CHAPTER ONE

 

 

“You won’t believe who I ran into at the supermarket this evening dear!” Florence began with a grin, as she dumped the grocery bags on the kitchen table and then suddenly grimaced, when she saw her husband making coffee.

“I thought we both agreed you’ll only have one cup of coffee per day? You are putting too much caffeine into your system, Jimi. You are going to become an addict.”

“No I’m not,” Jimi replied with a broad smile, and then sighed, “Okay, okay, I promise not to exceed one cup ever again.”

“You promised before!”

“We’ll I’m promising again. Cross my heart,” he said, crossing his chest with his fingers.

Florence shrugged helplessly. Jimi Omotayo, her adorable husband of six years, was a tall, lean and handsome man. She remembered how they met, eight years before, at the bank where he worked. She’d been hurrying to the Teller’s office to make some deposit, when she’d bumped into him, knocking down the files he was carrying. Then, there was that awkward moment, when both of them reached for the files at the same time and haplessly bumped their heads together in the process. In spite of the obvious pain the head-butt had caused, they had both burst into a fit of giggles, while apologizing at the same time. It wasn’t until they had both gotten to their feet- after picking up the files- that she noticed she was staring into the face of the most handsome man she’d ever met. She always remembered that day fondly. It was the first time she had ever fallen in love with a man on first sight.

 

“Mummy!” her four year old son squealed, running into the kitchen with outstretched arms.

“Pumpkin Tolu…!” Florence said with a warm smile, as her son hugged her fiercely around the waist and then suddenly pulled his head back and looked up at her.

”No mummy…it’s Pumpkin-Tee, that’s what my teacher calls me.” He said, correcting her.

“Err, right. Pumpkin Tee,” She smiled down at him.

Jimi chuckled and continued sipping his coffee. Six year-old Aramide- strolled into the kitchen looking forlorn.

”I’m hungry.” She announced heading straight for the refrigerator.

“Don’t I even get a welcome?” Florence asked her daughter, noting her sour mood.

“Welcome mummy,” she said tonelessly as she peered into the fridge blankly.

“Am hungry too,” little Tolu whined.

“Ok Pumpkin Tee, dinner will be ready before you know it.” Florence said with an enthusiastic smile.

“You always say that, Mummy,” Mide rolled her eyes, closing the fridge,” and then we have to wait and wait and wait till the food gets ready.”

“Today will be different,” Florence sighed, “We are having spaghetti tonight. Who wants to eat spaghetti?” She smiled.

“Me!” Tolu shrieked with joy, raising his small hand straight up, like a child in a classroom. Mide groaned bleakly, and then rolled her eyes again. Jimi dumped his empty mug in the sink, chuckled to himself and then strolled off towards the parlor, while Florence and Tolu danced around the kitchen.

 

Several hours later, with the kids now in bed, Florence and her husband were seated on the sofa in the living room, watching a late night soap opera.

“You didn’t get to tell me who you ran into at the supermarket,” Jimi noted.

“Oh yes, it was Bolu Fasanya, although she’s now Bolu George. She’s married too. You remember her don’t you? She was my maid of honor at our wedding, but she left the country a month or so after…?”

“Ah right, that skinny friend of yours,” Jimi remembered.

“Well she’s not skinny anymore. She’s quite chubby now. Perhaps, she’s pregnant. She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, but she gave me her phone number. Apparently, she lives on Blue’s Drive, that ‘s the next street to ours.”

Jimi looked up at Florence with a raised eyebrow. He noticed his wife seemed rather happy to have been so unexpectedly reunited with her old friend.

“Hmm, that’s interesting. An old friend of mine, who just got back from the States, just bought a house on Blue’s Drive. He’ll be here on Saturday. How come you and Bolu never ran into each other before?

“I thought the same thing too,” Florence said thoughtfully pressing a finger against her lips, “I guess we’ll iron that out once we meet this weekend.”

“Hey, make that meeting on Sunday. You know all the guys will be here on Saturday to watch the Nigeria – Kenya match. I was thinking you could make some snacks for us.” Jimi said winking at his wife.

“Ah I see, and so how much are you willing to pay for my services?” she said folding her arms.

“Ahh, how about we discuss the price right now,” a mischievous grin cropped itself unto his face, as he leaned towards her, nuzzling her earlobe and tracing his fingers down the front of her night dress.

