Page 41 of Royal Pain
“Hello, guys! Hey, I’m glad you all showed up for our guest. Boys, this is Belinda.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” the second oldest child asks. He looks to be about ten.
Princess Monifa sends a silent message to stop asking personal questions with her expression. The boy quiets, by pressing his lips together, holding back a laugh.
Tarik looks at me and throws up his hands. “Children are brutally honest and absolutely curious.”
“Yes, Isoba. Belinda is my girlfriend.” Zan puts a hand on my back. “Belinda, these are my nephews. Isoba, Nubia, Kojo, and this little guy is Gugu.”
They each offer me a kiss on the cheek, and it’s my pleasure to accept.
“Okay let’s get going. Mother and Father are waiting. There’s a lunch,” Tarik says, leading the way.
* * *
Driving onto the compound is an experience I won’t forget. Tall iron gates, guarded by armed men in uniform, juxtaposed by a van full of energetic children whose innocence charms me. Even Nubia, the eldest, is playful with his brothers.
The colored stone road leading in is different. It’s a deep pink, and against the green foliage it looks dramatic. The shades of late blooming flowers and tree blossoms line the road.
“Tell Mom we’ll be at the house in fifteen minutes,” Zan says.
“Okay. Don’t get sidetracked, brother.”
A quiet chuckle is his only response. As we take one more curve in the road, a beautiful house comes into view. One story, a soft yellow stucco exterior with a red tiled roof. Wide steps lead up to a porch. There’s black glossy ceramic pots with small trees I don’t recognize on either side of the tall glossy black carved door.
“Here we are,” Princess Monifa says.
“This is your house?” I ask.
A big smile breaks out on Zan’s face. “Yeah. What do you think?”
“It’s really beautiful.”
The car comes to a stop. As soon as little hands grab the handles of the doors, their mother speaks up. “Stay where you are. We’re not going in.” Mumbles can be heard, but they obey. “We’ll see you at the house,” the princess adds.
“See you there,” I answer.
Tarik pops the trunk and gets out. Zan and I follow.
“Want me to take it in?” Tarik asks, standing my big suitcase upright. He pulls the carryon behind him.
“I’ve got it. Thanks,” Zan says, taking them both from him.
“See you two soon,” he says, returning to the car. Little hands can be seen waving from the windows.
“Let’s drop your things off and then we can walk to the big house.”
“I can help.” I try to take the small case, but he refuses with a tight grip.
“I got it. Door’s open. Just walk in.”
I climb the stairs all the while trying to absorb the setting. It’s really perfect here. The house looks like it’s private, even though I know his entire family lives on the same plot of land. Must be acres though.
Opening the front door, I’m taken by the warmth of the great room. It’s modern, but not cold. Large but not cavernous. It’s got a real charm. There’s not a lot of doodads, as my grandmother used to say, sitting on the surfaces. But the topper is the picture window on the back wall. It reveals a lush garden.
“Oh, Zan. This is spectacular!”
“You like it? Really? I put a lot of thought into this place.”
