I hope you enjoy this chapter. To the comments afterwards. xoxo..
16th January 2016
“Where are you off to dressed like that?”
I pause and look at my mother, rolling my eyes as I give her my best smile. She doesn’t fall for it. Gosh I was hoping I could leave the house without bumping into her this morning. That damn tingling mother sense of hers. I have things to do.
“Young lady. Where are you off to?”
“Off to work mama. The boutique.”
“Thandiwe.” She starts.
“No. The boutique can’t run itself mama. I need to be there. I’ll see you soon. Not going for long neh.” I respond.
“Dressed like that?”
I look at her disapproving face and look down at my outfit. Nothing wrong. The tight dress is not that bad. The green bandage dress not only hugs my body in all the right places but makes my skin look radiant and paired with my gold strap sandals and my blond curls I look like a Zambian goddess. Nothing wrong with what I’m wearing. What is wrong with her and her rules? She forgets she’s living in my house. All her rules don’t apply here. I’m a married woman.
“You have no respect.” She says
“At least I’m dressed mama.”
“That thing is too tight.” She says. “You need to change and wear something comfortable.”
“It’s not that tight. See, it’s okay. I still fit.”
And so what?
“And who else knows that apart from my husband, you and my friends? Gosh mama I look good. I feel good today. Barely had morning sickness. I feel amazing.”
“And that’s the reason you want to dress like that?”
“Those heels are not good for you either.”
“So pregnant women don’t wear heels?”
“Those are too high.” She says, pointing at my feet. “Way too high.”
“Calm down mother.”
“You need to change. Dress and heels. Wear something loose. Flats too.”
“Mama,I’ve been wearing these dresses for years. James loves it that I take care of myself. He finds nothing wrong in me wearing my tight dresses.”
“But you are pregnant.”
“Exactly. I’m nearing three months. Barely showing that I’m even pregnant. I need to enjoy all these things before I am unable to fit.” I tell her.
“You have no respect for your marriage.” She argues. “There is no man who wants his wife dressed like that when she’s pregnant.”
“Mama.” I sigh. “Look. I’m okay. I needed to wear this to feel amazing huh. I’m okay. No pain. The dress fits me perfectly. Besides I might meet the girls for something today.”
“Again. Thandiwe. You need to rest often not play like you’re a single woman. That’s the problem with dealing with friends who aren’t married.”
“I’m not playing. I’m not drinking either. My friends didn’t do anything. I’m just meeting the ladies later on maybe. It’s a maybe.”
“You need to accept you’re a married woman and that you’re pregnant Thandiwe. Your friends don’t need to see you everyday. Your husband needs you more. Your baby even more.”
“Gosh mama. The baby is stuck in my tummy for seven more months or less. My husband understands my need to work and see my friends.”
“And does he understand your need to dress like you’re trying to attract a man?”
“What are you implying mother?”
“That you don’t dress like you’re married woman. Or like you’re pregnant. You need to change that.”
“And I will when it’s time.”
She shakes her head, her eyes reflecting disappointment. This is why I didn’t want her here. Her judgement and rules aren’t needed here. I just want my life back. Or some part of it at least. If I’m going to stay pregnant I might as well look good at it. Mini dresses and all. Who cares. It’s me carrying the baby. Me. My body. My rules. I don’t need this stress right now.
I turn away and head towards the front door. In a few hours I’ll bring her a bottle of wine and she will be smiling, all thoughts of my dress gone. That’s a good plan. Wine. And juice for me.
“I’m so disappointed in you.” Mama yells behind me.
Did this woman just…. I turn to face her horrified. I have a husband in this house and she’s screaming at this time of morning?
“Mama. Please. Lower your voice. James is still asleep. You remember James? My husband?”
“So he’s hasn’t seen you in that dress?” She asks shocked.
“He has mama. He has. He saw me choose it. He saw me wear it. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“You are embarrassing him.”
“Calm down. If my husband is fine with it then why shouldn’t you be?”
