“How did you guys know? That’s before you were born.”
“That show arrived in Britain many years after it stopped airing in America. It was our dads’ favourite. It was a sacred hour for them and we knew at a young age that when the famous opening starts playing, we had two choices. One”—Xander lifts his index finger in the air—“sit down, be quiet and watch the show with them or two”—he now lifts his middle finger—“get the hell out of the living room.”
“Xander is right. We couldn’t have been more than five years old at the time, but we knew we’d get in trouble if we didn’t obey. The show aired at eight PM on Wednesday nights. Our dads would meet at each other’s house—they’d alternate from one week to another.”
“Our mums knew the program well.” Xander picks up where Ethan left off. “They’d have a bottle of beer and a few dessert options ready on the coffee table with the remote not too far—”
“It was a big production,” Ethan interjects.
“Tell me about it.” Xander shakes his head. “I still remember it like it was yesterday.” He ponders for a few seconds before continuing. “Once the mums confirmed if we wanted to stay with our dads or follow them, they’d retreat to the kitchen to enjoy some girl chat.”
“What a coincidence. What are the odds of having an actual connection like this?” I ask, marveling at what they just shared.
“It’s incredible. Of all the shows and actors in Hollywood, it just so happens that Grayson Evanson was one of your grandmother’s celebrity clients and it just so happens that he was an idol to our fathers.” Ethan is right.
“Wow.” I shake my head, still unable to believe it. “So your parents were also best friends?” I ask.
“Our dads were. They both worked for Ford of Britain. They formed a bond the first day Ethan’s dad started,” Xander confirms.
“Our mums were close, but not best friends. Mum’s best friend was Efya Kwarasey, aka Auntie Fifi. Like Mum, she’s also from Ghana. My mum didn’t have an easy time adjusting when she first got here. She joined a social group at her church in an attempt to make new friends, since she had left her childhood ones behind. That’s how she met Efya. Since they both left Africa soon after getting married in pursuit of a new life, they shared a lot in common. To this day, they’re close sister-friends,” Ethan explains.
“My mum’s best friend is Shirley James, aka Auntie Shirley. She was Mum’s first roommate when she moved to London and then they became coworkers. When Mum got a better position at the luxury hotel where she works now, it didn’t take her long to set the wheels in motion to get Shirley in,” Xander says. “But we digress. You were saying, Delilah?”
“No, not at all. This is absolutely fascinating. I think it’s so cool that we have a six-degrees-of-separation connection.”
“It is,” Ethan agrees.
“Small world,” Xander adds.
“Well, after Grayson bought my grandma’s art, it just so happened he had the pieces mounted and displayed in his home a few weeks before a big photoshoot with People magazine. He was being featured as part of their ‘Hottest Eighties Stars—Where Are They Now?’ special edition. My grandmother’s name appeared in that article because the person who wrote it inquired about the huge piece hanging at the entrance of Grayson’s house. The second the magazine hit the stand, Grandma Paige’s career exploded. She went from being my grandma to becoming up-and-coming artist Paige Babcock.” I grin with pride. “To go back to Ethan’s question, I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised if I told you I’m my grandmother’s biggest fan.” Ethan shakes his head with a warm smile stretching his lips. “When I used to visit her I was either hanging out at the studio she had built in her backyard watching her do her thing for hours on end, or following her to different art exhibits. I became hooked. Alas, after a fair number of art classes, I realized I hadn’t inherited my grandmother’s talent. I was crushed until she suggested I remove my blinders. She told me there were many other professions in the art world that I could explore. A few Google searches and weeks of consideration later, I decided that becoming an art curator would be the next best thing for me—of course it required a little bit more digging, but initially, it did seem like something I could absolutely do and more importantly love. With my parents’ blessings, I headed to California and stayed with my grandmother while I pursued my Bachelor’s degree in History of Art from the University of California’s Berkley campus.”
“Wow. That’s quite the story,” Xander exclaims.
