TEMMY : Last Chance at Happiness

“I see you are beaming from ear to ear Temmy,” Funmi teased, drawing me apart from the crowd at the bar.

“Can you blame me?” I laughed. “I can’t help it! Thank you guys for doing this.”

It was Friday night; we were at my going-away party and I was indeed in a great mood. Many of my friends, colleagues at work and my family members were present, and I was enjoying all their love and attention. To my disappointment, the only person who wasn’t there was Lola. She sent me a text to say she had to go to Milton Keynes this evening to sort out some issues going on in her relationship.

“Of course we had to, you deserve a great send-off!” Funmi said. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

I raised an eyebrow, pretending I didn’t know what she meant.

“I’m talking about Tade,” Funmi said, shoving me playfully. “I’ve seen him here tonight and you guys are all over each other. Have you ironed out all your issues?”

Titi came to join us at that moment.

“Yeah I’ve been meaning to corner Temmy to ask,” she said to Funmi. “What’s up with you and Tade?”

I smiled again as I looked at both their faces.

“You nosy girls,” I mocked. “Will you believe me if I said nothing happened?”

“Nope,” Titi said. “Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay,” I relented. “He came to see me at work, we had dinner and things happened from there.”

“When was this?” Funmi asked. “I thought you had cut him off completely.”

“I did. But somehow he found out I was leaving, and he promptly got in touch.” I laughed. “I think he was scared of losing me for good.”

“Of course.” Titi said. “If he loses a babe like you because of his pride, then he’s dumb.”

Funmi took a sip of her drink and nodded. “I agree. Tell us more about the dinner.”

“I’ll tell you guys later.” I said. “It’s not something I can discuss here and now. Let’s just enjoy the party.”

“I’m just curious that’s all,” Titi said. “But I’m really happy for you Temmy.”

“So am I,” Funmi said. “I wish you guys all the best. Temmy behave yourself, and make sure you don’t do anything naughty.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry girls. This time, I’m giving it all I have.”

“That’s good to hear.” Titi said, giving me a hug. I hugged her back.

“Let me go and say hello to my cousin, who just came in.” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

As I walked across the bar, I recalled the evening when Tade had practically ambushed me outside my office.

I had been working late, but then he called me and I wrapped up my work and decided on the spur of the moment to meet him. Even if it was just for a few minutes, I was curious to see him, and wondering what he would say.

I stepped out of the building’s sliding doors and he was right there, looking like he just stepped out of a magazine. I almost stopped breathing. Memories of that hot night in Paris flashed through my mind and tingles ran up and down my spine.

“Hi,” he said simply, holding out his right hand.

I smiled and took his hand, not trusting myself to speak just yet. He led the way quietly for a few minutes as we walked, stopping in front of a nice Turkish restaurant.

“Come, we can talk in here,” he said. He pushed open the door of the restaurant and let me to the desk.

“Table for two please.”

“Okay sir. Come with me.” The girl at the desk picked up two menus and led us through the tastefully decorated interior to a corner. We sat down and she took our drinks orders before she retreated.

Finally I was able to open my mouth.

“Tade, what are we doing here?”

“Knowing you, I needed a tactic to get to see you. Temmy, how could you not tell me?”

I shrugged. “Tell you what?”

“That you were moving away.”

“I didn’t have your number anymore.” I said, looking at him directly.

“What?”

“The last time we talked and I told you some stuff, you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to know me anymore.”

“That was my initial reaction to the things you told me. But when I thought about it later, I realised it didn’t mean I liked you any less.”

Our drinks arrived. I took a sip of the coconut and rum cocktail and sighed.

“Tade, you don’t know how hard it was for me to confess to you. I had been carrying this huge load of guilt around since that trip and I didn’t want us to start a relationship based on lies.”

He reached across and took my right hand in his.

“I’m sorry. That night meant something to me, Temmy.” He looked at me intensely. “I took a chance to show you how I felt about you but…”

The waiter arrived again to take our orders. After he left, Tade continued.

“When you told me about your issues with your ex-boyfriend, I was like man; I don’t want to get involved with a girl who had baggage.”

“But –”

“I know, I was being judgemental,” Tade went on. “After all, I’m not a saint and I wouldn’t take it if somebody was to treat me the way I was treating you.”

I glared at him and shook my head. “Yeah, that was unfair.”

He squeezed my hand. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really sorry; I want us to move past all that. Shall we start on a clean slate?”

I angled my head to one side and considered his earnest eyes. Here was Tade, my long-term crush asking me to give him a chance. It was an incredible feeling and my heart quickened at the thought that I could finally have a chance at happiness and stability in a relationship. Imagine that – Temmy in a long-term relationship!

“I would love that,” I finally replied.

“Brilliant!” His face lit up and he squeezed my hand again, grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary. “You are really great Temmy, you know that right? I’m a lucky man to have you.”

“So all that whole issue with my ex – we can forget about that and move on?”

“Believe me, I’ve already forgotten about it.”