I don’t see why she is getting all worked up about my dress. She looks at me disgusted. Whatever is going on with her. I walk to her and kiss her cheek. I give her a smile and she just looks at me. She will not make me change my outfit. Hell no. I might as well enjoy the way I look now before I get as big as as an elephant. I might as well remind myself I am still a beautiful woman. Gosh I didn’t ask to be pregnant but I’m stuck with the baby now. So I will do what I want to do even if that means dressing up in tight short dresses and high heels.
“See you later mama.” I say as I open the door.
She doesn’t say a word.
This is why I didn’t want her in my house.
“Madam I give you respect.” Yolanda yells.
“Iwe you’re too loud ala.” I tell her. “People will hear you.”
“Is Chinyama home?”
“No. But the kids and the maids are home. Keep your voice down.”
“Hangover ka? Vozifunila.*” She says loudly.
“Ahhh iwe. Nizako. Get busy. Catch up with time. Uka! Moba ni so chabe*.”
I look at her pretending to be remorseful about the loud remark. Maybe I should not have agreed to meet her at my home with the maids around. Yolanda and her mouth sometimes tends to run fast but my epic hangover wouldn’t let me think of leaving the house. I don’t think I ever want to drink wine again after the night I had.
Alcohol is the devil in a bottle. I am done.
Surprisingly Yolanda looks refreshed and ready to take over the world and yet she was on whisky last night. How is her makeup perfect at this time of morning. She looks like she had enough hours of sleep with some to spare. I don’t know how she does it. I wish I had her stamina. Looking chic and relaxed in a white shirt and white ripped jeans and sneakers I wonder what plans she has for the day. Knowing Yolanda she obviously has a date. Probably with the old guy. I hear a car door close and look over Yolanda’s shoulder. I see Sampa heading towards us, dark sunglasses shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun in an ankle length dark dress. I look at Yolanda raising my eyebrow.
“The hell… I thought you were coming alone Yoli.” I whisper.
Yolanda shrugs. “I have no car remember. And Sampa was free today so I convinced her to join me.”
“You did this on purpose.” I whisper to her.
Yolanda smiles and nods.
“I know. But I come bearing gifts.” She says quickly.
“What is this gift?” I ask.
“Sampa has wine. Perfect huh?”
I should never have agreed to this but Yolanda insisted when she called me early in the morning –to a badly hangovered version of me – to inform me she needed to see me to talk about last night. I was against it and she convinced me we needed to talk. It either me having to say yes and sleeping for a few more hours or having her show up unannounced minutes later. I chose the former -one never knows how Yolanda does it but she always finds a way to change your day.
But this is something else. Not prepared for this. Now she has Sampa with her in tow. Oh my gosh. The same Sampa who judged me last night? Sometimes I hate Yolanda. I should have lied to her instead.
Why am I only thinking about this now? This shitty hangover is why. Might as well put on a happy face. I shake my head and face Sampa making her way towards us.
Sampa and I hug.
Even Sampa looks refreshed. Gosh what kind of bodies do these women have. I’m still suffering from a major hangover and I look it in my t-shirt and leggings. I might have bathed but I still feel the world is no longer a stable place. I just want to sit and rest for the day. I stand aside and let the two ladies through.
I wish I was in bed.
“Wine for you.” Sampa says as she hands me a bottle of red wine.
Yolanda winks in my direction and I roll eyes.
“Let’s talk. Too much drama.” Yolanda claps excitedly.
“Iwe. Keep silent.”
I don’t want the maids to hear our conversation so I lead Yolanda and Sampa to the livingroom through the glass doors to the outside garden where shade and fresh breeze is aplenty and outside chairs and tables are already laid out under a huge avocado tree. Yolanda takes a seat across from me while Sampa sits in between us.
“You look horrible.” Sampa says. “What time did you get home?”
I shake my head and groan. I still need to rest. If they can see it then I really must look like crap.
“Late.” I respond. “I really have no idea what time I got home. But it was late.”
“You were that drunk? How long did you stay at the hideaway?” Sampa asks
“Long enough I think.” I laugh and wince at the same time.
“How did you get home if you were that drunk?” Sampa asks alarmed.
