6

ReANA

 

Misbah has an older housekeeper called Nana. I don’t know if that’s her name, but that’s what everyone calls her.

As far as I’m concerned, Nana is an amazing person. She does all the housework. I never have to lift a finger to cook or worry about cleaning. I know Misbah is paying her to do this, but I still feel grateful to not have to do anything.

Now, Nana is breaking my heart. Maybe I should run back to my house and let Misbah take care of this business himself. He’s the one who decided to get a mansion, after all.

Although, I love the mansion in all its beauty and magnificence.

‘Madam Reana, you dey hear me?’ Squinting, Nana stretches her neck.

With an inward sigh, I nod. ‘Yes, Nana, I can hear you clearly.’

‘Eh-hen. I say I dey go my village. My sister, she no well.’

I bet I know who the ‘sister’ is, and what ‘not well’ means. Misbah told me Nana has a beau. I won’t be surprised if she is taking time off to spend it with him. Being of a conservative generation, she would think it inappropriate to mention such a relationship, so she’d have to lie using her non-existent sister.

With a slight smile, I nod. ‘I understand, Nana. Have a safe journey. Give everyone my regards.’

She gives a firm nod. ‘I don tell Oga Misabu and I don put food for one month for freezer.’

‘Thank you, Nana.’ Straightening against the gleaming kitchen counter, I take a bite out of the apple I have been bouncing on one hand. ‘We will miss you, Nana.’

Pleasure fills her face. Nana hitches her lace wrapper on her waist. She pats her head tie and opens the door to the back verandah.

Her taxi driver, a short, stocky man in a striped polo-shirt and trousers, picks up her travelling bag. He tips the edge of his round-billed cap towards me in wordless greeting.

Waving at me, Nana hurries along after him.

Steadily eating the apple, I stand in the kitchen doorway long after they’re out of sight. With a loud sigh, I close the door and throw the bare stalk into the dustbin.

The house feels empty.

Misbah isn’t back from the barber’s yet.

No one but me is in this place and it is giving me the creeps. I debate going upstairs to do some work but dump the idea fast. I am not in the right mood for work.

What can a person do in this place on a weekend?

I haven’t done a tour of this house yet. There are so many rooms, so many switches on the walls. I always avoid touching them as I don’t want to create a lockdown or fire outbreak or something. On the first floor where Misbah’s and my bedrooms are, I open one door after another.

Each room seems to be an extra bedroom of sorts but is decorated slightly differently from the rest. They’re all lovely. I am quite sure those bedsheets are Egyptian cotton like the ones in M’s and my bedroom, although I try not to pay attention to stuff like that.

My father’s face and his elegant surroundings come to my mind. As usual, I shut out the unwanted memories.

Having checked out the first floor, I climb another set of stairs to the second floor.

Here, fewer doors lie farther apart.

I open the first one and find a dark space. With the light coming from the corridor, however, I am able to see the chairs and the giant screen on the wall in front. After feeling confused for a minute, it finally clicks for me. This is a theater of sorts.

Misbah has a media room!

Now certain of how I will spend the next couple of hours, I run down the stairs, straight to the kitchen. A few minutes later, with my overflowing bowl of popcorn, I move as gently as I can—even though a few spill on the floor—back to the second floor.

Directly opposite the media room, I see a door I haven’t opened yet.

Curiosity overtakes me. Grabbing the iron handle, I push the door.

It swings inward.

Once inside, I see that everything about this room is different from the bedrooms.

It is Misbah’s home gym.

I know nothing about gyms and workouts, but whenever M talked about his gym in the past, I would imagine a smaller room somewhere on the ground floor, maybe connected to his office. This could not be farther removed from the picture in my mind.

This room is as large as the media room. It is filled with mirrors on one side. On the far side, floor-to-ceiling windows give a clear view of the blue sky, the green grass below and the trees beyond the grass. Even if one wasn’t interested in working out, the view is a major draw. The room itself is …

I smell M before hearing his footsteps. I turn around just as he approaches the entrance.

‘Madam.’ Standing in the open doorway, Misbah has a curious smile on his face and a bag of potato chips in one hand.

‘Mister,’ I return the smile. ‘Nice haircut. Do you think it is strange that I can recognise you by your scent?’

Misbah enters. ‘Only if it is strange that I knew you were here just by your leavings on the floor of the house.’ He puts a chip in his mouth.

‘Oh. I’d forgotten about the popcorn.’ I put one in my mouth. ‘You know, all the times you told me about your home gym, I never imagined something like this.’