I smiled and took another sip of my drink. I’m taking a chance on love and actually feeling good about it. But a thought crossed my mind. I’ve had enough trouble maintaining relationships within the same city in the past. How would I deal with the added complexity of long-distance? Would I not start getting bored again? Would trust not be an issue between us?

“Tade, with my moving to Italy soon, how is this going to work?”

“I have faith in you – in us.” Tade continued. “Don’t worry sweetheart, let’s just take it one day at a time.”

Our food arrived, and we both thanked the waiter. I took a bite of my perfectly grilled lamb and chewed thoughtfully.

“But I’m leaving next Tuesday morning.”

He smiled and winked. “So we have the weekend to reacquaint ourselves before you leave and I’ll see you off to the airport. Then as soon as you settle in, I can come and visit.”

“Okay, I guess. I’ll be coming back to London for my friend, Funmi’s wedding in a few month’s time too.”

“I’ll miss you, no doubt about that,” he said. “I’ll be on your BBM constantly.”

We continued talking and lost track of time. Before we knew it, we were the last diners in the restaurant and the staff were clearing up. Tade looked at his wrist watch. It was almost midnight.

“Geez, it’s getting late.” He stood up. “Let me get the check and call us a taxi.”

“Okay.”

I was feeling a bit light; maybe it was down to the food and two glasses of wine. But I knew it was mostly down to the way my heart was singing with joy. In the taxi, Tade pulled me close and kissed me with so much passion and promise. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fantasise about new chapters and happily-ever-afters.

* * * * *

My new boyfriend came with me after the send-off party. We left some of my friends at the bar to go clubbing together, and this time I danced with only him all night. It felt great to think about him as my boyfriend now, instead of the earlier uncertainties. When we got back to my place in the early hours of the morning, it felt completely natural for us to recreate our first night of passion together. I smiled as I matched his moves in my bed. This time, there would be no regrets.

When we finally got out of bed on Saturday, he decided to stay another day and I didn’t protest at all. I was pleased we had the chance to spend my last weekend in London together, even if we were clearing out my flat and packing my belongings most of the time. It was time well spent, catching up on gist about our mutual friends from school, and getting to know ourselves better, all over again. In the evening, he went back to his place, promising to come back on Monday evening to see me off to the airport.

* * * * *

My ears were full by the time I left Funmi’s house on Sunday evening. As selfish as it sounds, I was glad to be leaving the country to get away for a while. Geez, there was just too much drama going on in our lives. It was like, literally one thing after the other! First, Funmi said she was bringing her wedding forward to try and thwart her mother-in-law’s ambitions to take over the whole thing, which was fine. Then she had received news about Maureen’s killer from the police, only for us to find out that he had been murdered too! But it was Lola’s story that had us all shocked and worried the most. Her boyfriend had been arrested on suspicion of committing the murder. Poor Lola! I couldn’t even begin to imagine the dilemma she was going through, trying to decide whether she should stick by him or not. I was just glad not to be in her shoes at this time.

I got home and surveyed my almost-empty flat. Apart from my bed, everything was either stacked away in boxes or put in black bags for trash and orange bags for recycling. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Even though I was glad to be taking on my new job and moving to Italy, I couldn’t help feeling a little sad about leaving my friends, family and new love behind. Someone had pointed out that our close-knit group was not going to be the same again. With Maureen gone, Funmi getting married and me in a different country, things were bound to change. Dolapo too was about to embark on an international music career. I hoped my girls and I could still do our best to keep our bond strong in the coming months and even years.

I lay on my bed and visualized what lay ahead for all of us in the next year. I pictured Funmi’s wedding to the man of her dreams. I imagined Dolapo’s album and career taking off such that she was getting interviews on TV shows and in high-profile magazines. I hoped Titi would sort out the issues between her and the married man, and I sincerely prayed that Lola would make the right choice regarding Wole. As for me, what did I want exactly? I just wanted to be happy – to be content with my love life and my career. For now, that was enough. With that thought, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

“Temmy, the taxi is here!” Tade called out to me.

“Okay, I’m coming!” I replied. I was in the bathroom, putting finishing touches to my make-up. I took one last look in the mirror and was satisfied with what I saw. Temmy, the crazy, fun-loving girl, looking mature and professional in a light grey suit, ready to take on new challenges in a new job based in a new city.

“I’ll start taking your things downstairs,” he said.

“Thanks honey.” I looked at my watch. It was already six o’clock, and my flight to Milan was at nine-thirty, so we needed to hurry. I grabbed my hand luggage, double checked that I had my passport, ticket and all other relevant documents, followed Tade out of the flat and locked the door.

“I’ve told my estate agent to collect the keys from you tomorrow,” I said to Tade, tethering on high heels as I carried my small case down the stairs.

“No problem. Did you give them my number?”

“Yes I did.”

“Hope you haven’t forgotten anything important?”

“I’m sure I’ve got everything. Let’s see: my laptop and ipod are in this case, I’ve checked my handbag for all my documents and the address of the hotel I’ll be checking into.”

“Good.”

We got out of the building and Tade helped the taxi driver to load my boxes into the boot.

