Body & Soul

The morning after

When Jay opened his eyes on Sunday morning, he perceived tantalising aroma of freshly made food which wafted from the kitchenette.

 

He yawned and checked the time, it was a few minutes after 9am. He thought he heard his wife’s voice. He sat up and looked around him, cursing under his breath. He was alone on the bed in his mistress’ room.

When he remembered what happened the previous day on the beach, his heart raced. He blamed himself. It was avoidable. If had picked his wife, Adele’s call or read her text message to him, he wouldn’t have taken his mistress, Debola, to the beach. He would have avoided this mess.

 

He went into the tiny restroom and did his morning ritual, afterwards, he brushed his teeth and showered. By the time he was done and entered the room, Debola, dressed in bum shorts and sleeveless crop top, was lying on her back on the bed. “Good morning the love of my life,” she cooed.

 

“Good morning dear. What are you cooking? You’re punishing my nose. The aroma is making me very hungry,” he told her and brushed his lips on hers. Debola giggled and said, “I’m done. I prepared breakfast for my darling husband. Or, aren’t you my husband?” Jay laughed long. How would he respond to such a question? “Am I not your wife?

 

Am I not good enough for you?” She asked again. Jay found himself boxed into a corner. The wrong word would put him into trouble with her. He already had his wife to deal with, he wouldn’t be able to handle an additional trouble, and Debola could throw tantrum! “Am I not good enough for you?”

 

She asked the third time. “Of course, why not. You’re the perfect woman any man could wish for,” he said, pain in his heart. She beamed with smile. Her next question threw him off balance. “When are we getting married?

 

We need to start making necessary arrangements,” she said. Jay’s heart almost stopped beating! He said nothing. “When now? We can’t continue like this. We have to define this relationship.

At 40, I should be settling down with a man of my choice. I need to have my children before I become too old. I’m not getting younger, you know,” she said. He needed not to be told that she was serious. Her face and tone of voice said it all. He tried to recall if they had discussed marriage in the past and what he had told her and came up blank.

 

But he didn’t trust himself, he could have promised her heaven on earth at the throes of passion. She was looking at him quizzically. “Em…er…em…er…what was your question again?” He asked. “I asked when we are getting married. Or are we not getting married? I can’t be nursing an aimless relationship. Not at my age. I need to know where we are headed,” she said, getting off the bed and heading to the kitchenette. He knew he had to be careful.

 

He was in same dilemma as the man who had a stubborn fly perched on his scrotum. He watched her until she disappeared into the kitchenette. How would he wriggle out of this delicate situation? He couldn’t afford having two angry women in his life. That would be suicide. His wife was already mad with him.

 

That, he could handle. But his mistress’ anger was something he didn’t want to face. “Debola,” he called. When she didn’t respond, he called her again. “Oh, so I’ve become Debola to you now?” She fired at him. He was taken aback.

 

“What’s wrong with that? Is that not your name?” He queried her. “Of course, that’s my name. But I can’t remember you calling me that,” she shouted from, emerging from the kitchen. “Oh ok. My dear, my darling, my everything,” he said. Her face thawed as she moved towards him and began, “So, let’s talk about our wedding. But first, you know you’re taking me to Dubai?

 

That’s where I’m shopping for our wedding. We’ll announce it officially at my birthday next month. We’ll have…” He cut in, “Hey dear, why not get me food first? It’s almost 11am and it’ll soon be past breakfast.” “Oh, you’re right. Let me get your food,” she said going back to into the kitchen. Jay’s tummy churned, not from hunger, but from fear, mixed with lust.

 

That was dangerous, he knew it. He had angered his wife. He knew she was vexing and she was entitled to it. He remembered the WhatsApp message she sent to him last night and felt like a bum. The fear moved to his heart. ….

 

Adele woke up a tad late. She took her bath, threw on the first gown that caught her fancy in her wardrobe and rushed out of the house because she was already late for service. She wasn’t surprised that she slept through her 5:30am wake up alarm, for she was stewed last night.

 

She had driven out of the house before it occurred to her that she didn’t check to know whether Jay was home or not. She thought of calling him on the phone but jettisoned the idea immediately as the happenings of yesterday flooded her mind. She turned the volume of her car stereo louder to drown the still voice telling her to learn to forgive again and again.

After service, she waited for her group meeting. She got home around noon and Jay was not home. He didn’t return home last night: she wasn’t bothered. She wouldn’t cry over spilled milk. Her present stance was a big surprise because only yesterday, she was so keen on fighting to keep her husband.

 

She went to the kitchen and prepared Jollof rice. As she tasted it for salt, she wondered what the Minister of Information, Alhaji Lai Mohammed would say if he tasted her Jollof rice. She laughed hard and loud as she danced to the song playing in her head.

 

 

 

She scooped the rice into plastic dishes, covered them properly and stowed them in the freezer. She took inventory of other dishes in the freezer and decided that she had enough food in there for Jay.

 

When she was done, she had a little lunch, cleaned up the kitchen and went to her room. She still had more than three hours before her 6pm date with Bolan. She smiled. She would take an hour nap.

 

She had fixed a dinner date because tomorrow would be public holiday. Today, she felt like giving herself a treat. She worked so hard, she should enjoy the fruit of her labour anytime she chose to. She called the security man and told him to wash the matte black Mercedes G-Class in their garage.

 

That car had not been driven out of the garage in more than six weeks. She smiled. Bolan had sent a reminder text and she responded before drifting off to sleep.

 

When she woke up, she felt much stronger and by the time she was ready for her date, she knew she was really looking good in her sleeveless little black gown and matching black high-heel sandals.

 

She pulled her weaves up and knotted them into a loose bun and spritzed one of her best perfumes. She rummaged in her drawer and pulled out the G-Class key. She had to hide the keys.

 

The thought of Jay using the SUV she bought with her money to take his mistress out made her retrieve the keys from him. Let him give all the girls in the world good time with his own cars.

 

That way, the ache would be less. A three-tone brown and black skin leather handbag completed her ensemble. It was a few minutes before 6pm when she stepped out of the house. She locked the front door and was about to move to the garage when Jay drove into the compound.

 

She stood on the porch long enough for him to have a good look at her and then sashayed to the garage as he alighted from his car and moved towards her.. She slowed down. “Hi dear. You’re back? I didn’t expect you back..

 

Didn’t expect her to let you come home. There’s food in the freezer for you, that’s if you’re hungry,” she said as she moved towards her ride.

 

It took Jay some moment to get over the shock of her beauty. “Where are you going? Why didn’t you tell me you’re going out?”

 

He asked. “So you turn up there with your new wife? No, there’s no need telling you about my movements anymore. I’ve had enough shaming from you,” she told him. “But er…er…what you’re putting on, they won’t know you’re married,” he stuttered, running his eyes all over her.

 

“Sweetheart, that’s the idea. I don’t feel married,” she said as she got into her ride and roared it to life. By the time Jay got himself together, she had driven out of the gate. “Wait, don’t lock that gate,” he shouted at the security man as he rushed into his car, made a turn and drove out in pursuit if his wife.

 

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Let’s continue on this journey on Sunday!

 

Send your observations to: julietbumah@ gmail.com

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