This chapter I dedicate to Tirza, Chixy and the Reading Fan Club. You are awesome and I hope you have fun reading this.
Guys there is more drama. Omg. You will love this chapter. The love overflowing… Yo!! It”s hot. Looking forward to your comments and please share this story. Share it to everyone you know. xoxo
“I think your mother hates me.” I say aloud.
I lift my hand and touch my hair. Even my hair knows Ian’s mother hates me. It’s shrunk to half it’s usual length, all because I couldn’t stop sweating in anxiety. That woman…
“She hates me for everything I am. Like before I thought that maybe she could be nicer today but no she hates me. It’s official.”
“She…. hmmmm… She does not hate you.” Ian responds.
“Are you hearing yourself? Are we on the same planet?”
I look at him and shake my head.
“No. We need to talk about this Ian.”
“We will. Come and sit on my laps babe. Come on.”
I can tell Ian’s not concentrating at the conversation at hand. We are sitting in the living room of his home; I on the floor in front of him while he watches the news and pretends to concentrate on the conversation at hand. Why am I even here right now? Gosh I am so tired and I just need a hot bath and some sleep. Nothing more nothing less. After the weird day I’ve had I deserve it. I touch Ian’s knee and he looks at me.
“It will be okay. She just needs some accepting to do, but it wasn’t that bad.” He says.
Is he out of his mind? What planet is he really on? It’s like he’s choosing to ignore what really happened. Oh my. He smiles before he looks back at the television.
“Were you at the restuarant with me? Like there there?” I ask him.
“Oh my gosh Ian. You have to be serious.”
“Babe, I saw what happened. I was there. And I am appalled by what happened too but believe me it will be okay.” He says.
“Ian, honey, your mother hates me.” I tell him
“She does not. It could be she was just tired.”
This man is out of his mind. Gosh.
“Huh?” I ask. “Tired? Ian I do not know any people who get so tired that they complain about someone’s skin and age.”
“Come on Sonia. Don’t take it to heart. Mom is difficult sometimes.”
Difficult? Sometimes? Who the hell does he think he’s talking to?
“Mum will accept all this and you two will get along just fine soon enough.” He continues. “She doesn’t hate you. Hate is too strong a word to use.”
“She’s made it clear that….”
He cuts me off, “Sonia mum says alot of things. Most times its things she doesn’t mean. Besides I kinda understand where she’s coming from.”
“She’s a mother. She just found out I found a woman I love so much….”
“What? Just found out?” I ask, cutting him off. “Ian we have been together for a while.”
“I didn’t mean it like that Sonia. You’re complicating things.”
“How? You’re acting like she just knew I existed yet I’ve been around for a long time.”
“You’re complicating and twisting my words. Let me finish.”
“What I meant was she just found out I found a woman I love so much that I’m willing to move countries for. It hurt her very much to be honest. She didn’t think that would be possible. She always wanted us to be near her and dad at the end of it all.”
“But that’s not the only thing that shocked her.”
“I know. Your skin and age also added fuel to her fear of losing her son.”
“You’re not dying. And I’m not some cougar lady, whatever they are called pouncing on you.”
He looks at me and smiles.
“I know that but I’m still her first born. Her son.”
“No one said you’re not.”
“Then you must try and understand how she feels. It’s like you’re taking over.”
“For crying out loud Ian. You’re a big man. You’re old enough to make choices. She seems to think I’m out to ruin your life.”
“Come on. You’re taking this too seriously.”
“Ian she wants us to break up.”
“She didn’t say those words exactly.”
“She wants us to settle and have kids immediately.”
“Mom is old fashioned. We will do what we want because we are the ones in love. What she says doesn’t matter.”
“Are you serious? Ian your mom told us to stay engaged longer because we want to enjoy life and travel!!” I say aloud. “Did you actually hear her or you chose to ignore her?”
“I heard her. And I defended you babe. You saw me. You heard me.”
“What defense? What? You laughingly told her you were ready. Who would believe you?”
“What do you want me to do Sonia? What? Tell her to leave? Tell her I’m decided and I’ll never come back? What? She’s my mother.”
“How about you being serious for once and telling her point blank that she had no choice but to accept this. Or she will miss out on a lot of things.”
“Now that’s harsh.”
“Compared to the racist remarks your mother has put me through I think my words are actually kind.”
“Let’s it go. Just let it go.”
“Ian she’s your mother. She will be my mother in law one day soon. This has to be fixed sooner rather than later. You need to talk to her. As soon as possible.”