“Heathrow Terminal 5 please,” I said to the driver as we got in.

“Okay madam.”

We spent most of the journey in silence. I was savouring every minute, looking out of the window as the streets of London zoomed past and biting my lower lip so that I wouldn’t cry. Tade was also quiet, lost in his thoughts.

The morning rush-hour traffic had not yet reached its peak, so the journey to Heathrow wasn’t too bad. We arrived within an hour, which gave me enough time to check-in my bags and collect my boarding pass. Tade and I then had breakfast at a café then he escorted me back to the departure hall.

“You have to go soon, my darling.” Tade said.

He was right. We looked on the information on the departure boards and I had to get to through security and to the gates within the next twenty-five minutes. The tears threatened to fall again.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” I said. I hugged him, holding him for a long time wishing he could come with me.

“I’ll be expecting your call.”

“Oh Tade…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine. I’m going to miss you but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

I nodded. He was trying to be strong, so I could be too.

“I’m only a call or message away babe.”

He led me by the hand to the queue for security and nudged me.

“Now go. Otherwise you’ll miss your flight.”

“Okay,” I sniffed. “Pose.”

I looked into his handsome face and then took a quick snapshot on my phone. He smiled and kissed me, his taste lingering on my lips.

“See you soon darling.” I said, and turned round.

I looked behind me one last time, and he waved. I waved back and then crossed the security barriers. Before me lay great opportunities and adventures. Goodbye London. Welcome Milan.

(c) FG

FOLAKE: Me, Myself & I

“My flat is ready to be moved into.” I took a gingerly sip of tea, revelling in the slightly bitter taste as it warmed its way down my throat. I had woken up earlier, my throat feeling a bit scratchy. Those were the telltale signs of the flu and right now, being sick wasn’t on my agenda. There was a lot on my plate and I needed all my strength and a clear head to work through them all.

“Are you just going to ignore the elephant in the room?”

“Elephant?” I let out a mock laugh and looked around. “What elephant?”

Michael and I were seated across from each other in the hotel room with some smooth jazz sounds, which I’d put on earlier to help me relax. I knew what he wanted to talk about but I wasn’t ready. I knew it’d been a shock for him to hear it at the hospital that I was pregnant.

Although Dayo had taken me to the hospital and completed all the necessary paperwork, it was Michael that was there to comfort me. He was there to take me home the next day and had left me be although I could see the questions brimming in his eyes every time he looked at me.

He ran his hands through his hair in clear frustration and I was getting slightly agitated.

“What!” I snapped. “What do you want to know?”

“What are you going to do about the baby?”

“Abort it.” I returned his questioning look with a defiant one.

Shocked silence filled the room at my matter of fact declaration. The only indication that my comment had registered was the widening of his eyes. I finished my tea and got up to go into the bedroom. Michael was right there on my heels.

“Surely you can’t mean that.”

“Well, I had some time to think while I was in the hospital overnight and with my marriage apparently in ruins, I don’t know that bringing this child into the world is worth it. I’d hate to bring this child into the world with a loser like Dayo.”

“You are a wonderful woman, Folake.” Michael sat me down on the bed and took my hands in his. “I think you’re incredible. I’ve admired you ever since we met in college and I know that you will be a great mother. Don’t let scum like Dayo affect the life of this innocent one.” He stared intently into my eyes, as if willing me to reconcile my thoughts with his.

I settled deeper into the bed and let out a heavy sigh.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one whose body is going to explode into a dome or waddle like a duck and all those unpleasant things that happen with pregnant women.”

“Folake.” His hand brushed the side of my face tenderly. “You are beautiful now and you’ll be beautiful pregnant. You’re not like most women.”

I moved my head to brush his hand off. Having him so close, touching me was affecting me in ways I didn’t want to own up to.

“Michael, I just need some time to think. There’s too much going on around me and I don’t feel like myself anymore. It’s a bit disconcerting. I am not the same Folake I was a year ago. And you know that.” I added at his ready denial.

“You’re better than you were.” He moved closer and brushed his lips against my forehead. Closer still, his lips were a whisper against mine, as he gathered me closer into his arms. For a while neither of us said anything until the phone in the room rang, causing us to disengage from each other. I picked it up. Speak of the devil.

“Yes, Dayo. How may I help you again?”

Michael left the room quietly but I knew that our conversation was far from over.

* * * * *

The meeting with Dayo went relatively well. I was determined to remain calm and I did. He asked me about the baby… if only he knew where my thoughts were going. I truly wondered if he’d call the chief to explain himself. He wouldn’t dare. My dad could be a formidable person, especially when giving him not so pleasing news. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Right now I was at work and determined to make it through the day without any more time devoted to personal issues. There were some things I needed to handle, which was the reason I had Kene in front of me looking nervous. It wasn’t all the time you got specially summoned into the big boss’ office.

I looked at him and gave him a smile. The kind that meant some business was about to go down. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Kene.” I waited for him to sit up straighter, if that were possible. “I hear you’re fooling around with Dolapo, is this true?” I looked at him pointedly.