“No, no way. No bribing allowed!” Florence said giggling in spite of herself.

“This isn’t a bribe, it’s a negotiation.” His strong arms pulled her unto his lap with ease and he started kissing her everywhere. Giggling uncontrollably now, she pretended to fight him off.

“I give up.” she conceded finally, melting into his arms.

 

 

Bolu lay on her side, watching her husband Kenny working away on his laptop. She had been trying- quite unsuccessfully- to get his attention for almost an hour. She sighed inwardly. His new contract with the Telecommunications Company he worked for, as head of the I.T department, was beginning to wear on their personal life. In all the four months that they’d been in Nigeria, her husband had done nothing, but soak himself up in work and although she understood his job earned him a rather substantial salary- one which afforded them a more than comfortable lifestyle- she still couldn’t help but feel left out. The way, women who were used to having the attention of their man, often did. She’d left her job at the Daycare Centre in Maryland, in the U.S to be with him and if this warm silence was all she was going to get out of her sacrifice- for the duration of his one year contract- then he’d better think again.

She gave a rather exaggerated sigh and groaned audibly enough to get Kenny to look up from his laptop.

“You all right honey…?” Kenny asked, giving her a quizzical look.

“Sure, I was just thinking how funny it is that I have to compete with your laptop for your attention.”

“Ah, I see,”

“It certainly seems to be the love of your life lately.” She noticed there was a sting in her own voice, she couldn’t help.

“Aw, come on honey, you know it’s not like that. Let me just wrap this stuff up and am all yours.”

“And how long is that going to take, another hour?” She said crossing her arms.

Kenny chuckled, “Don’t be such a nag,”

“Am not nagging, I’m just…”

“All right, all right,” he said shutting down the system and putting the laptop aside, “I am all ears, love. Speak on,”

“Don’t make fun of me Kenny, I’m serious.”

“And I’m listening, really. What do you want to tell me?”

She stifled a sigh, “What do I want to tell you?” She thought to herself, “I want to tell you how much I miss how close we used to be, how much I miss the jovial and cheerful man I married. I want to tell you how much I wish you and I could start looking for a solution to our problem again and maybe this time we might get lucky.”

But, instead she said: “I ran into an old friend of mine at the supermarket today, the one that got married a month before I left for the U.S?”

“Really,” Kenny said, feigning interest, “So how is she doing?”

“From what I could tell, she’s doing great. She has two kids now and she owns her very own catering outfit. She’s really established.”

“Hmm, does she live around here?”

“Yeah, on the next street actually, that’s Pike Avenue. Its funny we never ran into each other before. Well, it’s probably because I don’t go out much.”

“So now that you’ve found your friend, maybe you two should start spending more time together. You know, it might do you some good.”

Bolu scowled at him, “That’s a tidy way to get me off your neck, right?”

“What do you mean? You’re not on my neck!”

“Uh-huh, could’ve fooled me,” she mumbled under her breath.

Kenny rubbed his eyes wearily, he knew what was coming. Another night of heated arguments and half –baked making up.

“Why don’t you just tell me what’s really on your mind Bolu…? What are you mad about?”

“I am mad about you ignoring me and treating me like a burden. I am mad about you coming home every evening from work, scarcely breathing in my direction as if I’m invisible. What do I owe you Kenny, what?!”

“Please keep your voice down for Christ’s sake. And for your information, as far as I know, you owe me nothing.”

“How about a baby…?”

“Aw God,” Kenny groaned, “Not this again. We’ve been through this a million times before. Why are you bringing it up again?”

Bolu tried desperately to hold back the tears welling up behind her eyes. “Kenny please…it’s been four months since we came to Nigeria and I think we are ready. Let’s start the treatment again. I could go for the fertility test tomorrow, who knows, the result might be more positive this time. We could try the in-vitro? Maybe find some other treatment we haven’t tried. Kenny, please?”

There was that look in her eyes. That earnest look that said: ‘This was something she really wanted,’ and would do anything and everything to get. The look of a childless mother who blamed herself for not being able to give her husband the child she knew would make their marriage complete.

Kenny ground his teeth. “Why was she always doing this?” he thought to himself, “Why did she insist on making him feel like he was somehow withholding her right to be a Mother?”

