full-length mirror and was pleased. I look good. Adom tried not to stare at my long legs when he placed my cape on my shoulders. He failed.

When we arrive, the valet opens my door and Adom comes around to escort me into the restaurant with a hand placed strategically above my ass. I feel like his. Once inside, he orders us drinks. I try to order a glass of wine, but his sharp glance changes my mind. Seltzer water it is! He orders a ginger beer in solidarity. He looks delicious in his navy-blue suit. His crisp white shirt is open at the neck. When the waiter returns, we order food.

Adom feigns looking over the menu. He knows he’s just going to order the crab legs. He clears his throat and hands his menu to the server. “I’ll have one pound of king crab legs. Please ensure each leg is separated from the cluster. Don’t crack open the shells—I’ll do that myself. Please bring three cups of drawn butter and a new and unopened bottle of Old Bay seasoning.” The server starts to sweat. I can’t help but smirk at Adom’s nitpickiness. Ella and I always hated going to dinner with him in college. Ordering food was always a chore.

“I’ll just have the Caesar salad.” I hand the server my menu and sip my boring drink.

“Maya, you need protein.” Adom looks to the server. “Please add shrimp to her salad. Not salad shrimp. She needs at least eight medium-sized pieces for her salad.”

I don’t bother to protest even though I want to. It’s already too tense. We don’t say another word until the food comes. I pick at mine for a few minutes before I break the silence.

“Are we going to address what happened this morning? You never responded to anything I said.”

Adom looks at me with amusement while he continues to inhale his crab legs. I’m sure he knows I’m popping hard pills. He finally comes up for air and sighs. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. Maybe it’s like you said: I’m not man enough to tell you what you really need to hear.” He plucks the last crab leg from the bucket, cracks it open, and dredges it in butter and Old Bay seasoning before sliding the sweet meat out of its claw with his perfect white teeth. He looks up from his plate to give me a quick, sympathetic head shake. “To be perfectly honest, I’m tired. You know you’re killing yourself, but you don’t want to change. I’ve offered you every avenue to heal, but instead you choose to self-medicate. I refuse to watch you do it anymore. I’m leaving.”

My eyes go wide. I know he can feel my panic, because I can. “Leaving? Where are you going? I told you I’m leaving you! You don’t get to leave me…it’s your fucking house!”

He slowly unfolds his linen napkin and wipes his mouth. He takes a few sips of ginger beer and exhales slowly. “Maya, I’m leaving the country. You can stay at my house or not. It no longer matters to me. I will leave you the keys. But I’m going to Ghana to take care of some family business. Maybe the solitude will actually do you some good.”

He’s leaving me.I knew he would, because people always leave. My parents left before they got me back home from the hospital. Our car crashed into a guardrail. Ella left. She went to Ghana, fell in love, and never looked back. Now Adom is leaving. Maybe he’ll go to Ghana and fall in love, too. One thing is clear: He’s not in love with me. If he were, he wouldn’t leave.

Well, he can leave. I’m not going to cry or beg him to stay. He will never know how much this hurts. I’m not giving his arrogant ass the satisfaction. This is classic Adom. Shit doesn’t fit into his perfect little world and he decides it’s not worth his attention.

I sit up in my chair and look him in his eye. “What’s in Ghana?”Who’s in Ghana. I’m better than her. Don’t leave me.

“Tafo. My grandfather is very sick. I’m technically next in line to be chief. I’m his oldest grandson, and his only son is a man sworn to the cloth. I’m going to check on the family and ensure they have a proper succession plan, because I’m not it.”

“I see. Why do you think you can’t be chief? As Kofi’s biological brother, you are technically a prince.”I shouldn’t have said that. It’s a sensitive subject because Mr. Perfect isn’t so perfect after all. The look he shoots me could kill.

“So now you want to talk shit, huh?”

I let out a sigh and pick at my salad. “Stop being so dramatic. It is what it is. Your father was king. It’s time you face it. Face your mother. You’re always telling me to heal…how about you take some of your own advice?” I slam my fork down and look at him. “You talk about my self-medication? What about you? You self-medicate with control, women, and sex. You’re in no position to judge.”

He gestures for the server. “Bring me a double Hennessey XO, neat.” This motherfucker is really about to drink in front of me. Two can play this game.

“I’ll have a glass of your best Chardonnay.”

Adom slaps his fist on the table just loud enough to make his point without drawing attention. “Don’t be childish. You’re not drinking. Who knows what’s in your system right now?” He waves the server off. The server looks at me and I stare him down. He nods, and I’m sure my glass of Chardonnay is on its way.

Adom is livid. “Fine, if you want to risk death, drink what you want. Because I know your body is not drug-free right now!”

It’s all I can do to shake my head. He’s right, but I’m still not bowing to him. He can’t keep telling me what to do, especially when he’s leaving me! I don’t even look at him.

When my Chardonnay arrives, the server scampers away before either of us can say a word. Adom glares at me, daring me to take a sip. I lift the glass and put it to my mouth before slamming it down on the table. “Let’s be clear. I am not going to drink this because I did take some medication before we left. It has nothing to do with your empty commands.”

Adom curses under his breath. “Maya, this is what I’m talking about. All I do is yell at you and ensure you don’t kill yourself lately. Do you think that’s what I want? I’m not playing this game anymore. I’ve been playing it for months and I’m done. I will be in Ghana for at least a month.”

I say nothing for a long time and neither does he. When the server comes back with his drink, he knocks it back and gives the server his card. “When are you leaving?” I ask.

“Day after tomorrow,” he responds coldly. He’s abandoning me with no regret.Maybe even eagerly. “Kofi asked me to come weeks ago, but I was busy taking care of you. Now that you’ve made it clear you don’t want me in that role anymore by lying to me about your pain pill habit this morning, I’m going.”

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