“Sonia. Gosh. Just let it go please. She means no harm. Nothing.”
“Because you’re not the one going through this. She’s still your mother.”
“Exactly. She’s my mother. She’s still a mother. If you had yours and she acted like this towards me you would say the same thing.”
That’s what greets him when he’s says those words. He exhales, closes his eyes and covers his face with his hands.
“Shit.” He says. “Sonia….”
I get up to my feet and walk out of the room and head to the bedroom. I have had enough of this. I don’t switch on the bedroom light as I walk into the bedroom. I quickly take my clothes off, leave them on the floor as I walk to the bathroom. The hot water from the shower caresses my skin and I groan as the events of the day flood my mind.
I can’t believe he can’t see what’s happening right in front of his face. His mother hates me. His mother is a racist. His mother doesn’t approve of our engagement. And all he can say is she is scared she will lose him? To me? I’m not her rival.
What’s with mothers-in-law? What a monster.
And for Ian to tell me if had my mother around then maybe I would understand what’s happening is just plain wrong on so many levels. He knows how I feel about losing my parents. Dangling that in my face is downright disrespectful. I wish my mother was around every day. I wish she was around to see what I’ve become today. I wish she could tell me she is proud of me. I wish. I wish everyday but it won’t happen at all.
I expected Ian to understand that. I wish his mother would treat me with the respect I deserve. I’m a human being, black and old as she may call me she should realise I also have feelings just like she does and to think she got worse as we ate lunch makes me wish I had enough strength to slap her. No one should treat me the way she has.
Gosh why me God. Have I not been a good child. Have I not been true and faithful. Why do I have to go through this. Shouldn’t this be the best time of my life?
My thoughts wander to Ian’s mother. And I sigh as I remember our lunch. The woman took it upon herself to ask me the most awkward questions; but the worst was when she asked about my family.
“Ian had told me your parents died when you were young. I’m so sorry about that.” She had said.
I had felt that maybe she would be sympathetic. But then she asked the horrid question.
“Do you think if your parents were alive they would have accepted this marriage? As in don’t get me wrong marrying a younger man is fine but is this allowed in your culture?”
I had nothing to tell her. I kept silent. Ian said nothing either. Maybe he was too shocked to understand what his mother has just done to me. He stood up from the table citing the bathroom as his reason. And he left me to fend her off. I had felt like slapping her back to her country. But instead I smiled. She was looking for a way to get under my skin and she almost did today. When she realised the parent question wasn’t going to illicit an answer she took it a step further.
“Ian explained you have a complicated cultural marriage process. So when Ian comes to meet your family for the marriage talks. What happens if the man’s family complains about stuff about the bride and her family. What happens?”
“Ian told us they will charge him some amount based on everything you’ve accomplished in life. But you’re older won’t you be too expensive?” She continued. “Sounds like slavery to me.”
By they time Ian came back I was livid and she was happy with her result.
Gosh I hate her. But then again I don’t hate her. She’s to be my mother in law unless the relationship ends.
Maybe it should end. Then there might be some peace in my life because I don’t think I’m ready to fight Ian’s mother.
Today is the worst day to make decisions. I just need to sleep it all off.
What was supposed to be a good day turned out to be a bad day. Sort of bad day. Firstly, working late with The Tyrant -as if I don’t have a life because he doesn’t; and as if that wasn’t bad enough, finding out I wouldn’t be able to go home because my car decided today would be the perfect day to not go on. I swear my car gets moods when it feels like it’s a human female too.
Piece of metal trash.
And the icing on the cake with a cherry on top? Masulani driving me home because the mechanic informed me he would have to pick up the car tomorrow.
The Tyrant is driving me home.
Only Mr Forty would have made the day better by taking me home if he was free, but then the old man told me he had to “attend some-out-of-the-blue dinner” with a few friends. With the wife of course. Friends my pretty ass. Liar. I know he lied. I am more surprised by the fact that the man thinks he can lie to me today. Men are absolute trash. His wife probably threatened him into staying home. Typical of clingy wives.
So it’s gonna be a long night alone. In a few minutes I’ll be home and in bed. I can’t wait to leave this Tyrant’s car and hug a pillow.
I hold onto my handbag tightly. What a heavy bag, I have in it least two pairs of heels and other things that I usually leave in the back seat of my car. I couldn’t leave things in a parked car at the office. I need to stop carrying extra things in the car. I even had underwear in the back seat, for those just in case moments. A lady never knows what might happen in the middle of the night.