“It is.” Ethan seems to be equally impressed.
“I agree. My grandmother has proven that if you want something badly enough, you just have to reach out and grab it. It’s that same philosophy that prompted me to move to New York after graduating with my Masters degree under my belt. NYC is the logical choice when it comes to art. True, there is a scene in Los Angeles, but for me, it’s always been about the Big Apple. The example of Grandma Paige’s determination is also what pushed me to put my name into the hat when the owner of the gallery I used to work for in New York announced that they were doing an exchange program with a gallery in London.”
“I have to agree with you, Delilah. The LA art scene is edgy and fearless, but New York still dictates the pace in my opinion,” Ethan notes.
I nod in agreement. “May I say your grandmother sounds like a spirited woman.”
“That she is. It’s interesting because my granny on my momma’s side has always played it safe. It’s true that her husband is still alive, but in general she’s never one to color outside of the lines. She’s had the same routines for as long as my momma can remember. She does her groceries on Saturdays right after she serves my granddaddy lunch and when she gets back home she starts the preparation for the weekly Sunday family dinner. She goes to church on Sunday mornings without fail. She always sits at one of the front pews because she believes God can’t miss her when she’s that close to the priest. On Mondays she starts cleaning her house from top to bottom. She usually ends on Friday afternoons. Her place is so big that it usually takes her the entire week, but then again she doesn’t have anything else going on in her life. Then she just keeps repeating the cycle. She has dinner served at six PM sharp every night. She’s never been north of Nashville, Tennessee and she considers French toast as ethnic food. Grandma Paige is the polar opposite.”
“It sounds like you’ve inherited quite a lot from your paternal grandmother,” Ethan observes.
“Oh, I have a lot of my momma’s side in me. That said, hanging out for so many years with Grandma Paige has opened me up to what’s possible.”
“I’ve heard you talk about your cousin Maggie a few times at the gallery. From what I gather, the two of you are quite close. I’m not sure why, but I was under the impression you were an only child. That said, you just mentioned something about your father ‘putting us all in the minivan.’ It sounds like you have siblings?” Ethan inquires.
“Maggie is more than a cousin. She’s also my best friend. She’s like the sister I never had—”
“It’s like Ethan and I.” Xander smiles at me before turning to his friend.
“Exactly,” I cheer. “You’re right, Ethan. Maggie and I are tighter than most blood siblings I know.” I go into details and explain the particular relationship my parents have with Maggie’s parents. I also highlight the fact that since I’ve been born, Maggie and I have been hanging out together until we had to part ways to go to college. “To answer your question, I have five older brothers, Brandon James, Josh Michael, John Daniel, Sean Davis and Connor Landon. Of course, we all have two first names—I’m Delilah Belle. I think it’s the Southern thing to do. I went to school with some kids who had three or even four first names. That’s just a little much in my opinion.”
“In that case, I must be Southern as well because I’m Ethan Isaac. Here I thought all this time that I was African.” Ethan chuckles.
“Ditto for me, since I was born Jonathan Alexander.”
&nb
sp; I widen my eyes. “Most people I met in California and New York only had one first name. You guys just blew my theory right out of the water. There’s nothing Southern about having two first names after all.” I contort my face in a disappointed look. Ethan and Alexander laugh. “What else can I tell you about myself?” I ask, tapping my chin with my index finger, shifting my eyes to the ceiling from left to right. It’s really a rhetorical question because I’m not done sharing about my family. “Connor and I are six years apart. We’re very close. He was my rock during the traumatizing high school years—puberty is rough on some of us and figuring out boys is worse than the most complicated jigsaw puzzle. I like to call Connor my teenage boy whisperer. Without him, I doubt I would’ve been able to make it out of high school without having a nervous breakdown. I’m also really close with my eldest brother Brandon. Momma and Daddy were great parents—a little too strict, if you ask me. Overall, I had an incredible drama-free childhood.”