“With that mystery man hunk I saw you with huh?” Yolanda asks.
I smile and shake my head. That’s why Yolanda wanted to see me. To talk about the man I was with? She woke me up just to talk about a man I was drinking with in a club. My girls and nkani. Gosh. Nothing gets passed them. I was hoping Yolanda wouldn’t bring this up but she has with Sampa around to listen. Gosh.
“What mystery man?” Sampa asks, her eyes widening
“The man I saw her with. Looking all excited and shit. Mami you owe us ala.” Yolanda responds
I open my mouth to respond when I see the maid step out of the house with a tray in her hands, walking towards us. I keep silent. I wait until she places the juice boxes and glasses on the table, walks away and closes the door leading to us when I look at Yolanda.
“You need to speak low Yoli. You have no idea who is listening to us.” I tell her
“Hm iwe what’s the worst that can happen here?” She asks
“Iwe you haven’t heard of the stories of maids turning against their boss’s wives, just so that they can have a piece of the husband. Maids these days are threats.” I tell her
“Chinyama leave you for a maid? Ha. That would be the day.” She responds.
“These things happen. Maids are tuma sneaky evil humans with intentions of being as happy as us you know.” I argue. “I’m not in the mood to have them know my life in detail.”
“Calm down. Just breathe. They are gone. So tell us who the man was.” Yolanda says happily.
I shake my head. “Gosh Yolanda you’re like a dog with a bone.”
“You mean the b word with a D.” She whispers. “That’s me.”
“Tell us. Stop beating about the bush.” She argues
“It was Chinyama. Gosh. It was my husband I was with in the hideaway.”
“You lie.” Yolanda says.
Yolanda’s shocked face is priceless. Sampa exhales and a smile breaks across her face. At least one of us is happy.
“So you listened to me ka?” Sampa asks.
“Like I had a choice.” I retort.
“Chinyama came to the hideaway. That’s amazing.” Sampa asks. “So… Was he alone? Or was he looking for someone else?”
“No. He came to see me.” I tell them. “Alone.”
“He knew you were at the hideaway?” Yolanda asks.
“Yes.” I respond.
“So everything is okay between the two of you then. I’m so happy for you.” Sampa says.
“So he’s not cheating on you then?” Yolanda asks.
I do not know. I do not want to know actually. I smile at them. If only everything was okay.
“How did he even know you were there?”
“I sent him a message. Drunk texting.” I say slowly. “Besides, I had been drinking for hours. I guess I was angry and maybe I wanted to test him, I don’t know. See if he cared enough. If he woukd show up. I sent the message. Didn’t think anything of it. The man was probably going to see his bimbo hule and I was hurt to be honest.”
“We understand love.” Yolanda says
“No. I don’t think you do. He was going to see her. Obviously. And I just wanted to see where I stood in his life.”
“That’s why you wanted to stay at the hideaway? In your drunk state?” Sampa asks. “For him.”
I look at her and shake my head.
How do I tell them the truth that I did it to avoid Isaac. I don’t even think they will be ready to hear it all. They won’t understand. Sometimes lying is better than being honest.
“Yes. I stayed to make sure he would show up.” I respond.
No, I stayed so that I could finally decide on my choice of keeping Isaac around which I haven’t gotten to yet. I can’t tell them about Isaac. Not yet anyway. They will talk me out of it. And if they find out how far I’ve gone with him what will they say? Will they be able to keep a secret? I can’t take that chance. And besides I do not want to end it with Isaac just yet. Just because Chinyama showed up last night doesn’t mean he’s done with Cynthia. What if he’s still seeing her. Then why did he show up at the hideaway? Why he act like he cared last night? Why did he act like he was in love with me? Why did he touch me last night? Why did he hold me as if I was the only one he needed?
“So you and Chinyama are okay?” Sampa asks happily.
“If you are asking if my husband and I have talked about Cynthia then no. She’s still the elephant in the room.”
Sampa’s face falls.