Misbah dips one hand into my popcorn bowl. ‘I imagine this would be unexpected for most.’ He chews silently for a moment with a side glance at me. ‘Especially for those who never spend any time in gyms.’

‘Hey!’ My feeble protest is made even less serious when I put more popcorn in my mouth. ‘I exercise in my head. Is that a punching bag?’

Chewing silently, Misbah inclines his head.

‘I would have expected your gym to be full of all sorts of equipments, like that bike thingamajig, maybe a treadmill, and lots of weight lifting equipments … oh, and dumbbells. But you have one punching bag in the middle of an open room with great lighting. Amazing view, by the way.’

‘This is one of my two gyms, darling,’ a teasing light comes into his eyes. ‘The one with all the equipment is downstairs-’

‘Don’t tell me! It is downstairs, directly connected to your office by a door or so.’

He inclines his head in surprise.

‘I know you too well, darling.’

‘Almost too well,’ M puts in.

‘True; I didn’t know you liked punching stuff.’

‘I come here on the rare occasion when I feel like punching someone or something. That’s why it’s upstairs, and not downstairs. The other gym is for a full workout: press-ups and lifting weights, if you will.’

‘Don’t be condescending, M. It doesn’t suit you.’ Then I ruin the haughty effect by asking conspiratorially, ‘but why would you feel like punching someone?’

With a shrug, Misbah puts a chip in his mouth.

‘No answer? Okay, is there anyone specific who you sometimes feel like punching?’

The chewing sound is my response. The shuttered look in his eyes tells me there’s something there, something Misbah won’t be talking about today.

What else is new?

‘Okay, if you won’t tell me your deep, dark secrets, maybe you can teach me a little about workouts, punching, self-defense moves?’

Misbah’s eyes narrow speculatively. He throws more popcorn into his mouth. ‘Is this about the thing, with that guy?’

‘Will you teach me or not?’

He smirks. ‘Don’t be passive-aggressive, sweetheart, it doesn’t suit you. We’ll begin calisthenics tonight.’

Jerk!

With an empty bowl of popcorn, having admired the gym to my heart’s content, I exit.

Behind me, M yawns loudly.

‘Don’t be gross.’

He scoffs. ‘This is coming from someone who left a trail of popcorn all the way from the kitchen here.’ With a shake of his head, Misbah shuts the door behind himself. ‘How did you find this place anyway?’

‘Bored, wandering, wanted to watch a movie, found this.’

‘Ah. I see the media room slightly ajar.’

In my head, I count to four before M, unable to help himself, steps over to shut the media room door.

‘Sorry, Mr. OCD. Nana said she’d told you she had to leave.’

‘Her sister is sick in the village.’

‘More like her boyfriend.’

‘No, she really has a sister, who is in fact, sick. I check these things.’

As we come to the top of the stairs, I pause and turn to Misbah with surprise. ‘You are telling me you checked to see if her story is true?’

Misbah nods.

‘How?’

‘I have my ways.’ He descends a stair.

I grip Misbah’s shoulder. ‘How? Don’t tell me you hired thugs or some such.’ The thought makes me laugh. ‘You know what? I don’t want to know if you did.’

Misbah chuckles, flicks my cheek. ‘Not exactly.’

Huh?

‘They’re … we’ll call them informal security consultants. They have specific methods, but they get things done.’ He descends the stairs.

I follow him. ‘There really are a lot of things I don’t know about you, M. But one thing I do know is that you are more of a control freak than I ever thought.’

Misbah shrugs.

‘In any case, you need to figure out how to clean this house now that Nana isn’t here.’

‘That’s not a problem.’ M says as we reach the first floor. ‘The cleaning team will work as usual. As you can see, your popcorn litter has been cleared.’

Ignoring the dig, I glance at him. ‘You have a cleaning team? I did not know that.’

They’re paid to be efficient and to make themselves unseen. Nana cooks and oversees the staff. You didn’t think she cleaned this entire house by herself, did you?’

Thank you, God!

‘I see,’ I respond calmly while doing cartwheels in my head.

‘You know, you could have simply used the kitchen on this floor instead of going all the way downstairs from the second floor.’

I stop in my tracks. ‘You have a kitchen on this floor? Are you kidding me right now?’

Misbah grins. ‘Why don’t I give you a long-overdue tour of the house?’

‘Why don’t you?’