“Well…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” I got up and walked around my desk. I took the chair adjacent to his and crossed my legs. Each move, precise, designed to make him more uncomfortable.

“Ms. Williams, with all due respect…”

“Kene, with all due respect, don’t waste my time.”

“Well, we do have something going”

“I am concerned about whatever it is that you may have going and the effect it may or may not have on her work. I just want to make my position clear on this. I am not one to get involved in people’s personal business but if something goes wrong as they typically do, I want you to be aware that I will hold you personally responsible.”

He cleared his throat and I got up and went to the door.

“That’s all, Kene. Thanks for stopping by.” I opened the door and closed it with a soft click after he’d walked out.

It was nearing lunchtime and I thought about calling Michael up to see if he wanted to meet up with me. We hadn’t spoken much after my meeting with Dayo. It seemed like he was giving me my space, why I don’t know. Just as I was about to buzz him, I heard the chirping of my mobile phone. I would have ignored it but it was the special ring I had assigned to the chief.

“Hi daddy!”

“My sweetheart. It’s getting harder and harder to reach you. I told your mom you’re fine but she’s been bothering me to keep calling you to make sure.”

Right! What a lie. If anything it was the reverse. Daddy had a soft spot for me. I could even hear mommy’s denial in the background.

“I’m fine, Daddy. How’s everyone at home?”

“We are all doing fine. Your aunty Kemi came the other day…” Daddy made sure I was all caught up on the family gossip. After regaling me with a funny episode that happened with one of the maids, I decided it was time to break the news about Dayo to him.

“I have some news to tell you daddy.” I tone had taken a sombre note which caught his attention. “Tell mommy to pick up the extension so that she can hear it too.”

I went ahead to give them the details of my marriage and how Dayo had requested a divorce. My father was fuming; mommy said she’d call her pastor to start praying. The whole conversation left me more drained than I cared about. If anything, this was cementing my decision to have the abortion. I knew I’d have to act quickly before I started showing. I never thought I’d be in this position; never thought I’d consider this position.

Home was calling.

* * * * *

When I got back to the hotel, Michael wasn’t there. So I ordered up a light meal and decided to channel surf and wait his return. On my way to the hotel, I had finally made up my mind that I would not have this baby and I wanted to get Michael onboard with my decision.

“Folake.” I was being gently shaken awake.

“Oh. Hey.” I stretched. “I didn’t realize I had dozed off. I was trying to wait up for you.”

“Why?” He took off his suit jacket and laid it next to me. “Everything okay?”

“Michael, I know that you’re against this decision but I’ve finally decided to go through with not having this baby.”

“How can you say that, Folake? You want to be a child murderer?”

“Michael!” My shock at his response caused my exclamation. “How dare you?”

“That’s what you’ll be if you get rid of this baby.” He stood askance beside me, hands on his hips.

“Michael, It’s best for me, it’s best for everyone.”

“No, Folake. It’s best for you. Not for everyone. Heck Folake, have the baby and I’ll adopt it.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know that if you abort it, you’ll be a murderer.”

“Michael!” I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to hearing that word. “How can you raise another man’s child? How can you?” I got up to match his height, my voice going up an octave. “You’re clearly delusional.”

“If you go and have this abortion Folake, you can forget about me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously. “What does that mean?”

His breath was coming in and out a little faster. This argument was more of a workout than I anticipated.

“What I’m saying is this Folake.” He dragged in a ragged breath. “If your decision is to have this abortion, I cannot be a party to that. It is an abomination and you might as well forget about me.”

“You don’t mean that.” False bravado tried to rebuff his words.

“I do. So what is it to be?”

I took a moment to consider his words and with a small voice, “I’m sorry. My mind’s made up.”

* * * * *

It’s been weeks since that incident at the hotel suite. Needless to say Michael left soon after our conversation and I haven’t heard from him since. He hasn’t returned any of my calls nor has he called to check on me. Since our conversation, I’d wavered in my decision to have this baby. I even made a list of the pros and the cons. I was more mixed up than I ever was. Life wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.

I had finally moved into my flat and immersed myself with work so much so that when I came back home, I barely had the strength to do anything but take a shower and fall into bed.

Today, as I came back into my flat, I took in a deep breath. It had been a long day. It was Friday and I had made sure to clear my calendar for the weekend. I took a leisurely hot shower and put on one of my favourite movies. The Sound of Music always managed to lift my spirits up. As I tucked my blankets around me, I did something that I hadn’t done in a while. I reached into the bottom drawer of my bedside table and got out my journal and penned some of my thoughts.

One day, I hope to look back on this entry and remember my strength, remember who I was and how far I’ve come. I don’t know what the future holds at this point. After Dolapo’s album release party, I’m taking some time away from work. I’m going back home to Nigeria. Mommy didn’t react well to the news of my break up and I haven’t yet told them I’m pregnant. Daddy wants me to come home and has promised to deal mercilessly with Dayo and his family… gosh daddy is so Nigerian… mercilessly indeed! LOL. I have no sympathy for him but perhaps his family isn’t necessarily to blame. Tumi has tried to reach out to me but I’ve ignored all her attempts. I hope she understands. Anyways, it’s not about anyone anymore. It’s about me now. Dayo’s out of my life. Michael is gone too. I’m still pregnant. For now.

