Kanyin
This is the most energy in the manor since we moved in. Dad has been working from home since the death of the Williams, his parental instincts kicking in when he realized how unsafe Lẹ́kò can really be. He, however, did go out to buy a navy blue tuxedo for Kola when he realized Kola was actually attending the dance and not bluffing.
After about two hours of dyeing and retwisting Kola's hair, I still can't believe he's wearing a rib-knit beanie over them. He's dressed in a two-piece tuxedo as I fix his tie knot by holding the narrow end and pushing it up towards his collar until it's tightened and positioned properly.
"There, perfect," I state, smoothing and straightening the tie for the last time.
Mom is missing Kola's first attempt at willingly attending a social gathering, and I can't imagine how proud she would be if she could see him. He never enjoys dressing up or looking good, but it seems like that's all he has prioritized right now.
"Come here," Dad orders Kola, holding up a black and blue bottle of his Dior Sauvage.
As Kola stands before him, Dad gives a light spritz on the front and back of Kola's neck before spraying a small amount on his wrist.
Kola gently dabs his wrist together. "Thanks for being here, Dad," he says with appreciation staring up at him.
Dad chuckles, his bearded face expanding and cheeks creasing. "My little man is breaking out of his shell. I wouldn't choose to be anywhere else," he admits, giving Kola a light pat on his back.
Kola returns to his room to add some finishing touches while Dad also picks up a call. Some minutes later, Deb walks into the living room in an off-shoulder Cami dress that hugs her splendid hourglass curves. She's a chaperone today, and according to her, she's hoping to catch the eyes of single Iroko teachers that are ready to mingle.
"You look amazing," I compliment as she sashays towards me, hips swaying wherever her blonde braids go.
She halts abruptly, staring at my baggy black sweatshirt that reaches my knees.
"I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you aren't going to be there," she says again.
This is like the third time she's brought this up, and I know she will try to convince me once more like the first three times, but Dad interrupts her, stepping into the room with a confused mask on his face.
"Any updates on Mom?" I ask, standing.
He shakes his head. "No...There's a girl at the door who's asking to see you. But she says she isn't your friend, which is kind of awkward for me because why is she here?" Dad rambles as I stroll towards the large door.
Due to how tall she is, my eyes find her long dark legs first. My gaze slowly moves up as I take in Yvonne dressed in a beautiful green Ankara print dress styled with green strappy heels, adorned with every gold accessory in existence, from rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings, while she clutches her Prada purse. This is perfection, personified. Her dark skin is glowing exclaiming that she's well moisturized, just how I like it—no ash in sight. I'm not her biggest fan, but people need to take notes from her.
"Kola isn't ready yet. I heard he told you seven thirty... it's just seven," I remind her cautiously.
She smacks her very glossy lips together before gesturing to her ginger curls, which are in an afro, just how she styles it.
YOU ARE READING
The Soles Of Damini Manor
FantasyFifteen-year-old Kola Damini thought his greatest worries were surviving crowded spaces and bickering with his diva of an older sister Kanyin-until his Mom mysteriously vanished without a trace. Like every other strange family, his workaholic Dad wh...