 

***

 

‘So, how do you feel?’ Misbah asks when I enter the kitchen later in the evening.

‘I did not think I could feel this great after all that exercise. I am a little tired, but also revved up, if that makes any sense.’

‘It does,’ Misbah nods. ‘No aches anywhere?’

‘Not at all, surprisingly. The shower rounded it up nicely.’

When Misbah takes out a bag of chips, I snatch it from him with a smile. ‘I figure I’ve earned it.’

He looks mildly irritated. ‘I’m not saying you haven’t earned it, but can you get your own?’

‘Sorry,’ I open the bag and take one out. ‘I would’ve expected more aches and pains seeing as I haven’t done any exercise in forever.’

With a headshake, M takes out another bag before joining me at the table. ‘Be careful of what you wish for.’

‘Meh. Those who say exercise is everything might be onto something.’ I chew more chips. ‘Right now, I am so pumped up, I feel like Mike Tyson.’

M gives a low laugh. ‘I bet you do. The only difference is you still punch like a girl. Just make sure you show up to workout every day. We have a long way to go.’

‘I punch like a girl because I am a girl but I’m up to the task. In fact, each time I had to contort my body into an unnatural shape, I imagined myself punching Eric in the face like you did. That kept me going.’

M laughs again.

After emptying the bag, I dump it in the dustbin and move to the sink to wash my hands. Recalling something, I clear my throat. ‘Hey, M. So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.’

‘What is it?’ He moves around behind me. From the crinkling sound, I suppose he’s dumping his empty chip bag as well.

‘Since you have access to these investigators, I was thinking maybe you could ask them to help me do some … investigation on this guy.’

M joins me at the sink. ‘I thought you wanted me to stay away from Eric.’

‘Not Eric.’

He sighs. ‘Who is the mofo this time around?’

A snicker escapes my lips. ‘Adam is not a mofo. He sounds really nice. He’s rich but nice. I think he sells cars. We met online this past week, and he hasn’t sent me a single D-pic. I might give him a try, but I just thought I should be more cautious after the last experience.’

‘Save us all the trouble. Tell him no.’

I turn to M in surprise. ‘You won’t even do the investigation first?’

‘I don’t need to. He’s probably a drug-dealer who sells women’s parts to blood ritualists on the side. The car-sales business may be a cover.’

‘That’s absurd.’ Leaning against the counter, I dry my hands using a kitchen napkin.

Misbah shrugs, ‘I don’t like him already.’

‘You’ve started again. You don’t need to like him, Misbah. I do.’

‘Also, you don’t have a lot of luck with men. This one will probably be like the others. We haven’t even dealt with the last one, remember?’

Trying to control the anger slowly working its way into my head, I push away from the counter and walk to the fridge. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my luck. Not all of them were bad. The last one was a creep, yes, and maybe the one before. And, yes, Garba was a real scumbag. But Sam was okay, wasn’t he?’

‘Pass me some water, will you? I don’t know which Sam you mean, Ree, because Sam was a real creep.’

I place a glass of water in front of Misbah with a thud, and the insensitive clod that he is does not realise he’s irritating me. Or maybe he just does not care.

‘Thank you.’ M gulps half of the tumbler’s contents. ‘Shall we talk about Sam? The fool asked you out in a hospital ward. I can’t believe you ever went out with that moron.’ M shakes his head. ‘Then, he goes ahead to cheat and has the nerve to blame you for his cheating.’

‘He had needs I was not ready to fulfill. It is understandable, you know.’

Misbah gives me a dark, piercing look that causes me to hunch in defense. ‘Don’t you dare!’

Turning around, I open the freezer. ‘I’m just saying.’

‘You are not to blame for his stupidity, except maybe for having the poor sense to date him in the first place, which, when you think about it, could have happened to anyone.’

Just as it happened to him with Lola.

‘So, have you spoken to your lawyer about Eric?’

‘Um …’

‘I take it that’s a no. Gone to the police yet?’

‘Um …’

‘Ree, three weeks have passed since the incident.’

‘I know. I will do it.’

‘Fine. Do it first, and, then, maybe we’ll investigate this other guy.’

‘Okay. Although, you sound as though you don’t want me to date anyone anymore, ever.’

‘I never said that. When did I say that?’ M fake-protests, which means I guessed right.

Considering the freezer’s contents, I scoff lightly. ‘I don’t believe you, M. Are you going to stop me from getting married and having a family?’