© Diamond Hawk

DAYO: Grinning With Clenched Teeth

I was having a bad day. Twice I had snapped at Jean. I had cut the phone on Luther and had done a good job of avoiding Blake all day. I should have called in sick, but I had already done that yesterday and it was a sissy thing to repeat anyway. Not when there were contracts waiting to be reviewed and Blake fussing about them. So I walked around with a scowl and twirled the complementary card Chikwendu gave me, wondering whether it was time to give the lawyer a ring. Wouldn’t it be callous? Folake was discharged from the clinic two days ago after the twenty-four hours observation. She was back at her hotel too. When I spoke to her yesterday evening, she sounded fine . . . and evasive. I thought I heard her ‘friend’ at the background. Such a kind man; helping me care for my wife. The bloody idiot! I almost called Barr. Fashokun that evening. And I would have cited adultery as the reason for the divorce too!

I picked up the receiver and dialled Ten Manchester Street, and asked the receptionist to put me through to Ms. Williams.

“Yes, Dayo. How may I help you again?” her voice was low, sleepy. What was she doing with her dear friend?

“Hello. How are you doing today?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” she paused and I heard a door close, the volume of a musical program reduced to a murmur, and china plates shifted aside.

I listened harder to confirm if that was a man-ish grunt I just heard. Was her friend lying beside her? Taking good care of her? What I got was Folake’s controlled breathing and a sniffle.

“You’ve got a cold?” I asked.

“Yes. Just a slight sniffle actually. It began this morning.”

“Have you called your gynaecologist? I don’t think you can just pop in any medication you want. At least, not aspirin, if I remember correctly.”

“Remember from whom? Have you gotten any other women pregnant? Your Titi, perhaps?” The sweetness of her tone could make a drum of tea.

Now was the opportune time to say what I really thought of the pregnancy, but I held myself back. If the baby was mine, Folake could use it against me in custody deliberations. Abeg, na Oyinbo land we dey o. And Chief Williams was who he was.

“There’s no need to be sarcastic, Folake. I’m just trying to express my concern.”

She sighed. “Thanks. I took paracetamol and had two servings of chicken soup.”

“That’s good. So, are you nauseous?”

“No, not now.”

“That’s good.” I noticed the intercom blinking. It might be Blake. Or the director of department. “Right. I was thinking of coming over tonight after work.”

“What for?” Her voice also echoed; also a door shut and the toilet flushed.

“I don’t mean to intrude into your love nest, but we’ve things to talk about. Things that are better said face to face.”

“Love nest?” She questioned with a derisive laugh. “I guess you’re referring to Michael. You dare to ask about a love nest when you’re sleeping with someone else?”

Any other day, I would have snapped back at her but again I swallowed my tongue. I have never argued with a pregnant woman and I wouldn’t start now. Still, I would not be spoken to anyhow.

“Just have him out, that’s all I ask.”

“First off, Michael is not the issue here and secondly, you’re assuming that I will agree to see you.”

“You’d have to.”

Silence. “We can meet downstairs in the lounge. Briefly,” she added with emphasis.

What did she think? That I was coming for a bloody night cap? “Of course. Shall we say seven o’clock?”

“Seven is fine.”

I didn’t wait to hear the dialling tone before I replaced the handset.

I picked it up again. “Hey Jean. Someone asking for me, do you know?”

“That was me.” She had considerably lost her usual vivaciousness. She was probably mellow on account of my moodiness, although it was so out of character for her.

“Oh. What’s up?” I tried hard to inject as much cheer into the salute, to get her at ease.

“Nothing much. I’m off to lunch and I wondered if I could grab a package for you.”

“Hmmm.”

I had originally had in mind to eat with Titi, but she said she would be busy the entire day. Yesterday evening, when she wanted to come over to the flat, I was too depressed. So we took a rain check. If I keep my appointment with Folake tonight, which I would, it would make it three days we last saw. I wanted to see her so badly today. To touch her. To tell her I could be a father in the nearest future.

“Dayo?”

I jolted out of my thoughts, and massaged my forehead. “Sorry, Jean. Got a lot of things on my mind.”

“I can tell.”

“I bet you can. One quick question, though. Do you know anything about DNA testing? If it can be done on foetuses?”

She cleared her throat with such theatrics that I pictured her batting her lashes in confusion and dancing about her chair. “Dayo has been a naughty boy, Dayo has been a naughty boy.” She crooned, in a whisper. “Don’t tell me you knock up someone you shouldn’t?”

“You can get me pepperoni and cheese pizza with a cappuccino, if you may.” I said in the sternest manner.

“Sure.” She got the message: she was prying and today wasn’t business as usual. “Full size pizza?”

“No. two slices will be fine. I had a heavy breakfast. You can come for the money.”

“Naa. This one is on me.”

For putting your foot into your mouth, I thought. “Thanks Jean. I owe you one.”

