Page 42 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Chapter Twenty-two

Robyn

Robyn sat up in an easy position on her yoga mat after her restorative Savasana pose.

Along with the other class attendees, with her hands at prayer over her heart center, she saluted Thema, who’d concluded the class with namaste—peace onto you.

Robyn had had to forgo Labadi Beach this morning, so this was her time of recentering.

After a weekend of poring over details at Robyn’s Nest, of Ghanaian-Caribbean and Black American fusion cooking that included four shifts, and yesterday’s Sunday brunch, she needed some restorative energy.

Robyn also needed to not taste any “elevated” food for at least a day.

Instead, she had a taste for simplicity and would have killed for a basic PB&J.

She settled for a Ghanaian staple instead, kofi brokeman—a roasted plantain and peanut street food that a local vendor wrapped up for Robyn to snack on en route to Thema’s Kokrobite beachside compound.

Robyn was fairly well settled into Ghanaian life, but life was still lifing for sure.

Since the restaurant was closed this and every Monday, today was her day to regroup and recalculate, to try to find enough mental footing to keep her head above water.

The bills kept coming—Mia’s school, the mortgage, the water supply, the staff, the fresh food, and of course the rent.

Besides the steady stream of bill collectors, coming one after another with their hands out, threatening to take some other essential away, the interest rates were astronomically high for a returnee.

Welcome home …but you still gotta pay (and pay much more).

Nothing was as easy as it had seemed on the other side of the ocean when she’d first decided to come to Ghana.

Robyn sighed as she returned her consciousness to her present moment—the complexities and tarnish on her silver linings.

“He’s married,” Robyn said to Thema. They sat side by side in the beachside café sharing a pot of chamomile tea in cups with lemon and honey sourced from the compound.

Thema cocked her head in a fleeting look of confusion.

“Technically,” she corrected. “He and his wife are separated. So, they’re not together. ”

“I see. So why does this concern you?” Thema looked squarely at Robyn as she sipped her tea.

“Look, I know I’m coming to this with my Western glasses on, but Ghanaian men do have a reputation.” Robyn referred to the rampant rumor that the men of Ghana juggled, even flaunted, multiple girlfriends, even the married ones. “The more successful the man, the more women.”

“American women have a reputation too,” Thema returned. “Does that mean we should believe them all?”

“No, but I don’t want to be played, Thema. I don’t want to share,” Robyn admitted. “I did enough of that in my last marriage.”

“Your last husband had another woman?” Thema inquired. Jordan’s face popped into Robyn’s mind and she exhaled.

“I don’t know that anything physical happened, but there was definitely an affair of the heart that was outside of my marriage,” Robyn said. “And I made space for it. I don’t think that was good for me.”

“What do you see in Kwesi?” Thema asked. “Why spend time with him?”

Robyn couldn’t help but smile when she thought of him, even despite her misgivings. “He’s beautiful, he’s kind, he’s thoughtful. He seems to care about me, about Mia. He makes me feel special.” Thema nodded. Robyn rolled her eyes as her face flushed. “I sound stupid.”

“You sound like you’re in love.” Thema said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Robyn mused, “I might be, but my eyes are open this time.”

“And what do they see?”

“Possible heartbreak. I don’t want that. I can’t afford it.” Robyn shook her head. “Not now.” Especially not now, Robyn thought, remembering the weight of the other obligations she carried. There wasn’t enough of her to go around, and definitely not as the walking wounded.

“Robyn, what is it that you want from this man?”

“How about somebody else meet me halfway for a change? Maybe just a little reciprocity? And at the same time, I don’t want to have to rely on anybody. I’m strong enough to make it on my own. I have to be. I’m responsible for me. And Mia.”

“I understand, Robyn. I believe you will find love again. The way that serves you best.”

“Serves me best. That would be good for a change.”

“Men will always do what they want. So will women. We cannot be all things for our partners. Do you really think he will satisfy your every need? Your every whim? Your passion? Can you fulfill his?” Thema asked. “What you want is respect, Robyn.”

Robyn considered her words and shrugged in agreement, although she was still doubtful. Thema seemed to knowit.

“Hopefully you find the man who wants what you want. This man sounds like he’s got a lot of responsibilities to handle,” Thema opined.

Those words grated Robyn slightly. She bristled. “So do I.” Her tone was defiant.

“Yes. And you’re both coming to this relationship with more than just yourselves—your business, your family, your home, you… most important, you.” She waited until Robyn’s eyes met hers. “He’s got the same, yet he’s making time for you. Why is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You’re not ordinary, Robyn.

There are plenty of women, but who is he making time for?

You. Why? So he can sleep with you? So he can get a taste of your special stuff?

To put another notch in his belt? I don’t think so.

He wants you. He knows who you are and what you want. But do you know?”

“Do I know what?”

“Do you know what you want?”

Robyn paused for a moment to consider the question.

She looked around at her surroundings—the lush greenery, the peaceful salt water crashing on the shore in the distance, and the air of serenity—and that made Robyn feel settled and grounded.

This was the Ghana she wanted. This was what she’d imagined.

But this peace was fleeting because soon she would have to pick up Mia, prepare for tomorrow’s menu, and pray for the rain to stay away.

Being settled and grounded unfortunately wasn’t going to pay bills.

“I know what I don’t want,” she declared.

It was all she could muster as an answer.

Time was short. She rose, thanked Thema for the tea and the talk, and left to battle the impending Accra traffic.