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  "This might just be a phase," Uncle Ige said.

  The hope that had built came crashing down. Motherfucker. He should have known that a leopard didn't change its spots.

  "All young boys have done it in the past," Uncle Ige continued, with that condescending tone that made Bola want to scream at him. "Think about it. If we lived in the North, it's something he would have experimented with and gotten out of his system. Besides, there's still that fourteen years jail term…" The tone shifted. Went from being condescending to just a bit threatening, and Bola's back went ramrod straight. Even his sisters changed their stance, and his mother lost the worrying look for just a moment to glare at Uncle Ige. Uncle Ige paid no attention to any of them. Just went right on talking to his brother, who was listening to him as intently as humanly possible. "And I'm sure Bola wouldn't want to lose all his fans." At that point, he deigned to give Bola a pointed look, and Bola glared right back at him. A corner of Uncle Ige's mouth twitched, but he continued talking. "Give it time. He will come around."

  "And if he doesn't?" his father growled.

  "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," his mother interrupted, the only words she'd said since she greeted Bola at the door. She inclined her head at him and walked up to her husband, wrapping her hands around his waist. That threw Adegoke Johnson off. Matter of fact, it threw all of them off. Olusola Johnson was not someone given to such displays, neither was her husband. It was her own way of keeping her son safe, mediating in the situation and Bola felt grateful. Pissed that all this needed to be done just so he could be allowed to be with the person he might maybe love, in the presence of his family.

  His father said nothing in reply. Just grunted and covered his mother's hands with his. He turned around, laid a kiss on her forward, and walked out of the living room without bothering to look backwards at any of them. They heard his footsteps fade and Bola breathed out.

  "Well then, hope to see you around," Uncle Ige said, sounding as cheery as he could possibly could. He narrowed his eyes at Ukeme. "Hopefully, not you," he added and walked right out.

  Good riddance.

  His mother stepped to him, kissed the side of his mouth, stretched out her hand to Ukeme, who accepted it, looking like he'd been flummoxed—the poor guy. She smiled, withdrew her hand back, and walked away, just as silent as her husband had just moments before.

  Bola's knees buckled, and he fell back on the couch, placing his head right in between his legs. Deep breaths. In and out.

  He felt Ukeme's hands rub his back, travel to his neck and slide right back, smoothing away the tension and calming him down. How ironic. The person who needed that comfort was the boyfriend he'd brought into a minefield, a boyfriend who his uncle had just sort of threatened to have thrown in jail, a boyfriend his father could just as easily toss in jail. Yet, he was the one receiving the comfort from said boyfriend.

  It was the thought that brought his head back up and he wrapped his arms around Ukeme, working his way around the couch so he could pull it off even with both of them sitting up. "'m sorry," he whispered against Ukeme's neck. "Thank you."

  "Bloody hell," Sukanmi squeaked and slumped against Tinu, who stepped away and he tumbled to the floor.

  Sukanmi yelped and pushed himself off the floor, dusting his smarting ass as he glared at Tinu, who ignored him in favor for Ukeme. "Are you okay?" she said and gestured at the cut on Ukeme's cheek. "Sometimes, I think dad wears all those rings just so he can cause as much damage as possible when he's hitting people."

  "Agree," everyone said and laughed.

  Bola noticed Ukeme's wince though, and swung his arm over Ukeme's shoulder. "Well, this turned out better than I'd have expected." When everyone gave him a stink eye, he laughed. The effort reminded him that Ukeme was not the only person who had received the full brunt of his father's fist and he winced. "Okay. But think of it this way. None of us is disowned…"

  "Not like we need his money," Debs mumbled under her breath.

  "That's what he gets for pushing all of us to make as much of our own money as we can," Deji added, just a bit louder than Debs had spoken.

  "Getting kicked out of the will wouldn't be so bad," Tinu had to add her own two cents.

  "Yeah. But nothing wrong with still having more money than you can dream," Ukeme said dryly.

  The Johnson siblings and Sukanmi looked at each other and burst out laughing. Ukeme joined them, chuckling low. Bola reached over to kiss his lips, working them gently, so as not to hurt them anymore than they already were. "Your place or mine?" he whispered against Ukeme's lips.