“You must miss your family if you have that kind of bond?”
“I do, Ethan. And I also miss Maggie. We’re always on Skype and we’re constantly texting each other, but it’s just not the same as being able to pop by her place or us meeting for drinks after work.”
“I can understand. When I’m on a business trip for an extended period of time, as much as I hate to admit it, eventually I start missing Ethan. I love that we’re able to connect in this room every morning when we’re in town,” Xander says, pointing to the floor. “When I’m traveling, it feels like my day just doesn’t start on the same foot. It’s as if the time we share together acts as a booster for my entire day.”
“You’ve never admitted to that before,” Ethan says. Visibly he’s surprised by Xander’s confession.
“Well, it’s not exactly the manliest thing to reveal. Don’t let it go to your head, mate. I’m simply sharing to sympathize with Delilah since she’s opening up about something fairly personal. Don’t expect that I’ll be telling you ‘I’ll miss you’ every time I’m about to hop on an airplane. That’s just never going to happen.” Xander crosses his arms over his chest and shoots Ethan a side glance.
“Fine. Suit yourself. See if I care,” Ethan quips.
Had it not been for the teasing smiles on their faces and the playful glee in their eyes, it might be easy to believe they’re upset at each other. Nothing could be further from the truth. These two have a great friendship.
“You two kill me.” I laugh, shaking my head. “In any case, that’s exactly the same way I feel about Maggie. Other than the people I left behind, I also miss the heat.”
“Ah, the perennial foreigner’s complaint.” Xander chuckles. “I know it might be impossible to believe, but we do have warmer and sunnier summers—this year isn’t one of them.”
“Thanks for the heads up. I thought it was Mother Nature being incredibly unjust. I love living in London, I just miss New York’s hot and humid summers so much. Don’t even get me started about Texas.”
“I would assume it’s much hotter there than it is in New York City, although Manhattan can feel like a steam room in July and August.”
“Ethan, it’s hotter than the hinges of the gates to hell in the summer in Austin.” Both Ethan and Xander crack up. “No, seriously. You can fry some eggs and bacon on the asphalt and call it breakfast. Granddaddy likes to say, ‘It’s hotter than Hades out here in the summer time.’ Air conditioning isn’t mandatory in London, but back home it’s a question of life or death.” I giggle. “Enough about me. It’s my turn to ask the questions.” The truth is I can keep talking about my family for the rest of the evening, but that would just be bad manners. My momma raised me better than that. “The two of you have said you’ve known each other since you were three. Did you meet in day care?”
“Day care?” Ethan and Alexander ask in unison.
“Sorry, I mean the nursery?”
“Ah.” Once again my two guys are in sync.
“We’ve known each since before the nursery because our dads worked together and they’d hang out on weekends,” Ethan says. “When I turned two, my parents bought their first house. When the house next door came up for sale, Mr. Emerson quickly snatched it. Since then, Xander and I have been neighbors and hence inseparable.”
“You mentioned something about your mom being from Ghana earlier. Were you born there?” I enquire.
Now that it’s their turn to talk, I can continue sipping on my wine while listening to them.
“I’m British African.” He chuckles. “I was born right here in London. My father, Vincent, is from Sierra Leone. Due to political unrest, Dad’s entire family moved to Accra, Ghana because life in Sierra Leone was a rough place for Christians. Living in a predominantly Muslim country isn’t the easiest—or safest—thing when you don’t share their values. Since my dad’s family wasn’t rich, they couldn’t afford plane tickets for a big family. They took buses from Makeni, where they lived, to Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire—”
“Côte d’Ivoire?”
“Also known as Ivory Coast.”
“I see.”
“From there they continued their journey to Ghana. It was months of traveling with babies and small children. Dad says he was six when they set out on this pilgrimage.”
“I can’t imagine leaving everything I possess behind to travel to a new country to put down roots. That must’ve been scary for them.”