“But Mable. He showed up. He didn’t see her obviously.” Yolanda says
“Or he was from taking her to dinner and they argued and he felt he still had a chance with another woman in his life. Me.” I say
“You’re paranoid mami.” Yolanda says.
“Why aren’t you siting down to discuss this?” Sampa asks
“Because I don’t believe him.” I respond.
“Maybe you should listen for once.” Sampa says
Maybe I should. Although he’s done trying to make me sit down and talk. We are civil about everything except Cynthia. I haven’t yet spoken to him about her. Maybe I should. What if I’m losing it over a woman who isn’t even in his life even though she’s seeing him at the office. Why is marriage complicated?
“So your husband came to see you and you two left the hideaway late? Is that why you look like crap? What the hell did you get up to.” Yolanda asks
“Well we just sat and drank. We got drunk. It was like old times you guys. I actually had fun. I have no idea what time we left. We actually talked. We laughed. Good memories.”
“That’s awesome. You’re always talking about how you never chill. And finally it happens.” Sampa says
“I know right.” I smile. “It was good. Having him around, just us two. Without the kids to bother us. Nothing to disturb us. We were a married couple who enjoyed good music and drinks.”
“That’s amazing darling.” Yolanda smiles. “We should drink to that. If you guys had sex we shall drink to that too. You did ka?”
I look away guilty biting my bottom lip.
“She did!” Yolanda laughs. “Girl sex is progress. Calendar forgotten. Iwe.”
“Shhhh Yolanda.” I whisper.
“Ahhh you. From your face I can tell it was nice yes?” Yolanda asks. “Don’t tell me. I’m just happy.”
I might have the most horrible hangover known to man but deep inside I am kinda happy. I had an amazing night. Chinyama and I talked for hours. Drank for hours. I don’t remember much about going home, I don’t remember much about getting into bed and making passionate love with my husband either but I woke up content and happy. Just the like the other night. I guess random is better than planned.
My happiness didn’t last for long. I realised Chinyama was gone when I woke up. No note. No call. Nothing. Obviously to the office. Who ever knows with Chinyama. No need to care. Back to square one.
“That’s progress Mable. Chinyama doing that? Showing up to something is progress.” Sampa says
“I know. I know. Not thinking anything about it. Until I talk to him.” I tell her.
“You promise?” She asks.
“I promise. I will talk to him. I’ll even cook just to make it all nice.”
“Good. See make the right moves for you.” Sampa tells me.
“Imwe we need to drink to this. Tonight Mable. More progress.” Yolanda laughs.
Tonight or never.
“Mini pizzas. Mini sandwiches. Mini burgers. Starters done.” I whisper.
“Jollof rice. Fried egg rice. Pasta in cheese. Duck in red vegetable sauce. Fried york prawns. Done.”
“Next, roasted ham. Red wine honey glazed parsley chicken. Tender steak in pepper and chilli sauce. Roasted eggplants and potatoes in soy sauce with creamy cheese sauce. Greek salad. Potato salad. Grilled chicken salad. All this?” I ask myself.
I shake my head in amazement. All this for a a wedding? What sort of wedding is it? Mixed variety of food? And all this has to be cooked today. Before the wedding reception. All this. Well if they can afford to pay then who am I to complain. I’m the chef. Today will be a long day. A busy kitchen is a good kitchen.
Thank God I came to the hotel early. I’ve been cooking one meal at a time since I got to the hotel. I’m certain I will be done before the reception starts. That’s my job. That’s what I’m good at.
“Good morning Sonia.”
I look up from the menu in front of me. Junior chef Cathy stands across the steel counter hastily tying her apron behind her. Her red eyes tell me she bad a rough night. Late night drinking I suppose, less sleep and rushing to get to work on with a hangover mind. Cathy is late and she knows it.
“Is head chef around?” She asks, her eyes darting around the busy kitchen.
“Good morning Cathy.” I respond. “You look horrible.”
“I know. I know. I just want to sleep.” She yawns. “Is head chef Leon here.”
“Yes. Ever the early one. You know this.”
“Did he ask for me?” She asks worried.