Masulani clears his throat and I look at him, making out the shape of his head from the little light available. Serious in the office and serious when gripping the steering wheel. Scaring people in the office, probably scaring the road too. I wonder if he ever has fun. Does he know what the word means? The man rarely smiles but the times I’ve seen him smile I forget he is the serious man who always demands perfection in everything. I can almost hear his thoughts right now. Probably not amused he has to drive me home as if it’s my fault my car is stupid. But he insisted he would do it. He wanted to do it.
“I have to make sure you get home safe and alive.” He said when I was about to call for a taxi.
He said he would take me, but his tone wasn’t welcoming either; he said it as if he had more sensible things to do like kissing his woman goodnight – if he has one. Does he have one? Tyrant or not, an attractive man like him can’t be all alone. Such men have doting women around them, cooking and opening legs. Funny thing about this even though he doesn’t talk about her, no one has ever seen or heard of any women connected to Masulani Jere. Even all events we hosted had him showing up alone – and serious; plus he has never implied that he has a special lady at home or away. The man keeps to himself and that’s how it’s always been since I joined the company. Plain rude if you ask me but no one’s asking.
It’s awkward silence in the car. No music. No words. Gosh most people would prefer to say some random shit and hope the person next to them to talk till kingdom come but Masulani’s mouth is stuck shut. Or maybe he wants to concertrate on his driving and not kill us both.
Masulani clears his throat again. This man will leave his throat dry at this rate.
“So you love music?” He asks.
What a horrible random question. Still a question. I look at him and smile, still facing the road, but I am sure he is waiting for my response.
“Yes. I do.”
His left hand presses a button on the steering whell and Macky II’s voice comes on. I look at Masulani kind of impressed. He is not so out of it guess. He must sense my eyes are on him because he turns to face me quickly before he looks back at the road.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Nothing.” I respond.
“You sure nothing is wrong?”
“You listen to Macky II?” I ask him.
“Of course I do. He is a great artist.”
“Are you sure you know his music? Or maybe this someone else’s disc and you just played it because music is not your thing?”
“Are you kidding me? I know his music pretty well. I know a number of Zambian songs. Good ones too.”
“Wow. Figured you for a western type of music kind of man.”
“What? I give off that vibe?” He says. “I love Zambian music. Support local. Local is laka.”
“I am definitely impressed.”
“And that’s a good thing?” He asks.
He glances at me and looks back at the road. I do not know how he can spare me a glance at the speed he’s moving at.
“Well.” I say. “It takes a lot to impress me so yes, it is a good thing.”
The corners of his lips bend and I think I see him smile but it’s too dark to confirm.
“Thank you for setting the record straight.” I tell him.
“Now I can tell everyone in the office that you’re a Zambian human being.”
“That bad huh?”
“That bad.” I smile.
We keep silent and listen to the music. He gets me home minutes later. Masulani parks in my empty parking spot in front of my cottage.
“Thank you for the ride.” I tell him.
He nods and shrugs as if it means nothing to him, getting out of his way to make sure I get home safely.
“You’re welcome.” He responds. “How will you get to work tomorrow?”
“A friend will drop me off I’m sure.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well good night Mr Ma..su..lani Jere.”
I say his name slowly, lasting longer than I am suppose to on each syllable.
“Good night Yolanda.”
I slowly get out of the car, close the door and walk to my house. I hear his car start as I walk into the house. I close the door and smile.
Definitely worth it I think.
Not so bad a day after all.
“Dinner was amazing babe.”
My heart does a little heart dance.
“Of course it had too much salt but I still loved it.”
I slap James’s arm and he laughs.
“I’m just kidding. I swear I’m kidding.”
“You better be.”
I know he’s joking. He loves my cooking and now that my mother is around it means she gets to help me out with the traditional foods. Especially the ones I don’t know how to cook yet. I know James loves his traditional food more than anything and he tolerates my need for variety when it comes to food more often than not.
I rarely cook, I hate cooking. I hate the task so much that I let the maid do the work on most days unless I am in the mood but today I did it. I cooked and James loved it. In your face bed rest. I move slowly, placing my head onto his chest listening to his heartbeat. James picks up a book from his bedside table and opens it. He loves to read novels when he finds the time. When it’s silent in the house, in our bedroom right before bed.