“Dad always said that his own father had explained that the hope of a better life can help a man endure some of the worst conditions if it means he can lead his family to a land where they can thrive.”
“Logically, it makes sense, but still, it must have been a frightful journey,” I say.
Ethan nods. “My dad and my grandfather never talked about it. I suspect it was. There’s nothing quite like African heat. I’m certain those buses didn’t have any air conditioning and I can’t imagine how they managed to find food and secure shelter.” He pauses for a beat. “Mum and Dad met when they were kids. The school they both attended, which was extremely strict and very Christian, was divided in two—boys one side and girls on the other. That didn’t deter my father from falling in love with my mum the first time he saw her on the playground. They were sweethearts from day one.”
“That’s so adorable. Can you imagine meeting the person you’re supposed to be with at such a young age?”
“If you were to meet my parents, you’d think they were newlyweds. Nothing they go through seems to dampen their love for each other. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
That’s the kind of mutual love I’m desperately seeking. “So your parents never dated anyone else?”
Ethan shakes his head. “No, never. It’s as if they pledged their love for each other on that playground and that was it. When my dad turned nineteen, he asked my mum to be his wife. Two years after they were married, Ford of Britain had an urgent demand for skilled workers at lower wages on a contract basis. Dad was one of the top mechanics at the shop he worked for. Without hesitation, he jumped at the opportunity of a new life—he set out on the second pilgrimage of his life. He was accepted not long after applying. He converted his life savings—which wasn’t much—into pounds sterling. With the help of his family, he had enough to get them started. He packed a couple of suitcases, grabbed his bride and he left his family behind. My parents had been trying to conceive since they got married, but after three miscarriages, they gave up hope. Dad talked about adoption. Mum wouldn’t hear of it. Eight months after moving to London, Mom fainted on the Tube on her way to work. When Dad rushed to the hospital to be by her side, he found out he would soon be a father—she was two months pregnant. After they had me, they kept trying for more kids, but it never happened. They were grateful God gave them at least one child of their own.”
“Wow.” I widen my eyes, soaking in everything he’s just said. “And you say my life is fascinating. Puh-lease. Yours is far more exciting. I’ve never been to Africa. To be honest, I haven’t travel
ed much outside of the US—and there are tons of states I’ve never visited. I still haven’t set foot in Canada. Maggie and I wanted to go to Mexico for spring break, but our moms were absolutely against sending two young women to party central where they could be the prey of young, inebriated, horny boys.” I laugh. “This is my first journey across the Atlantic. In fact, until a couple months ago, I didn’t even have a passport.”
“I’ll have to take you to Ghana some day. I bought my parents and I some land there. I had beautiful houses built. It’s a great place to get away from it all. Xander has been there many times and each time it’s a struggle to convince him to come back to London.” Ethan chuckles.
“Beautiful?” Xander’s eyes widen. “You built a freaking palace, mate. Your house is majestic. I do agree though, I’m sure Delilah would love it there.”
“We should make it a point to go. It’s definitely going to be as hot as the hinges of the gates of hell…” Ethan pauses and shoots me a complicit look since he’s just borrowed my words. I can’t help but laugh. He does the same. “That said, it’s well worth it even with the smoldering heat. You’ll come back to London rejuvenated and you’ll have seen the sun. I’m certain when you’re sporting a tan, your blue eyes look like gems.” His words make me flush. “I’m looking forward to seeing that, love.”
“Are you joking?” I thought he was just saying that in passing, but it doesn’t sound like it.
Ethan shakes his head. “No, not at all. I’d love to take you to my parents’ homeland.”
“I… I’d love to go,” I answer in a hesitant voice. It’s not that I don’t want to discover another part of this world, it’s just that I’m a little surprised we’re making plans for the future. I thought what we share would be short-lived.
“That’s a brilliant idea.” Xander claps his hands together. “After all of these exhausting business trips, I absolutely welcome a vacation. The three of us in Ghana will be unforgettable.”
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