“Not yet. He’s busy. So I’ve noticed.” I smile.
Cathy’s shoulders droop in relief. She knows she’s off the hook for today.
“Ready for the day?” She asks as she walks round the counter to my side.
“I’ve been ready since I got here. Busy busy busy.” I tell her, showing her the menu in my hand.
Cathy grabs the menu and looks at it.
“I heard there is a wedding today.” She says.
“That and managing a whole restaurant. Talk about pressure.”
“Is this the wedding menu?” She asks.
“You think?” I laugh.
Cathy hands the menu back to me and I look at it, hoping some of the entries fall off from my stare.
“I know right. Has head chef posted the roster for who falls where?” Cathy asks.
“Yes. Right by the board.”
“What are you doing today?”
“This wedding menu. Only.” I smile.
“Wow. That should be fun. A wedding only. Damn. You’re basically a free woman.”
“I wish. I would rather be on restaurant duty.” I respond rolling my eyes.
Weddings are always so difficult to deal with. One mistake and all the food is damaged. I have having to deal with large crowds at a go. And today my nightmare has come true.
“So you’re with chef Leon today.” Cathy says.
“”I’m so jealous.”
I look at her, my eyebrow raised.
“Why? You know how to cook. He’s monitored you before.”
Cathy meets my gaze before she laughs.
“You’re so wrong Sonia. So weird. Girl that man’s so yummy. I want him. Watching him cool is so hot and sexy. I don’t mind him brushing his elbow on my body unknowingly.”
“He’s our head chef mama. Ignore that want.”
“Sonia… He’s hot.”
What’s with women and breaking employment rules. Who sleeps with their boss and enjoys it. Yolanda of course bit she’s a special human that friend of mine. But anyone else? That’s so wrong. Besides Chef Leon isn’t even as handsome as Cathy puts it. Women and grey haired men. Inseparable.
“I can’t help it.” Cathy continues. “It’s the grey. It’s hot. I still want to know if he dyes it grey or he’s aging faster than he thought.”
“Who cares.” I shrug.
“I do. You’re engaged so every other man is like a toy to you.”
Is that true? I haven’t noticed most men since I started dating Ian. I have all I want from a man in him. So why bother looking at the others. Boring. Now that I’m engaged I don’t have to look at another man again.
“To you all men are useless. Except that yummy guy of yours.”
“Oh come on. I do appreciate the male species.”
“Ahh. Liar. You bat eyelashes for the other side. White.”
I love black men. I do. Few of them. But that’s still love.
“All humans.” I tell Cathy.
“Well chef Leon is beautiful old and all. I’m still jealous.”
“I’ll tell him you want to join him. Maybe he can switch us.”
“Never going to happen. You’re like the second best chef here. So wedding duty it will be.”
“I can convince him.”
“Uh huh. Won’t work. The man knows who has to be where. You’re the best after him. Glow in the light sweetheart.”
“Just do me a favour. Blow him a kiss for me.”
“I’ll definitely try. Now get to work before he finds you disturbing me.”
“Yes madam chef number two. Talk to you later.”
Hours after my brunch with Mable and Sampa I am at home on my sofa with a cold drink, my feet on Mr Forty’s laps while he massages them. Bliss in the afternoon for me. No words pass between us as he massages my feet. We don’t need to talk when we are together sometimes. Just like old times when we would go on random trips and spent our days in bed. Everything was always done in bed. Everything. He spoilt me everyday.
I missed that.
I missed him. I should never have dated Mutale. Eish, this is the first time I’ve thought about him in days. I moved on from him and back to my past as if he never was a part of my life for almost a year. I haven’t even cried about the break up yet and I already have another man in my bed. Did I ever love Mutale or was it the thought of having a man who was all mine, the most attractive part of my relationship? Not being alone or having a man who went back home to his wife most nights. And yet here I am again with a man who belongs to another; enjoying the benefits.
But why can’t I do the same with Masulani. Why does the thought of stepping in while he has a woman scare me so much? Why is he different from Mr Forty. Why am I even thinking about Masulani. The man is probably happy kissing his special lady away.
