Page 17 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Chapter Eight

Robyn

Robyn Stewart gritted her teeth just a bit as she opened the passenger-side doors of the mini SUV for her daughter, Mia, as they went about their set morning routine.

The back seat was to place her school bag, and then the front was to place herself—a uniform-clad eleven-year-old, the preteen combination of Robyn and Harper, from her neat cornrow braids to her gangly cocoa-colored legs shining with shea butter.

“Do you have your assignments?” Robyn asked. “Did you remember the lunch I packed?”

“Uh-huh,” Mia’s little face beamed with big-girl pride.

Her bright smile was only outshone by the sun above Accra, bathing them in a blanketing heat that Robyn still found more intense than what she’d ever experienced in the States, even in the South.

The sun felt closer here somehow, a welcoming presence, but also, it was one more new thing to get used to over the years. It hadn’t been easy. Not at all.

“Belt yourself,” Robyn said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. Just as she’d secured her own belt and started the vehicle, Robyn’s phone rang from her purse in the back seat. She could hear it, but she wasn’t pressed.

“Mommy, it’s your phone.”

“I know. I hear it.”

“You gotta answer it before it goes away,” Mia protested as if the urgency was life or death.

“The voicemail will get it, Mia.”

“It might be important. I’ll find it,” Mia contorted her body toward the source of the ringing.

“Do not undo your seatbelt, young lady…” Robyn admonished, alternating her gaze between the road and her daughter, who had managed to do a complete one-eighty in her seat and was now rummaging through her momma’s stuff, causing several items to rain onto the floor.

“Mia…” Robyn said, annoyed. “Come on, baby. You’re making a mess…”

“It’s Daddy!” Mia announced with a smile.

The light glimmered in her eyes. Her hand emerged with the cellphone like a trophy.

Sure enough, Robyn glanced to see Harper’s face illuminating the screen.

She released a small sigh of relief. Better that it was Harper than Aboagye again, whom she’d been avoiding.

“Answer it,” Robyn said, exhaling as she maneuvered the vehicle out of the driveway.

“Good morning, Mimi,” Harper’s voice boomed through the car speakers.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, Mom.

“Hi.” Robyn responded pleasantly, although she wasn’t really in the mood to chat.

Why is he calling on my phone? she wondered.

Mia had her own, and Harper had made sure his little girl had one that was top of the line.

Overcompensating as usual. So he should’ve used it.

Though as soon as Harper spoke, she remembered why he hadn’t.

“Yeah, I tried Mia’s phone but it went straight to voicemail.” Mia looked at Robyn with childlike guilt. Robyn didn’t flinch.

“Tell him.”

Mia looked away from her mom and out the window.

“Tell me what?”

“Well, when Ms. Mia came back from her extended trip with you, it was quite the back-and-forth we had about phone screen time.”

“Oh. I see,” Harper responded flatly.

“So, your daughter had her phone taken away from her for the next few days.”

Mia sighed audibly.

“When is she getting it back?”

“When her mom thinks it’s appropriate.”

“She’s not going to have it at school?”

“No, Harper. They don’t allow that here.”

“What if there’s an emergency?”

“Then the school will call and let me know what’s happening. Remember like when you and I were growing up?”

“Robyn, come on, it’s not the same—”

Robyn cut him off. “Mia knows the rules, don’t you, Mia?”

“Yes,” Mia said under her breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. And I’m sure your dad didn’t either.”

“Yes. I know,” Mia responded with extra spice and sauce.

“It’s okay, baby.” Harper’s reassurance rang out through the car’s speakers. “I know that phone is tempting but try to do what Mommy says, okay?”

Try? Robyn thought. Thanks for the support, Dad.

Since Mia had gotten that phone Robyn made sure her daughter’s screen time was limited to an hour a day (including FaceTiming her dad).

Two hours on the weekend. “The world isn’t in your phone, baby.

It’s all around you,” Robyn would remind her daughter often.

It was her dad’s gift, but Mom’s rules would be enforced.

And Harper unexpectedly extending Mia’s last trip to New York hadn’t helped.

It certainly made Mia happy (and likely Harper as well), but it didn’t make her return easier.

Robyn thought she and Harper had established a good rhythm and a healthy respect, but of course Harper’s lack of structure had introduced a lack of structure to Mia that simply continued even now, well past the time to get back to business.