Their quest for a baby had begun three years after they got married and discovered Bolu couldn’t get pregnant. They’d gone from hospital to hospital seeking one specialist after another, all to no avail. The last Doctor they’d seen, before coming to Nigeria, had advised them to rest up for a couple of months, before trying again. Now, barely four months after, Bolu was begging him to go through the same grueling routine all over again. The thought of the procedures involved for artificial insemination made Kenny feel a rush of humiliation. They had been married for five years with no child and even though he knew it wasn’t her intent, Bolu had only succeeded in making him feel like he was the one responsible for their lack of a child.

“Please Kenny, don’t go silent on me. Tell me you agree with me, let’s try again. It could work this time, it could.”

Her desperation grated on his nerves. “Who does she think he is, God?” he thought angrily and then sighed.

“Honey, please not tonight. I’m tired and I don’t think we should end the evening like this. Let’s talk about this another time.”

“Why are you doing this?” Bolu asked, finally the tears came rolling down her cheeks, “Are you really happy the way we are?”

Kenny was at a loss of words. He didn’t understand why his wife couldn’t reason with him on this matter. He got out of bed and strolled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him softly.

Bolu buried her face in the pillow and wept.

 

 

The shop was cramped. Three dryers stood on a row opposite the entrance. Adjacent to the dryers, was the dressing tables filled with an assorted array of hair treatments and shampoos. There was a huge rectangular mirror and a rack which held hair-rollers of various sizes and colors. The wall behind the dressing table on the other side, held a number shelves containing various hair products, both foreign and local.

Stephanie Ufort stepped into her shop through a beaded curtain and assessed her salon with a pleased smirk. She had hoped for a bigger shop, but since this was all she could afford for the moment, she would make the best of it.

She felt a measure of pride knowing that this shop was birthed from her efforts; all the expenses strictly from her purse. Wait till you see this, Aniefiok, she thought smugly. Her husband, Aniefiok Ufort hadn’t supported the idea. When she had told him she’d decided to resign from her job at the travel agency to set up her salon, he had quite subtlety expressed his belief that she wouldn’t be able to do it, but a couple of months later and here she was in her own shop, without even the slightest bit of help from her all-knowing husband.

“You are wrong this time, Annie baby. I’ve made it without your help.” She smirked evilly to herself.

Her husband, a highly qualified gynecologist, who earned a sultan’s ransom as his salary at the Lagos state General hospital, hadn’t thought that shoving his hard-earned money into his wife’s fantasy, was worth the risk. So, he’d volunteered his advice instead. His wife’s often fickle nature had made him think she would not be able to bring her plan to fruition, but now, the existence of her fully functional salon would definitely make him eat his words.

Stephanie’s high-heeled pumps clunked rhythmically against the hard tiled floor as she walked around the salon admiring her handiwork. She couldn’t wait to start business. She’d always dreamed of owning her own salon, ever since she was just a little girl. She’d even made a living- albeit briefly- making hair on campus at the university she had attended some years back. But, that was before she became wise to the miserable ways of the world.

“Ah, Stephanie the bitch,” she thought chuckling. That was a story for another day.

She gave the shop a final once over before heading outside. She closed the iron doors, locked it with a padlock and put the keys delicately into her purse, and then patted her bag proudly. She couldn’t help but notice the spring in her step as she walked down the shopping complex staircase towards the parking lot.

“Finally, I am my own boss,” she thought happily as she headed towards her car, a metallic gray Toyota Camry parked between a jeep and a Volkswagen gulf. She was just about to open the door to the car when she heard a strangely familiar voice calling out.

“Unbelievable. Stephanie?”

Stephanie turned around and looked at the lady, who was plump and smartly dressed; her face was a mark of surprise. Stephanie couldn’t quite place the face even though the lady looked very familiar to her.

“God, it is you, Stephanie! Don’t you remember me Silly…? Bolu Fasanya, Uniport!”

Stephanie gasped, “Oh my God! Bolu,” she said remembering, “Am sorry, I didn’t recognize you. It’s been so long, ten years?”

They hugged and laughed and talked at the same time. Bolu stepped back to assess her friend.

“Good old Stephanie,” as slender and curvy as ever. She was dressed in a red off-shoulder Spanish top, on a white flared skirt with red flowers. Her brown patent leather high-heel shoes accentuated her sexy toned-legs and she carried a matching brown sling bag. Bolu noted how lady-like her friend now looked. This Stephanie was a far cry from ‘Trailer-Trash Stephanie’, from back in the day.

“I’m so glad to see you, Stephie. What are you doing here…?” Bolu asked.