After the call, I faced the pile of files on my desk.

*    *    *    *    *

I left the office early. My brain had refused to function, no matter how much I pushed it. Figures were jumping out of the papers without making sense. In the end, I gave up and texted Folake that I was coming over. I waited for her to confirm that I was okay before I left for Baker Street. Her hotel was two stops from my side of Marylebone with the Metro Line, but I’d get there quicker by taxi than the tube. If our discussion went smoothly, I could return to the office and drive back home. Hopefully, with a clearer head than I had now.

I kept my eyes fixed on the windows and flicked the lawyer’s business card the entire ride. If only the frigging Michael hadn’t showed up the day Folake came to me with the news of a baby, I wouldn’t have this doubt in my mind who the pregnancy belonged to. I would have stepped up to my obligations to my child and be having a different type of conversation from what I would have with Folake in a few minutes.

About the time I was taking my A’ levels, mum’s sister left her husband and went with the kids. That sparked a long-winded debated between mum and dad. Dad said Aunty was the result of the mixture of a selfish woman, America, and feminism. Her sons would grow up to resent her for depriving them of their father, he pronounced. Mom defended her sister, claiming that the boys had nothing reasonable to learn from the buffoon after all. If there were no children, that argument wouldn’t have come up. The split would have been clean cut – everybody goes their separate ways; end of story. I didn’t want to be seen as a buffoon. And I didn’t want my child living in a different continent from me. Had Folake had taken in earlier; I’d have severed ties with Titi. I would have hated to, but I would have done it nonetheless. Children didn’t have to suffer for their parent’s mistakes; mom had taught me that in the way she conducted her own marriage.

I could have pursued that venue still, but Folake fainted into the arms of the strange man with an American accent, and he had to play Prince Charming and insisted on taking her to the A&E in a waiting cab that was just around the corner. I didn’t fight him then; I calmly drove behind him. But by Jove, had he dared come forward when the attending nurse asked for family members of the patient, I would have decked him right in the face and damned an assault charge. Thank God he withdrew and let me take my place by her bedside. Until she asked for him, that is and I went home. It was over, I thought looking at the card. I would call the lawyer tomorrow and begin proceedings for dissolution. Irreconcilable difference was good enough for the Hollywood bunch; it would do for me. No reason to open old wounds with long tale of who did wrong by whom.

Folake met me at the lounge. She was dressed to the teeth – pressed tailored trousers and ruffled sleeveless blouse. She had her hair up, not a strand out of place. Her ear-rings, the drop type, were elegant. As was her light make-up. Maybe she assumed flip-flops would modulate her appearance, but it didn’t. She smelled like fresh flowers (did she just take her bath?), which reminded me that I meant to send Titi some orchids for being unavailable to her yesterday. Folake was making a statement – she was all about making statements. For a minute, my heart stopped. This woman would follow in my aunt’s lead and take my child from me!

I stood up and tried to smile. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks.” She sat down in the armchair next to me: legs crossed, eyes staring pointedly into my face.

I sat down too. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” She tapped her knees.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“Okay.” She must be choking on all that civility as much as I was.

“Can I order you something to drink? Juice, maybe?”

I wanted some alcohol myself. I needed something to do with my fingers besides clenching and unclenching Fashokun’s card that I had rumpled into a mould.

“No, thanks.”

“Okay.” I exhaled. It was time to get things over with. “So, which way forward?”

“Pardon me?”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Here? I hope this isn’t an attempt at ask me to get an abortion,” she snapped.

“Of course not! Jeez, Folake! Why would I do that?”

“How should I know Dayo? I don’t know who you are anymore.” Her eyes glanced briefly at the crumpled mould in my hands. “So what options has your mind generated about where we go from here?”

“I don’t know. I do have questions though.”

“Okay. Let’s hear it.” She sat up, her guard on.

“Where would we raise the child?”

“Where do you have in mind?”

“Here in London? If that’s not too much to ask.”

She grinned at me, with icy eyes. “Suddenly you want me to move down here? Wow. How nice of you, sweetie. Once upon a time, you carried on like the mere thought of it would kill you.”

“Folake, please.”

She waved me off. “Any other question?”

I took in a deep breath, before mumbling. “Is there a chance of reconciliation?”

She laughed. “Say that again?”

I knew she heard, so I didn’t repeat myself.

Her cackle jeered at me, a victorious hail of a woman that had her opponent grovelling. 

“Dayo, in case you’re having memory loss, may I remind you that you have had two chances with me. What did you do with them? You threw them back in my face, that’s what. Now, you want another opportunity? Sorry dear. In my book, two strikes and you’re out.” She leaned back, smirking like a Chesney cat. “By the way, what brought it about? Titi doesn’t want you anymore?”

I glared at her, my eyes squinting in fury. “I only needed confirmation.”

She promptly returned the look. “Well, there you have it. So, it’s settled.”

Dropping my head into my hands, I checked my anger. I really didn’t want to fight with Folake. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Yeah right!”

“Seriously, I am.”

“Whatever. Do you have another question or are we done?”