  He felt those lips move against his, curving into a smile. "Anywhere that would have you right there with me."

  "Same here, babe. Same here."

  chapter thirteen

  A week later and it was Bola's turn to be holding so tightly onto Ukeme's fingers, Ukeme felt like all circulation was being cut off his hand. He covered Bola's hands with his and rubbed across the edge of his palm, the circular motions that he'd known to work on his boyfriend.

  It worked.

  He felt when Bola sighed and let go of the tension with each exhale. His hands breathed in relief as Bola let up on the pressure.

  "There's nothing to fear in there," he said teasingly, saying the exact same words Bola had told him a week before when they'd been standing outside of his family home, about to meet the Johnsons.

  It worked. Bola snorted and glared at him.

  That was the look he wanted to see on his man's face. Those aristocratic features should never be creased with worry or that inherent fear of him about to meet people that would not find him as amazing as Ukeme did.

  "You'll do great," Ukeme told him.

  "And if they don't like me? What if they see me, and all they can see is my father? What if all they can see me is destroyed landscape and a black ocean?"

  Bola sounded spooked, so Ukeme pulled him into a hug. His boyfriend came into his arms with no resistance and melted against him.

  "They wouldn't see that. They would see Blaze: the entertainer whose music reminds them of forgotten times. They will see Bola, a man who works to create a life for himself outside of what his father does for a living," Ukeme said.

  "And they wouldn't think, if only Bola had a vagina and boobs and could bear children, he would be the perfect bride," Bola said in a low voice.

  Ukeme chuckled. "Of course they would. They're not saints, you know."

  He yelped when that got him a pinch on his side and chuckled. He kissed Bola's forehead and let his lips stay there, breathing in Bola's scent—that mixture of man, sweat, and Clive Christian cologne. "They will like you. If they don't, we'll deal with it."

  Bola gave a long, drawn-out sigh and then pulled back to look Ukeme in the face. The mischievous smile that spread across his face came as both a relief and a warning. "At least there shall be no threats of having us thrown in jail," Bola said cheekily.

  Ukeme snorted and motioned at Bola to follow him. "Only the truly rich will use that as a threat against their children. My parents can't really afford to make that threat."

  "Thought your sister was handling all their finances?" Bola said and jumped over a broken stoop. "You know, with you being a broke writer and all."

  "Ima would just as easily cut them off if they have me tossed in jail." He shrugged. "Let's call it her way of protesting."

  "Your sister sounds amazing," Bola said.

  "It's an assessment I've been trying to tell the whole world for a long time," Ukeme said.

  Bola chuckled. "Maybe you should write it in a book." He grabbed Ukeme's arm and pointed to a billy goat tied to the orange tree in their courtyard. "You have a goat. So cute."

  Ukeme snorted and nudged Bola along. "Strange, the things you rich people find fascinating."

  Bola snorted right along with me. "Tell me about it. It would be enough to fill a book."

  Ukeme stumbled to a stop and Bola crashed right into his back.

  Shit. He
'd forgotten all about Elizabeth. He'd spent the last couple of weeks ignoring her calls and texts and any reminder that at one point in time, he had considered, even if only for a day, writing some expose on his relationship with Bola and all the things he'd been feeling at that point in time. Hell, he'd even written five chapters of the damn book.

  "What's wrong?"

  Bola's voice snapped him back to reality, and he stared into those brown eyes that were, at the moment, looking at him with worry.

  "It's nothing," Ukeme said.

  Bola's eyes narrowed.

  Uh-oh.

  "You honestly can't expect me to buy that," Bola said. "Something's obviously bothering you."

  They caught one of the curtains shifting and Bola cleared his throat. "You know what? Let's agree to talk about it when we get home and just focus on getting through this meeting for today. What do you think?"

  Later that night. Short time, but it at least gave him some time to think about exactly how he was going to break the news.