“You going out again tonight?” He asks, breaking into my thoughts.
I look at Mr Forty and smile. Why does he want to know? A clingy man is a disgusting man sometimes. This man forgets he has a whole body of a wife waiting for him. I kiss my glass of whiskey, watching as his eyes look at my lips. He wants this. I can tell from the way his eyes stray down to my chest.
“Maybe I will go out.” I respond. “Why?”
“I was thinking a night in would do us some good.” He responds.
“Awww. What about the wife?”
He looks at me and smiles, his dimples on full effect. What is it about him that just makes me giddy. Gosh he is a handsome man.
“She’s out of Lusaka for the weekend.” He responds. “And I don’t want to be home alone.”
“Well you can sex me up and go home late you know.”
“I know. But I want to cuddle you and kiss you all night.”
“Well well well.” I start. “Staying in it is then.”
He places his hand under my thigh and pulls me to him. I scream in laughter as the cold drink spills onto my shirt. He doesn’t care. He lowers his head to my chest and licks the whiskey off my neck, his tongue playing on my skin. I giggle in his arms.
“All night long.” He sings.
Table set. Check
Kids in bed. Check
Dressed to kill. Check
Husband at home. Not check.
Waiting for husband to show up. Check
I look at my wrist watch and sigh. Typical. So typical of Chinyama to be late. For a man who has meetings everyday of the working week, I find it hard to believe he’s failing to keep up with time for dinner with his wife. It’s already twenty hours and he’s a no show.
And I am so close to losing it all.
Gosh. I didn’t do this from nowhere. I did it by the book. Chinyama promised he would be home before nineteen when I sent him a message asking him to talk. I told him.about the dinner. He sounded happy about it. Excited. And now? No show. Typical. I dressed up for nothing. A whole black lace dress going to waste. What sort of man is he?
Maybe I should call; but I don’t want to call him. I really don’t. Because then I will lose it instead of talking things through. I open the bottle of wine on the table in front of me and pour a quarter of it into the wine glass. I take a gulp of it. I do not enjoy the taste. Even the sweetness isn’t enough to make my disappointment in Chinyama.
Gosh I thought we were okay. I thought everything was almost fine between us. We connected. We are connecting again. Last night was definitely not on a schedule. It happened and that’s how it’s supposed to be.
I shake my head and look at my phone. I should call him. What if he was in an accident and he’s dead? He knew this was important so he must have a reason as to why he’s late. I cooked. I cooked the meal in front of me. To perfection, even with my hangover. I cooked. I deserve to know where my husband is. I grab my phone off the table and dial his number. It rings twice before it is picked up.
They say the metaphor someone’s heart stops never means it stopped in the literal sense. I don’t believe them. I believe my heart just stopped the second I heard her voice answer me. It can only be her. Cynthia. He’s with her while he was supposed to be with me. She matters more than I do. I want to laugh. I really do because this is not what I signed up for.
“May I please speak to Chinyama.” I ask through clenched teeth.
“He’s kinda busy.” She says slowly.
Busy doing what? Having sex? Would she pick up the phone while they were having sex? Are they laughing at me right now as he tells her about how dumb I am waiting for him?
“Yes Mable. He’s busy. Can I tell him to call you back?”
Unbelievable. My husband is the trash of world. The bin itself. He has his mistress answering his phone now? Amazing. Simply amazing. What can I wish for?
“Uhmm. No.” I respond. “No need. I will call him later.”
I cut the line before she says anything. That’s that. I stand up from my seat carrying the bottle of wine and the glass in my hands.
I was willing to try. I truly was willing to hear him out. I was ready to give him the benefit of the doubt and make my marriage sort of work. But no Chinyama just can’t meet me half way. I love the man but this is not for me. He can go to hell for all I care.
I’m gonna do things my way.
Cooking helps me find my calm place. It is in the kitchen I find my peace with the world. Where everything goes right no matter how I mix the ingredients. My hands as my tools I can create heaven on a spoon. And when I’m out of the kitchen reality tends to hit me with a slap. Reality is cold while my kitchen is warm and inviting.