“One more. How do we tell them?”

“Them who?”

“Our parents. About the baby. About the divorce.”

“I’ll leave that up to you to decide. I’m sure my father would love to hear from you.” She stood up. “I feel a bit faint so I’m going to head on up so I can go lie down.”

I rose too. “Sure. Can I call you later to find out how you are?”

“Whatever you want to do, Dayo.”

I watched her catwalk away, a little relieved that meeting didn’t get ugly. Now, how to break the news to mom and dad . . . plus Titi.

©Flourishing Florida

FUNMI: Mother-In-Law Woes

“I don’t want a typical Nigerian wedding,” I blurted out to Ebuka who had a pen and notepad in his hands, trying to make notes of our plans.

“And what’s a typical Nigerian wedding my darling?” He laughed.

“I’m sure you’ve attended loads of them. The one where there are a thousand guests, five hundred of them wearing aso ebi, and mostly unknown to the couple. There’s loud music playing on one corner and the musician is busy singing praises of the list of wealthy people he can get his hands on. Typical Nigerian weddings are carnivals!” I exclaimed.

Ebuka burst into laughter.

“I think you just described a typical Yoruba wedding.” He had a glint in his eyes that signalled the beginning of a teasing episode.

“You’re just being tribalistic,” I pushed him playfully. “I have just described a typical Nigerian wedding, take it or leave it. Do you want me to go on?”

He shook his head still smiling. “O.K now we know what we don’t want, what do we really want?”

All the dreams I had conjured in my head came flooding back. I have dreamt of my wedding so many times. I rehearsed the dreams at every opportunity.

“I would like a simple classy wedding. Not more than 150 guests. It would be perfect in a garden with maybe a fountain somewhere in the middle and soft music playing in the background. It would be nice if we can have both the ceremony and reception at the same venue. The meal should be buffet style and then we dance our hearts out till we can take no more.” I was smiling and Ebuka was nodding.

“I like it. In fact, that’s what we should do. I’ve always hated weddings that have too many guests. This would be intimate and romantic.”

Ebuka dragged me up and twirled me around. I laughed. This was the best part of our relationship; he made me laugh so easily. We embraced; my heart was racing so fast. His face was close to mine. Then, there was a knock.

We reluctantly let go of each other, Marta walked in with a smile.

“Sorry lovebirds, am I interrupting something?”

We both said no at once.

“Come on in please.” I managed to find my voice.

Marta handed a wedding magazine to me.

“I found this when I went to the shops. I thought it might be useful”.

Marta was ever so sweet. I never wanted a flat mate but my life without her would have been so drab. She was not nosy but always willing to help.

“Awww, thank you so much dear. You’re so thoughtful.”

“Oh come on,” she said with a wave of her hands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my room is a scary movie and I need to get it tidy.”

“Are we expecting someone?” I teased and Marta winked at me and shrugged as she walked out.

“She’s so lovely.” Ebuka whispered. I nodded.

“Now shall we take up from where we stopped?” He pulled me close again and I drank in his scent.

My phone rang.

Oh joy! Why did we have to have so many interruptions? I ignored the phone and placed my head on his chest. It rang the second time and it occurred to me that the tone was the special one I used for my mum.

“It’s my mum.” I whispered into his chest.

“Pick it up.” Ebuka replied and nudged me to ahead. He looked slightly disappointed though.

“My dear, bawo ni?” My mum’s voice was chirpy on the phone.

“I’m very fine mummy.”

“‘And how’s Ebuka?’”

“He’s fine too. We were just talking about wedding plans.”

“Oh that’s fantastic.”

My mum was very excited about me getting married, as her fist daughter. I filled her in on my discussion and plans with Ebuka and she sounded happy with our plans. She told me if there was anything we wanted her to do; I just had to let her know. After she updated me about the family, I handed the phone to Ebuka and I watched as she flirted with my mum.  I liked that they had a good rapport. We ended the phone call and went back to our planning. By the time we were done, Ebuka had filled a number of pages in the notepad. Things were looking good. We were both in agreement about the sort of wedding we wanted.

I had heard how most couples fight when planning their wedding but it seemed this was going to be an easy task for us. I liked that about our relationship. We could talk through anything.

*    *    *    *    *

“Ebuka is picking me up in thirty minutes, what do I wear?” I shouted into the phone in panic as Lola tried to calm me down. I looked at the many outfits I had laid out on my bed and none of them seemed fitting enough. I wished Marta was home, she would have picked something for me in a matter of minutes.

“Just pick out a nice dress Funmi. You have loads of them.”

“Thanks for being so helpful.” I snapped into the phone.

Lola burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe you’re being this nervous. OK, OK, what of that blue dress you bought from Next recently? It suits you perfectly.”

It was one of the outfits I had condemned on my bed. I took another long look at it and I knew there was nothing wrong with the outfit. I had just needed a second opinion.

“Thanks dear, I knew I could count on you.’’ I said as I hung up.

I was meeting Ebuka’s mum for the first time since we got engaged and started talking about wedding plans. Saying I was nervous was an understatement. I wanted to make a good impression on her. Ebuka kept telling me not to worry and that everything would go perfectly.

