Page 56 of The Protection Agreement

Looking at me, Jola’s eyes hold the unspoken question: 'Is it safe?' “I got you, Sprinkles,” I say to reassure her. Ice is right behind my dad. I leave the bags for now and follow Dad and Ice inside with Jola.

We get in, and Jola looks around the two-story home, with pictures all over, a mix of wood and fabric furniture and hardwood flooring. The family room has Dad’s big TV encased in a shelf with pictures and books.

“Sit, sit,” Dad says. “I need to get something. I’ll be right back.” he hurriedly say

He goes upstairs. Jola and I take a seat on my dad’s old sofa, which he has adamantly refused to let me change. Ice is relaxed on the recliner. Jola is quiet and a bit nervous. I don’t know how to explain my dad’s intense, transfixed stare at Jola.

We hear Dad’s footsteps coming down. Jola is alert as she moves closer to me. She’s trying to meld her body to mine. He comes to the living room with a picture in his hand and pulls the wooden center table, sits on it, and faces Jola.

“I’m sorry if I stared at you for too long.” She nods. “It was as if I’d seen a ghost,” he says. “Are you Eni’s daughter? Because, if you are not, then that would be even more shocking,” he says rapidly and proffers the picture to her. She removes her hand from mine and takes the picture. I’m now the one staring at my dad, gobsmacked.

“That’s my mom,” she chokes, her voice breaks as she looks at him. Dad is flabbergasted; a wide smile breaks on his face. “Is that you, standing next to her?” she asks. He nods. He clasps her hand in his.

“I’m so happy to meet you, my dear,” he says, his eyes glassy. Ice and I are looking at each other, surprised. “May I hug you, my dear?”

“Yes,” she says and gives my dad a hug. I pick up the picture and look at it. Yep, it’s a darker-looking version of Jola standing next to my dad. I hand the picture to Ice; he looks eager to see it. His eyes widen at how uncanny Jola and her mom are. Dad and Jola pull from the hug, and I can’t wait to find out how my dad knows Jola’s mom.

“What’s your name?” he asks. “Alexis Doherty.”

“You took her last name,” he says to her, and she nods. “She told me your Yoruba name would start with a J.”

“Jola-ade,” she says.

Dad claps in excitement. He gets up, takes her hand, and pulls her up with him.

“Come, come,” he says, all excited. “I made Bruce’s favorite, I didn’t know you’ll be coming.” We are now in his kitchen and he’s all over the place. He wants to make a meal for Jola. “What do you like, my dear?” He moves around. I’ve never seen him this excited. He’s most times borderline a grump, but today, excess excitement is flowing out of him.

“Whatever you made for Bruce is fine,” she says. I hear her relaxed tone. Ice and I are still looking at my dad, lost.

“Okay. Sit, my dear.” She takes a seat and I sit next to her. Ice looks my way, his brows raised, and I shrug. No clue what’s going on with Dad here.

Jola gets up and helps Dad set the table. He seems happy. He brings out the mashed potato with roast beef and grilled carrots. The sweet aroma of the roast beef fills my nostrils. This is certainly my favorite meal, and my dad makes the best. We all eat as he asks Jola more questions about her mom. I know she likes to talk about her mom, except how her mom died. She answers his questions and laughs with him. Ice and I are now like two extra strangers at this table, watching my dad completely energized in a way I’d never seen before as he listens to Jola talk about her mom.

“Do you like puzzles?” Dad asks out of the blue. Ice and I look at each other again. Jola nods, a sheepish smile graces her face.

“Like is an understatement; obsessed is more like it,” Ice says. She playfully scowls at him.

“You are truly Eni’s daughter.” He grins. “She gave me a box a long time ago. Maybe you and I can put it together while you are here,” he says, surprising me.

“That would be great.” She cheerfully says

I see how happy she looks. She’s relaxed and comfortable.

“Are you a doctor too?” Dad asks

“No, I’m a data scientist.”

“I’m surprised Eni didn’t convince you to become a doctor,” he states, and truly looks surprised.

“She tried, but I can’t stand the sight of blood. I followed a different science,” she answers.

“Do you like being a data scientist?”

“Again, like is an understatement for her,” Ice chimes in, and she sends him a teasing glare and leans to me. Her way of telling me she’s good. I always welcome it.

Chapter thirty-five

Lexi/Jola