Stephanie was well aware Bolu had giving her the once-over. She knew her unexpected transformation had literally knocked her friend out of her shoes.

“I’m happy to see you too. It’s a small world isn’t it? What happened to you Bolu, you are looking…big,” she said, just stopping short of saying fat.

“Ha, ha…” Bolu laughed with forced enthusiasm. She absolutely hated it when people talked about her weight, “I guess I got tired of being skinny. So what brings you here?”

“Smooth,” Stephanie thought, realizing her friend was a bit touchy about her size. “Uh, well I just acquired a shop in this complex; a salon actually, of my very own!”

“Wow, that’s wonderful. Congratulations!” she said, with genuine excitement for her friend’s success.

“Thank you,” Stephanie beamed.

“That makes two of you, doing your own thing. You and Florence, she owns a catering outfit not too far from this Estate.”

“Florence? You’ve seen her lately?”

“Yes, we just rediscovered ourselves two days ago. She lives on the next street, Pike Avenue. Do you live in this estate too?”

“Yes, on James’ street. That’s like ten minutes’ drive from here. And you?”

“I live on this street, down the road.”

“I see,” Stephanie said.

“Oh Stephanie, don’t you think it is amazing how all three of us ended up living in the same neighborhood…?” Bolu beamed.

“Amazing…? No, weird is more like it. We should get together, you know.”

“Of course, Florence is coming to my place on Sunday. She called me yesterday, so how about it?”

“Sunday is it? No problem. Let me have your phone number,” Stephanie said reaching into her bag for her cell phone.

Bolu noticed the gold wedding band, with a matching diamond studded ring on Stephanie’s finger, for the first time.

“You are married?” Bolu asked incredulously.

Stephanie heard the surprise in her friend’s voice and for an instant was incensed.

“Of course I am,” she snapped, “Why…? Is that so surprising, shouldn’t I be married?”

“No, I mean yes. Please Stephanie I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just that you were always kicking against the idea of getting married, so I thought,” her voice trailed away suddenly.

“People change you know and don’t get worked up over nothing. Just, game your number..?”

Bolu was immensely glad Stephanie had so quickly diffused the tension her comment caused. But then, she had never really been the quarrelsome type. The two exchanged phone numbers and addresses, chatted casually for a short time and several minutes later, Stephanie got into her car and drove off. Bolu stood, staring thoughtfully after her friend’s car as it disappeared out of sight.

“Thank God, Stephanie hadn’t inquired about her profession or family,” She thought to herself, “What would she have said? That she’s resting at home, waiting till her body was ready to accommodate a baby? Lord! Even naughty Stephanie was married with a three-year old son. The son, she had just rushed off to pick up from the crèche.”

“So, what’s your story Bolu…?” She asked herself. Maybe this reunion with her friends on Sunday wasn’t such a good idea after all.

 

CHAPTER TWO

It was Saturday, the football-match had barely even started and the house already sounded like a stadium. Jimi and his friends were making so much noise about the Nigerian national team’s line-up. The four men were having doughnuts and cold sodas in the living room.

Florence couldn’t help but smile, when they started calling themselves names and making fun of each other. She wondered if the day would ever come when they would just sit quietly and watch their match. She finished washing the bowls and pans she’d used for the food she’d prepared for Jimi and his gang and started tidying the kitchen.

The doorbell rang and Jimi got up to answer the door with a glass of soda in one hand.

“Hey, my main man Kenny!” Jimi greeted the newcomer, catching him in a bear hug and accidentally spilling his drink on his friend’s shirt in the process.

“Aww Jimi, look what you’ve done. You’ve messed up my white T.M shirt. It’s brand new.”

“Shut up, Mister Vanity and come say hi to us,” Francis- one of their friends- said from his seat near the TV set.

Kenny strolled into the room with a broad smile, shaking hands and hugging his friends.

“Move away, Kenny you are blocking my view,” said Ovine, who was straining to see the television screen behind Kenny.

“Why don’t you go to the kitchen and clean up the mess I made on your shirt,” Jimi suggested.

“Where is the kitchen?”

“It’s right there. My wife’s inside, she can help you out,” Jimi said turning his attention to the match.

“Some friend you are,” Kenny said with a knowing smile as he made his way to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Florence stood frozen to a spot,

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.08.2014
ISBN: 978-3-7368-3164-3

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