The door bell rang as I put the finishing touches to my makeup. I grabbed my purse and ran to the door.

“You look lovely.” His gaze swept over me approvingly.

“Thanks,” I smiled at him. His words gave my confidence level a boost.

Ebuka’s mum welcomed us with smiles and a huge embrace at the door. She seemed very happy to see me so I heaved a sigh of relief quietly.

Inside, the living room was not what I expected it to be. Ebuka’s mum must have recently redecorated the place, and she had guests. Four other older women were seated. They were affluently dressed and were having a drink from what looked like an expensive bottle of wine. I felt like an intruder and stopped in my tracks.

Ebuka edged me forward and greeted them in a familiar manner.

“Aunties, please meet Funmi, my fiancée,” he said smiling.

They all greeted me good naturedly.

One of them said “Nwunye anyi, you’re welcome.”

I understood she was saying ‘our wife, you’re welcome’. Ebuka had been giving me some crash courses on the Ibo language. I curtsied; not knowing if that was the appropriate thing to do. Ebuka led me to a seat and went to get me a drink on his mum’s order.

“My dear, we were just talking about your wedding before you came in. It’s good you’re here, you can join us.”

I smiled sheepishly. I suddenly felt outnumbered and slightly intimidated. All these women were talking about my wedding plans. What would they have to say about my ideas?

Ebuka walked in with a pack of juice and glasses for both of us. His mum and her friends continued.

“We’re planning something huge for you. You see it has to be big since he’s our first son!” she exclaimed and her friends edged her on.

“That day, my head tie will go in several directions.” She gestured with her hands and got up to catwalk around the room. If I was feeling more comfortable, I might have laughed.

“I’m planning to invite all my friends and they must wear my ‘asebi’”. She pronounced the aso ebi in a funny way.

This wasn’t the wedding Ebuka and I talked about and he just looked on. He needed to say something before this woman got her hopes too high.

Instead, I heard him say “Tell them mummy. Your only son is getting married and it must be the talk of the town.”

He was seated beside me so I pinched him as a signal to shut up. He either did not get the message or he ignored it because he kept fuelling everything his mother was saying.

“Funmi dear, what sort of musician would you like? We can bring one from Nigeria, that’s not a problem.”

I smiled not knowing what response to give her.

Ebuka came to my rescue. “We’ll decide about that and let you know mum.”

That was the only sensible thing I had heard from Ebuka since we got to his mother’s. The planning went on and on around me and I felt like a total outsider in the conversation. These women were planning my wedding without checking if that was what I wanted. I was fuming, but I managed to keep my cool until we left a few uncomfortable hours later.

*    *    *    *    *

“Are you OK?” Ebuka asked in the car, on our way back to my place. “You’ve been quiet since we left my mum’s place.”

I was boiling inside. He couldn’t be serious about that question, after all the stunts he pulled, aiding his mum and her friends.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I snapped.

He looked confused.

“Why did you let your mum continue describing the typical Nigerian wedding when you know we already have our plans?”

“Babe, what are you talking about?”

I was beginning to get very upset at him. Why was he feigning ignorance?

“What am I talking about? You let your mum and her friends plan our wedding and the only thing you said was we’d get back to them about our choice of a musician. What happened to trying to let her know that was not the kind of wedding we wanted?”

“Come on babe,” he reached for my left hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know that was not our plan and I won’t let my mum decide what happens at our wedding. I just didn’t want to embarrass her while her friends were there.”

He seemed to make sense and I gave him a shadow of a smile. But I was still upset.

“Funmi, you need to trust me on this. We agreed we don’t want a carnival as a wedding and that stands. Why was I writing everything in the notepad?”

I felt like a child. He actually couldn’t have spoken to his mum while we were all there. He also didn’t need to fuel it though.

“You shouldn’t have encouraged her though,” I said quietly.

“I was only teasing; I didn’t want the visit to be awkward. Imagine how it would look if we had both been quiet as they talked.”

Again, he made sense and I didn’t. Why did it feel like I had no point when I did?

We’ve just had our first wedding planning fight, I thought. We both remained silent the rest of the drive to my house. I knew from the start that Ebuka’s mum was domineering and opinionated. Could I cope with her forever? I was beginning to get a headache just thinking of dealing with her as my mother-in-law. I needed to sort these feelings and be sure the past was not clouding my present state of mind.

We got to my place and Ebuka brought the car to a halt. He didn’t want to come inside. I asked him why and he told me he had to settle a few things. I shrugged as I watched him speed off. I hoped this would be the first and last argument during the wedding plans. Life can be ironic. Just two days before, I had thought we were not like the couples who would fight over wedding plans. Maybe, it just made us human after all.

I retrieved my key from my purse and let myself into the flat. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my eye caught a letter addressed to me on the table. I looked for the sender’s address and opened with shaking hands. I scanned through the letter quickly and gasped at the contents. A superintendent from the Metropolitan police wanted me to know their findings about Maureen’s death and her killer...

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