His phone beeped with an incoming text. He picked it up and winced when he saw the screen.
His dad.
He debated ignoring it, but his dad only texted when he was really annoyed. If Danny didn’t answer, it just got worse. The last thing he needed right now was for his dad to retaliate by letting more trouble into his house.
Getting up, he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and went to sit in the living room to read the text.
Dad
Where are you?
Osei
What do you need?
Dad
Food. We tried to order but your credit card didn’t work.
Because while he’d been waiting for his flight to Chicago, he’d canceled it. Going home and finding all those drugs in his home had freaked him out. He hated to think his money was buying it, but his money was funding everything they were doing so he had to be realistic about it. Kofi had a job, albeit just as a waiter in a restaurant, but he’d be able to take care of himself until Danny figured out what to do.
Osei
Weird.
Dad
I’d ask Kofi, but he left his job.
Osei
What?
Dad
They didn’t treat him with respect. He’ll make money other ways.
That was what Danny was afraid of.
Kofi loved cooking. Danny had been trying to get him to go to culinary school. The tuition wasn’t a problem because he had tons of money, and the kid was young and energetic. Their dad wasn’t supportive of the idea though—cooking was women’s work and made youokotobonku—and so Kofi hadn’t moved on that yet.
Leaving the restaurant wasn’t a good sign.
Dad
You need to come home. Kofi needs you.
He gritted his teeth. His dad knew which buttons to push.
Dad
And we must discuss your game.
And there was another button.
Danny gripped his phone, his chest tight. His dad always had advice on his game. At first, Danny had gobbled it up—to have his dad that interested in him felt better than anything. He’d never had that kind of caring. Sure, he’d always known his mom cared about him, but she was at the hospital all the time. He knew logically that there was only so much attention she could give him—her patients commanded most of her mental capacity.
But the past number of years, his dad’s advice had become a point of contention. He knew his game and he was excellent at it—usually, at least. To have his dad pick it apart had started to annoy him, and it seemed like lately his dad took every opportunity to criticize it.