After a short silence, M sighs. ‘Ree, I am not trying to ruin your life. I’m just trying to protect you.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m not biting off your head. You have to stop, though. I can’t meet someone without meeting people. I mean, unless there is someone you want to introduce me to.’

Misbah scoffs. ‘You won’t like anyone I might think of. You only date people you know you can’t settle down with. That’s your thing, isn’t it?’

I pause, turn around. ‘So, you have the dossier on me now?’

He gives a quiet smile. ‘I know you, and I care about you.’

Sometimes, M can be insensitive and sometimes, he knows how to say the right things. ‘You probably think I need therapy, don’t you?’

‘We all do in some sense, don’t we?’

‘How philosophical!’

All of a sudden, his loses the flippant attitude. ‘Look, Ree. What I think does not really matter. The question is what do you think? If you want it, you know you have my support. We’ll find you the best therapist in town … or out of town, whichever one works.’

I give him a small smile. ‘I appreciate that, M.’

We are not talking about this.

Time to change the topic.

‘Fried Rice?’

M gives me a knowing smile before answering. ‘Sure, that’s fine.’

I put the frozen food on the stove to heat up.

When I turn around, I see Misbah watching me silently with a bulge on his forehead.

‘What?’ I join him at the table.

‘Nothing.’ His stare tells me that Misbah is thinking, maybe planning something.

‘I can literally see the wheels turning in your head, M. What is it?’

He hesitates, which rouses my curiosity. Misbah never hesitates before speaking. ‘I have been thinking about something for some time now. I haven’t mentioned it to you yet, because I … well.’

This show of nerves is rather interesting. ‘Are you going to tell me now?’

Misbah nods, but stays silent.

‘M.’

His eyes take on a resolute look. ‘I was thinking about taking a step. It’s a little radical but now that we’re discussing relationships, it’s occurred to me that we have similar issues. So, I’m thinking you should join me. Will you tell me what you think?’

All sorts of thoughts run through my head. ‘I could, if I knew what it was.’

‘Yes. Could you pass a bag of chips, please?’

‘M, darling, stop stalling.’

‘I have decided to adopt a child.’

‘Huh?’

‘I want you to adopt a child with me.’

What?

‘Have you lost your mind?’

‘Not really.’ In typical M fashion, now that he’s dropped the bombshell, he’s wearing a relaxed smile.

I inhale deeply. ‘Start from the beginning. How did you come up with this … scheme?’

‘I’ve just been thinking, you know? I want a child, and I don’t want to wait until I meet someone perfect. So, I narrowed it down to two options: adopt or find a surrogate. I prefer the adoption option. Here we are.’

Where is this fear coming from? Why is there fear at all?

‘Misbah,’ I grip his hand tight. ‘Misbah, don’t do something in a haste that you won’t be able to take back.’

He returns the squeeze. ‘Ree, I won’t want to take this back. A loving, loyal woman has proven elusive thus far. I can’t keep waiting for her to show up before moving ahead with my life.’

‘I knew it! This is about Lola isn’t it?’

‘No, I-’

‘Stop it! I know the breakup hit you harder than you will ever admit. This is what happens when you refuse to talk about your pain. You go crazy and make crazy plans.’

Misbah simply stares at me in that way that he does.

I throw up my hands. It looks like I’m saying nonsense, but who cares? ‘Lola was stupid, Misbah. Anyone who cheats on you is stupid. Don’t let her push you into something you’ll regret.’

‘Reana, Lola is not pushing me into anything. Now, for the last time, I won’t regret having a child.’

‘You’re talking about a child, but that’s your cover story. What you really want is a woman. You feel alone, don’t you?’

Misbah tilts his head. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Reana.’

Sighing, I grip his hand again. ‘The woman will come, M.’

‘If she comes, that’s fine. If not, that’s fine too. I’m no longer waiting.’

‘You’re not alone, M. I’m here for you. We can get through anything together.’

He gives a soft smile. ‘I know, love.’

Oh, God! He’s not changing his mind.

‘I will make a deal with you. What if I said I wouldn’t start a family of my own until you are able?’ In my desperation, I throw out the words, but, after they are out, I realise I would do it without hesitation if M asked.

Misbah looks shocked for a moment. ‘That’s ... you can’t do that, Ree.’

‘What you are trying to do is - what if you got a child and thereafter met someone? What then?’

Misbah smiles. ‘If she isn’t okay with my child, adopted or biological, then she isn’t really the one, is she?’

Misbah’s stubborn spirit has come again.

