Unoma Nwankwor invites you to the home of the DuBois- Arazis :Tweede Kans Cove. A small town near the Mid Atlas Mountains of Morocco. For the Christmas season or all year round, take a take a trip to the town where love, almost always gets a second chance.
While Christmas is tough for Yasmine DuBois-Arazi, her beloved hometown of Tweede Kans Cove couldn’t be merrier. Her fix? Every year, she goes away. This year, however, when the responsibility for the Hope for the Holidays Christmas benefit suddenly falls in her lap, things might not go according to plan.
She’s gone through worse, but being in Tweede Kans Cove for the holidays isn’t something she thinks she’ll survive. She has to get out of town.
Kojo ‘Keyz’ Sarbah has been on the run long enough. Eighteen years too long. In that time, he’s become a famous, award-winning music producer. To the world, he’s living the dream, but for years, the demons from his childhood told him otherwise. After a near-death experience, he decides to seek help and live free. There’s just one problem; his heart remains bound. And the person with the key hates his guts.
Christmas is the season of hope. Tweede Kans Cove is the town where second chances are born. For Kojo, it’s time to head back to the place of his birth. Will the town’s charm and the season of hope help him convince Yasmine that he deserves a second chance?
Kojo continued on to her. As though she could feel a presence behind her, she looked over her shoulder. Catching a glimpse of him, she stopped. Her eyes widened with surprise and then rolled with annoyance.
“Morning, Yas,” he said. He knew he sounded so lame. His boys would clown him if they saw him now. “How are you?”
She glanced at him, then turned to walk away. “What do you want Kojo?”
“Can’t I just want to say good morning and ask how you are?”
She shook her head and took ear buds out of her pocket and stuffed them in her ears.
Kojo chuckled. She had always been petty. “That’s childish Yas. Come on. We can at least be civil.”
She continued to walk away, not answering him. He glanced up to the sky, whispered a plea for help and jogged up to her. He reached out to touch her arm which halted her steps. Her eyes narrowed and a crease graced her forehead. Nothing she did would scare him off as he deserved it all.
“Okay, you have my attention. What?”
“Okay.” She turned.
He grabbed her arm. “It’s me KJ,” he pleaded, using the nickname she had given him when they were teenagers.
“No, you’re not. What’s it they call you now?” She placed her index finger over her lips, then snapped her fingers. “Oh yes, Keyz.”
“I deserve that. All I ask for is one dinner.”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Coffee? Tea? Fekkas? A sandwich?” He continued to run down the options, but she shook her head at each one. “Yas, come on. It’s Christmas, the season of giving. Just give me your time for conversation. I can explain and I deeply apologize.”
She laughed. “Didn’t they tell you I don’t do Christmas?”
“You what? Since when? You would get a little sad the day before Christmas, but you always enjoyed the season.” He knew something about her was different, but this was ridiculous. Didn’t she see what a wonderful gift God gave them with the birth of Christ?
“KJ,” he corrected her.
“Hein? I’m not calling you that—”
“Why? Brings back too many memories?” he teased.
She folded her arms across her chest. He must have struck a nerve because that was her defense stance. In that moment, he knew that this wasn’t the way to get to her. He was going to have to force her to listen to him
copyright 2019 Unoma Nwankwor
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