  The net door swung open and Ima's rotund figure filled the doorway. She was beaming, which was a good sign—a very good sign—as she welcomed Bola with a hug. She motioned for him to go on ahead after she was done hugging him and whispered to Ukeme as he passed by her, "Mum and Dad are in the living. Dad's halfway through with his bottle of dry gin."

  That was not a good sign.

  *~*~*

  "Mr. and Mrs. Ukeme. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

  Ukeme resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the incredulous expression on his parents' faces as they gaped at Bola's prostrating form.

  His sister didn't bother holding it in, though. She sniggered and turned it into a quick cough, so as not to rouse suspicion. Ukeme knew though that even if she had laughed aloud, his parents wouldn't have heard anything. What with the way they were gaping at Bola, who still hadn't gotten off from the ground.

  Bola kept his eyes straight down on the floor, so there was no way Ukeme could signal to him to get the linen clothes he'd bought just for the occasion, off the floor.

  His parents, though, could see him quite well, and his mother pointed at Bola's form and mouthed the words, "What is he waiting for?"

  "For you to tell him 'thank you' and that he can get back up," Ukeme mouthed back to her.

  "Thank you. Please stand up," his mother said, and Bola did just that.

  Just like Ukeme had figured, the front of Bola's shirt and trousers were stained with dirt. Bola didn't look like he cared though. He was beaming widely, in that infectious way of his, where both his dimples made their reappearance.

  His mother smiled right back. His father scowled, then cleared his throat. "What can we do for you, young man?"

  "Well, I…" Bola started to say.

  "You're the musician, aren't you?" his mother beamed. "I like your songs."

  "Stupid songs that children nowadays call music," his father mumbled, not bothering to lower his voice.

  Bola chuckled. "I know. My mum is always complaining that I should sing real songs and not just everyday, popular music."

  Ukeme's father's eyes sharpened at the words. "And you're a Johnson."

  It wasn't a question.

  "Yes, I am," Bola answered. It wasn't an apology.

  They stood like that, staring at each other. Bola Johnson and Itua Collins. Neither blinking. Neither backing down.

  Finally, his father cracked a smile. And when that happened, it was like someone had released the floodgates. His father bent over and slapped his hands on his thighs, laughing so hard that Ukeme thought he heard bones creak.

  He glanced at Ima. She shrugged.

  He glanced at his mother. She was gaping at her husband, who was laughing like a loon.

  Bola looked like he wasn't sure what the best response was to the situation.

  That made both of them.

  Finally, his father stopped laughing and started shaking his head, amidst chuckles. "I like you. I really like you."

  Ukeme glanced at Bola, who stared right back at him, looking just as confused as he was. They both turned to look at Ukeme's father, who gestured at the other available chair, and indicated that Bola should sit. "My son. Have a seat."

  My son?

  Bola took the seat, not looking half as apprehensive as Ukeme would have expected him to. But then again, he didn't know Itua Collins as well as Ukeme did.

  "Dad," Ukeme said and took the space right beside Bola on the wicker chair. He grabbed a hold of Bola's hand, and although Bola jumped at the sudden contact, he didn't pull away. "Didn't you hear me the first time? Bola's my boyfriend. Not a friend that's a boy. My boyfriend."

  His father made a gesture to his mother and she moved to the glass-covered cabinets, rummaged in it for a short while, and came back out with a tobacco pipe and some tobacco wrapped in a bag. His father shuffled some into his pipe, lit it, and inhaled deeply, then pushed the smoke back out in a long gust of air.

  "Obviously, you're not talking to me," his father said with his voice half-throaty, half-hacking. "There's no way you would be implying that I'm deaf and I didn't hear you the first time you said it. Unless, you are saying I'm daft and couldn't figure it out the first time. Tell me, Ukeme Samuel Collins, which one is it? Are you calling me daft or deaf?"

  Ukeme dropped his head and inclined it even further. "I'm sorry, dad."

  His father hissed. "How long have you and my son been seeing each other?"

  This question, coming from a man, who, for the last five years since he'd come out to his parents, had never expressed any interest in who he was fucking. Maybe some deep-rooted need to not know exactly how his son's love life was going, so he could continue to live in denial?

  Bola gave his hand a quick squeeze. "About two months now. Give or take."