Misbah shifts in his seat, leans forward. ‘Ree, I know this is surprising, but once you’ve had some time to think about it, you’ll understand. I really believe this could solve both our issues. Consider it. Do you really want to put your life on hold waiting for “The One”, when you could take charge and go for what you want now? Unless, of course, you don’t want children-’

‘No! Yes, I do. I just - I thought it would be much later. I’m really not ready to …’ My voice trails off while I’m trying to gather my scattered thoughts. ‘It’s not that - I just know this is more about the absence of a woman than it is about a child, Misbah. You’re either lying to me or yourself if you say otherwise.’

‘I-’

‘If I said no to this whole thing, you’d do it without me, wouldn’t you?’

His eyes narrow. ‘I’d rather not make that choice. Even if you didn’t want to adopt the child with me, I’d still want you on board. As, you know, support.’

‘Why?’

He gives a surprised frown as if the question is a strange one. ‘Well, because … just because. You’re my … Ree.’ M smiles. ‘Plus, I’m sure I will need some help with it along the way, and I’d like to be able to count on you.’

This is the most insane idea I have ever heard from Misbah. Normally, I go along with his ideas, because they seem fun. This one, though, this one involves another person’s life: a child. So many things could go wrong. ‘This is crazier than that time when you made me do the BASE jump.’

M lets out a chuckle. ‘Yeah, that was fun, wasn’t it?’

‘More like dangerous. This is even more dangerous, M. There are so many things that - you don’t even like cooking, for God’s sake. How will you feed a child?’

‘That’s why you’re here, love.’ He laughs.

‘Very funny.’

‘I’ll have Nana, won’t I? Maybe hire a live-in cook, a nanny, someone.’

‘That’s your answer to everything? Throw money at it?’

Misbah’s smile drops. Silently, he watches me.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.’

Why did I snap?

I feel a steadily growing anxiety within. It is only now hitting me that M is moving on with his life and I am probably not always going to be a part of it.

Misbah is ready to be a dad and is asking me to take this journey with him. If I say no, he’ll end up with someone else who’ll readily agree.

Where would I be then?

‘M, I can’t be anyone’s mommy. I’m a mess. Maybe I will be ready in a couple of years, maybe, but not now.’

‘Ree, I get it.’

I release a sigh, knowing what I’m about to delve into. ‘One more question, Misbah. Have you thought of how people will react to this? What they might say?’

Misbah scoffs. ‘When have I ever given you the impression that I care about what others think?’

‘You might want to care about this one, Misbah, because it’s huge.’

He frowns. ‘What do you mean?’

As if navigating a minefield, I try to pick my words. ‘You’re in Africa. Adopting when you don’t have biological children is suspicious. People might say you’re impotent, for instance, and - what’s funny?’

Laughing, Misbah gives a headshake, ‘continue.’

‘This is serious, M. You’re young—only thirty six years old—and rich. They might say you used black magic to get wealthy by using your … seed, and that’s why you can’t have children.’

Misbah laughs some more. ‘You think I haven’t considered that? Again, Reana, I really don’t care.’

That stuns me for an instance. ‘Even if your exes decide to give credence to it?’

Misbah lifts an eyebrow.

I let out a sigh. ‘Nike told me you’re impotent.’

‘Nike … my gold-digger ex?’

‘Everyone is a gold digger to you, Misbah. It was right after you guys broke up. I think she said that to discourage me from-.’

Misbah interrupts me with a shake of his head. ‘She said that because I refused to sleep with her. That’s not surprising. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t want you to feel bad. Why would I tell you something like that?’

Misbah stares at me with piercing eyes. ‘Stop keeping things from me, Reana.’

Look who’s talking.

Misbah shrugs. ‘Nike was angry because she couldn’t trap me and my money. She can say whatever she wants. I’m not changing my mind. Don’t try to change my mind, Ree.’

Exhausted, I relent. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ With a carefully blank face, Misbah tilts his head to the side.

‘I don’t want a child right now, but you do. I won’t hold you back and I can’t let you fumble around by yourself. So, I’ll support you through the process. Adopt your child. Whatever you need, I’m here. We’ll figure it out together.’

Misbah’s eyes widen, like a child who has just been given a gift. His smile makes his entire face glow.

The pleasure I get from this is so reassuring.

Misbah grips my hand across the table, strokes my cheek with another hand. ‘Reana, you are a darling.’

I grin. ‘I know. So, where do we start?’

‘We’ll get to that. I think the food is burning.’

Crap!