I kick my shoes off my feet as I close the door to my flat. Home sweet home. I throw my bag on the sofa and head to my bedroom. All I need is bath and rest. Saturdays are the worst days to work. Weddings and a lot more happen on Saturdays. And today was no exception. Thank God I didn’t have to be the on call chef tonight. It must be God making this happen for me tonight.
A night in with a chardonnay is what I need tonight. I am a second away from my bedroom when I hear the knock on my door. I frown in thought. I am not expecting anyone tonight. Not even Ian. I exhale and walk back to the door. I need rest. I open the door and there stands Sampa with a bottle of wine in one hand and a huge paper bag in her other hand. I cock my head at her and smile. She knows me too well.
“Wine? Your soul called mine for wine.” Sampa laughs.
I laugh with her. I needed this and I didn’t even know it. I hug her and I feel tears in the back of my eyes. I’m not supposed to be alone.
Sampa is definitely a Godsend. She walks into the flat talking about some bad Zambian bus driver while I lock the door. Sampa heads to the kitchen where she places the bottle of wine and the paper bag on the kitchen table. I sit down at the table and watch her take out plates, forks and a corkscrew from the kitchen drawers all the while complaining about the bus driver. When she sits down she opens the paper bag and she pulls out boxes of amazing smelling food. Thai food. My mouth waters.
“Thank you.” I tell her when I have a taste of the Thai fried rice in chicken and prawns. “This is amazing.”
“Told you.” She says. “Your soul called mine.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Stay bored and be boring.” She responds.
The events of the day are catching up with me finally. The stress of the week is just right by the door trying to overwhelm me. I am so tired of reality.
“How are you doing?” Sampa asks.
“I am alright.” I respond, shrugging. “To be honest I’m tired. If you hadn’t come I’d probably be in bed right now.”
“Awww sugar. What’s wrong?”
“Dealing with work. Ian. His family. I don’t know what comes first to be honest.”
“But I thought you and Ian were okay.” She asks worried. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know Sampa. I don’t know if everything is okay. I don’t know if everything will be okay.”
“The whole thing with his mother is getting the better of me. I swear I’m not in the mood to be dealing with parents who hate my skin.”
“Sonia. It will be alright.” Sampa offers
“And if it’s not?”
“Then I’m here for you babe. Always will be. But you need to talk to Ian love. You two have to figure this out. You need to decide if he’s worth fighting for.” Sampa says. “This is your relationship. The rest of your life is gonna be with this man so you need to decide if you’re ready to fight mama bear for him to the end.”
I feel I need to cry. Sampa will not judge me for it. She will understand. I’ve been keeping all this bottled up inside. And now it wants out.
“So you’re saying I should fight her for her son?” I sniff.
“Not slap her or punch her girl. You just gotta show her that you are the best he’s got. And you are. Ian loves you. No matter your age or colour he loves you. And that’s something. That man is still here for you.”
She’s right. He loves me. He’s still here for me. Always has been.
“But do you think we should get married?” I ask her
“Get married. You two are beautiful together. Let his family meet yours. Besides when is that happening?”
“I’m not sure to be honest. I was hoping it would be this coming weekend. I haven’t spoken to my aunt and uncle to ask them the details.” I tell her. “I’m such a bad fiancée. I have no idea what’s going on. His mother had me occupied.”
“I understand. Look at me and Sangu. Mother issues all day.”
“How’s it going for you?” I ask
“It’s okay. I guess. She’s good. Sangu is great. It’s all good.”
“I’m happy about that. That’s amazing.”
She smiles and looks away. It’s so sad that we are best friends and going through issues with our boyfriend’s mothers. So unnecessary. Gosh I don’t know if it ever gets better.
“It will get better.” Sampa says
I look at her and smile. We make a toast to that.
It will get better…
To be continued…
*Vozifunila – your own doing
*”Ahh iwe nizako.” – “Ahh you, it’s your own fault.”
*”Uka! Moba ni so chabe.” – “Wake up! Alcohol is always like that.”