  His father puffed some more on his pipe and coughed.

  That was his cue.

  Ukeme got off from the chair and walked to the pack of bottled Eva water that his father kept in the living room for that purpose. He reached for one of the clean glasses on the center table and poured his father a glass of water. He handed his father both the glass and the bottle and went back to take his seat.

  "Have you shared this good news with your parents?" his father asked after he'd taken a couple of mouthfuls of water.

  Bola nodded.

  That got his father laughing all over again, complete with a headshake. He turned to his wife. "I swear. The things I've heard in this life. Our son, Ekene. Our son is sleeping with Johnson's son."

  Another round of laughter followed.

  "Kai. Your father must be spitting mad," Ukeme's father said with a smile. He leaned forward in his seat. "He's mad, abi? Pissed out of his mind, right?"

  Ukeme caught Bola's confused expression from the corner of his eye and then Bola nodded, and followed it with a, "Yes, Sir."

  "How mad is he? Did he threaten to disown you? Have our Ukeme arrested?"

  This conversation was not going in any direction Ukeme had foreseen it going. He looked at Ima, who hadn't as much as budged from her seat on the chair right by the door. She was smiling. A big, happy grin that said this was going to end well, and he wouldn't be without parents after this whole ordeal was over.

  But at what cost? The price of his father losing his mind?

  "You think I'm crazy, don't you?" his father said, and brought Ukeme's mind back to the conversation. He opened his mouth to apologize for being so rude, when his father continued speaking to Bola. Not him. "It's just, I never thought I would live to see the day when Adegoke Johnson would be at my mercy. He's probably in his mansion on Banana Island, praying and hoping that I would put my feet down and insist neither of you date. But then, he doesn't know that Ukeme has told us about his…" his father searched for a word, "proclivities. That's the word right? Proclivities?" He directed the question and when Ukeme nodded, he continued right on speaking. "Good. His proclivities for people of his same-sex. If prayer could help, all the prayer
my Ekene's done for him would have amounted to something. Now, we can't do anything but pray that Jehovah keep his soul, and he doesn't come in contact with anybody who would want to hurt him. Or am I wrong, Ekene?"

  "Everything you have said is true," Ukeme's mother answered.

  His father nodded. "And anyway, Ima is over there, dropping children like they're flies."

  "Daddy!" Ima shouted, and it was Ukeme's turn to turn a laugh into a grunt. He felt his sister's eyes digging a hole into his back, though, meaning he probably hadn't succeeded as well as he'd thought.

  "Wetin? I lie?" He made a clicking sound with his tongue and jerked his thumb in Ima's direction. "That's her sixth one. Her husband's an idiot, but she's a good girl. And all the kids bear our name, which is all I need, anyway. Your father can make all the noise he wants, but," Ukeme's father's eyes twinkled. "Ukeme's the one you've chosen and that's that. You're welcome to our family, Bola Johnson. Your father might be one of the richest men in the world, but he is an idiot if he cannot appreciate a son as smart and dedicated and talented as you are." He wagged his finger and chuckled at Bola's surprised expression. "You thought I don't listen to your kind of music, don't you? But I do. You have a good sound. Reminds me of artists long passed. People don't sing like they did anymore." He smiled. "But you do. Am I right, Ekene?"

  Ukeme's mother nodded.

  "Just treat him right. Ukeme can be a bit stubborn, but he's a got a good heart. And I hope the two of you stay happy together." With that said, he leaned back into his seat with a satisfied air, looking mighty pleased with himself. Not like Ukeme would let everything go just like that.

  "Wait a minute. That's it? I have to suffer when I went to his parents' house and you're all okay with our relationship?"

  He yelped when he felt Bola pinch his thigh. "Ow. What was that for?"

  "Your boyfriend's complaining about the fact that you're being an idiot. You have an all-access pass and yet here you are, talking nonsense. Ungrateful boy." His father smirked.

  "I'm not ungrateful. I'm just wondering why you're suddenly so happy that I'm with the son of a man you have hated for as long as I've been on this earth. What changed?" Ukeme said.