Mia loved her dad and missed him. She was no longer a little girl who worshipped her momma.

She was a precocious eleven-year-old with her own thoughts and ideas and the often accompanying three letter word “why.” It was exhausting explaining parenting decisions to a mini-me.

Robyn didn’t employ the “because I said so” reason very often, but oh had she been tempted.

While Mia chatted with Harper, Robyn navigated the dense Accra rush-hour traffic through the affluent Cantonments neighborhood of the British International School, regarded as the best school in the city, where Mia was enrolled in the sixth grade.

Harper’s money was good for many things and Robyn was thankful.

Mia filled her dad in about school, classes, her homework, and what she was excited about for the day. Art class for sure. She always loved to use her creativity. “Et je parle francais,” Mia said in her little girl version of a French accent.

“Très bien!” Harper replied through the speakers.

Robyn had to smile at that. Surely, those were the only French words he knew.

And Mia’s laughter was contagious. Their rapport was pure joy to witness, despite the distance.

A world away, as it needed to be. She was so happy that Mia was learning, expanding her horizons.

She was going to be a true citizen of the world, with dual citizenship and options.

The number of expats—more lovingly known as “returnees”—was growing rapidly in Accra.

They were returning from all over the world: the United Kingdom, the Caribbean, and just like them, America.

It was simultaneously an escape from the toxicity of white supremacy and a return to home.

America, that place…just wasn’t for them anymore.

Robyn loved that her little girl would get to grow up never knowing some of the cruelties she’d otherwise face.

Robyn saw the writing on the wall long before the results of the last United States presidential election.

She had no more interest in fighting in a land that didn’t want her.

She didn’t even watch much of the news other than the BBC and what came on her social media feed.

It was a relief to be away from the constant barrage of conflict and discord.

What a mess. No, instead, Robyn relished the ability to keep her spirit clean and her mind focused on Mia, on her business, and her healing.

The drive passed quickly enough, even with the traffic, and by the time they arrived, there were still a considerable number of other brown-skinned children in their identical uniforms milling about at the school facade, making their way through the entrance.

“Don’t forget your lunch,” Robyn reminded Mia, satisfied to see her daughter scramble for her bag, and instantly felt that familiar pang of imminent separation, of missing her even before she was gone.

The ache of love and the relief too, of having fulfilled her biggest responsibility of the day, both flowed through Robyn.

Now it was her time to take on the rest of her own concerns that she’d been holding at bay.

“Have a great day, Mimi.” Robyn kissed her before she exited the car. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mommy. Bye, Daddy. I love you.” Mia looked into her mom’s phone.

“Love you too, baby,” Harper’s gravelly voice responded. “Call me if you need me. That is, when your mom gives your phone back.”

“K. Here you go, Mommy.” Mia handed Robyn’s phone back to her before running off to catch up with her good friend, Mawusi.

Mawusi was the daughter of Haniah, Robyn’s de facto sous chef, guide, partner in business, sister in crisis.

They’d met during Robyn’s initial visit to Accra, when the Mindinu Organization recruited her for the Nomadic Dining Experience that essentially changed her life.

Now their daughters were besties. Robyn dropped the phone in the passenger seat before putting the vehicle in drive and taking off.

“Was that last part necessary?” Robyn declared.

“What? I just wanted her to know she can call me anytime.”

“The dig wasn’t necessary, but okay.” It wasn’t worth an argument.

After a pause, Robyn decided to reset the energy between them.

“Well…how’s it going, Harper?” she asked.

Small talk really wasn’t her thing in the mornings, particularly with her ex-husband, but she wanted their call to end quickly and on a positive note.

This was supposed to be the start of Robyn’s “me time” and every second was valuable, especially today. She had…plans.

“Fine,” Harper swore. “I’m a little behind on my deadline, but…”

“You’ll get it done. You always do.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just this new form of writing screenplays is a little restrictive….”

“Well, structure is good, right? Maybe it’ll help to be more succinct, efficient—” Robyn cut herself off. She was doing it again: helping Harper problem-solve, giving encouragement. Not this, Robyn, she counseled herself. It’s not your job to solve Harper’s problems. Not anymore. Just listen.