Minutes pass by in silence, I feel James’s hand on my back making small circles and for a moment I think about Mable and her marriage. Is Chinyama as loving as James is? I know she always tells the ladies and I how Chinyama is her roommate and not her husband. How sex for them is on a schedule because he is ever too busy with his job to concerntrate on her. Is he still cheating on her or he truly is busy I wonder.
Looking at how James is with me, I wonder if he will change one day and I will be the one in Mable’s shoes complaining about him. Besides I am pregnant now. Chinyama changed when Mable was pregnant right? Will that happen to me too? Or maybe James will wait like Chinyama did. Years from now he will cheat when I’ve had more children. I know it’s too early to tell, after all I have been married for almost a year while Mable has been in it for more than a decade.
Mama was right, the way James loves and cares about me is more than other women will ever get. He has always been there for me no matter what. The friend I could always count on and now the husband that sits with me before he goes to sleep. I should be appreciative of him more often. I have been a bad ungrateful wife. Selfish too. I do not want to lose my marriage just because I have less feelings for him than he does for me. I should be happy he takes care of me no matter what I do. Even when I cook him the trashiest meal. So many memories of James and I. I giggle and James’s hand stills.
“What?” He asks. “What’s funny?”
“Remember the time I tried cooking lasagne to impress you and it came out so horrible we had to go out for take away?” I ask.
“Ahh. Like I would ever forget the night you tried to kill me with black food.” He responds.
I slap his chest.
“Ouch woman.” He says.
“It’s your fault I burnt the food.”
“I’m thinking the food was inedible so it had to get burnt.” He laughs. “We should be thanking God he made sure the food got burnt.”
“You’re horrible. The food was perfect. It was your fault.”
I sit up on my knees and look at him, my young at heart husband of mine. He places the book on the bed beside him and he looks at me.
“Well I think I made up for that mistake. I married you didn’t I?” He asks.
He definitely did. I smile, lean in closer to him and kiss him. He still tastes of dinner. But that doesn’t matter. He pulls me closer and kisses me deeply and I let him. His lips move slow over mine. He stops and looks into my eyes
“I love you Thandiwe.” He whispers.
“I love you too James.” I lie
I open my eyes and notice the other side of the bed empty. I stretch and groan.
“Sangu?” I call out.
There is no response in the room.
“Sangu?” I call out louder.
Sangu is still not yet home? I yawn and look at my wrist watch. It’s almost 22hrs and Sangu is not home. So unlike him to not tell me he will be home late. I pick up my phone and notice there are no missed calls or unread messages from him either. Unlike him. I sit up and dial his number. He does not pick up.
I get up from the bed and check every room of the house before I confirm he’s definitely not home yet. I walk to the kitchen and head for the refrigerator. I need to cook now. I wish I hadn’t slept earlier. I slept the minute I got home hoping Sangu would come home early and then I would make us a quick meal for supper. I notice everything is were it should be meaning he’s not been home since morning. Where the hell is he? Come to think of it he hasn’t called me all day and he always calls. Kind of weird. I dial his number again. No answer.
Maybe he can’t hear his mobile phone ringing. Office line could work I think. I dial his office line and it goes unanswered as well.
“Probably driving.” I tell myself.
I chuckle and shake my head. He must be driving home right now. I’m sure he’s fine. I send him a message asking if he can pass through any open restaurant and get supper for two. He does not respond. I check the door and windows making sure everything is locked and head back to the bedroom, crawling back into bed in my suit. I don’t feel like taking anything off. I dial his number one more time and there is no answer again. I’m sure he will call me when he’s almost home.
I stare at the ceiling. I won’t sleep till I hear his voice. Why won’t he pick up? I dial his number again and this time he picks up on the first ring.
“Hey.” I say. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. You okay?”
“I’m great. Did you get my message?”
“Where are you?”
“You sound tired. You slept?”
“Yes. And you’re late. No call from you. Where are you? What’s up?”
He hesitates for some seconds before he responds.
“Uhh…. work things, you know how it goes with emergencies. Plus mom called me over.”
I hear voices talking on the line behind him and he grunts at whatever the person tells him.
“Oh… Is she okay?”
“Yeah. She was feeling sick earlier. High blood pressure. But she’ll be okay.”
“That’s sad. I hope she gets better soon.”
“Yea. So I’ll be home late. Sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ll be coming.”
“Okay. Cool. That’s fine.”
“I will get the dinner.”
“Great. Call me when you’re here.”
“I will. Bye.”
The line cuts before I say bye. I look at the phone. Whatever just happened. I place the phone beside me and look up at the ceiling. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Protect him Lord. In everything he does protect him. Bless us. Watch over us. Show me the way. The light. Please guide me to the right path. Amen.” I whisper.
I stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before I doze off to sleep.
It must be the kiss.
That’s the only reason I am doing this.
That’s what’s making me feel this way. The kiss started something that had to end. Something had to be done about the kiss.
I can’t stop. Wanting. Needing. This is it. Winner takes all. His lips over mine, his hands caressing my body, molding me, touching me and to think I’m still dressed. Why did I tell him I needed the light off? Is it because I only wanted to feel it all and not to see it? Remember every second of it. I feel his hand on the back of my neck and his breath on my face, his lips against mine.
“I thought you were angry with me.” He whispers.
I smile in the dark. I know he can’t see the smile on my face. It’s for the best. His lips touch mine, slowly, gently kissing me while his hand plays games with my neck holding me in place. His hands trail down my hands and to my waist, he pulls me in closer, chest to chest. I touch his cheeks, I can’t have enough of him. I want more. He stops and he turns me around, my back to his front as he kisses my neck. I can’t help but bite my lip, his lips have aroused feelings I thought no longer existed.
I feel his hands untie my wrap dress belt on my back, he gently pulls the dress and the dress opens right up my front exposing my skin to cool air. He turns me around to kiss me again as he pushes the dress off my shoulders, down my arms and it falls to the floor. He takes my hands into his and kisses them, I wish I could watch him do it. Maybe next time. Definitely next time.
He leads me to the bed, laying me down on it slowly. I let him move me onto the middle of the bed, the bed creaks with his weight as I let him in between my thighs. I reach out for him in the dark and touch his arm. His hands squeeze my waist, he has me yearning for more. His hands roam higher up my body until they get to my bra, it’s a simple thing for him, no straps to fight with. And just like dress, he takes the bra off in less than a minute. His hands move to my panties, I’m glad I wore the high legged lace panties. If only he could see me now. He grabs my panties at the waist and I hear something rip. He rips through the lace and I’m soon naked on the bed. How erotic. He kisses my neck, his tongue licking spots his lips have touched.
“I’m sorry about the panties.” He whispers. “They were in the way.”
“Those were expensive.” I respond slowly.
“I will get you plenty more. Tomorrow if you want.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
I giggle. I feel his smile against my skin. His lips move down my chest to my stomach. They touch the stretchmarks that have become tattoos on my once beautiful skin. That’s why I don’t want the light on. My body is no longer the way it used to be. I might be beautiful during the day when I’m in my lace dresses but not when they are off. My body looks ugly with all the stretchmarks on display. Not today. Another time. He does the most romantic thing and he kisses them, his hands touch each mark and his lips follow.
“Your marks are beautiful.” He whispers. “You are beautiful.”
I almost laugh. If only he could see them in the light he wouldn’t be be able to say that again.
“You are beautiful Mable.”
“You are beautiful.”
I grab the collars of his shirt and pull him closer. His scent is beautiful. I love it. It’s so him. He gives me a quick kiss before he gets off of me leaving me on the bed. I do not see where he is but I hear whatever he’s doing. He’s taking off his clothes. If the light was on I know I would be in awe. He is an attractive man. I feel his hand on my thigh, caressing my thigh and then he comes back onto the bed, back between my legs. He’s naked too, skin to skin, body to body.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispers again
He kisses me, this time not slow, he kisses me with the intensity of a man in need. Hard and deep his lips kiss me over and over again giving me chills that I don’t think will ever leave my skin. I put my hands on his shoulders and I feel a scar on his left shoulder, I trace the scar from his shoulder to his shoulder blade with my thumb. It’s a long scar, I massage the spot softly and he groans.
He kisses me again. Gosh can this get any better I wonder. I still want more of him. I wrap my legs around him trapping him in. His lips leave mine and from my spot in the darkness I can make out his eyes looking down at me. His eyes looking into mine as if waiting for something. Anything. Our breaths deep, sweat on our bodies. I don’t know what he’s waiting for. Our eyes stay locked for I don’t know how long, it’s effect set. No one is leaving this bed unhappy.
“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says.
He kisses me. He lifts his head. I feel his eyes on me.
“Thank you.” He whispers
He kisses me again.
“For what?” I ask breathlessly.
“For being you.” He responds.
He kisses me again. Longer. Harder.
“Well then…” I say happily. “Show me how thankful you are.”
And he kisses me again…..
To be continued…
©The Nkani Chick 2018