10

REANA

 

‘Let’s just do it.’

‘One moment.’ Keeping my eyes shut, I inhale deeply. Talking to my father requires a lot of mental preparation.

‘Would you like me to talk to him?’ Misbah asks gently.

‘I wish.’ I take another deep breath that comes out as a sigh. ‘This is going to suck anyway, so I might as well take the plunge.’

‘Hello?’ The gravelly voice comes through when I place the call.

‘Good evening, sir.’ At the back of my mind, I recognize that my voice has lowered automatically.

‘Reana, how are you?’

‘I’m-’

‘Hope all is well.’

My breath hitches. ‘Yes, I-’

‘Okay, good. It’s getting late now. Have a good night rest.’

‘Wait! Daddy, I have to tell you something.’

‘Yes, what is it?’

‘I-I wanted to tell you that I’m-Misbah and I are getting married.’

There.

‘Who is Misbah? Is it that boy you have been following around?’

‘I-’ Sigh. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘So, you two have finally decided to stop fornicating?’

‘We never-’

‘Tell him to call me when next you see him.’

‘He’s here now, if you want to speak with him.’

No response.

I pass the phone to Misbah, after putting it on loudspeaker.

‘Good evening, sir. This is Misbah Malik.’ Misbah says with a relaxed smile.

I can hear my father’s voice come through clearly. ‘So you have decided to stop fornicating with Reana?’

‘No, sir,’ M’s smile turns into a grin. It’s almost as if he’s laughing silently.

‘No? You have not decided to stop?’

‘No, we have not been fornicating. However,-’

‘Rubbish. I wasn’t born yesterday.’

Misbah continues as if he hasn’t been interrupted, something I would never dream of doing. ‘-I would like to assure you that I love Reana very much, and intend to take care of her as much as I can.’

‘I am about leaving the country right now. Let my admin know when you plan to have the ceremony and he’ll take care of the details.’

That means he’s not attending. Struggling not to feel disappointed, I give M a headshake. I don’t want my father’s admin involved in this.

‘Thank you, sir. That’s not necessary. Everything is under control. We’ll send you the particulars as soon as possible.’

‘Very good. Bye.’

The call disconnects.

Misbah hands the phone to me with an amused grin. ‘That went well, wouldn’t you say?’

I burst into tears.

Misbah pulls me against himself. He holds me till the tears subside.

When I feel more composed, I wipe my face with a palm. ‘Ugh. My face must look a sight right now.’ And my nose sounds very blocked.

‘Your face looks pretty, as always.’

My face crumbles again, but I will the tears back. ‘I did not mean to cry all over you.’

‘I know, love.’

‘He’s not coming.’

Misbah sighs. ‘No, he’s not.’

‘What did I ever do to him?’

Misbah gives a sympathetic headshake, but says nothing.

‘I just wish … God! Anyway …’ I wipe my face again and lean back against the headboard of my bed where we’re seated. ‘Just promise me you won’t ever be like that with our kid.’

‘Not be cold or emotionally withholding? That’s a promise I can easily make.’

‘Good. I mean, I know you aren’t really like that, but it helps to hear it. I really don’t want to end up marrying my father, you know?’

‘That would be very inappropriate. I agree completely.’

I can’t even manage a smile at Misbah’s joke. ‘You know you didn’t have to try to reassure him by telling him how you love me and all that. He couldn’t care less.’

‘I somehow doubt that, but anyway, it’s true, isn’t it? I meant it; though he may have read it differently from how I meant it.’

‘Thanks anyway,’ I sigh. ‘I used to resent how he was never around. I thought he was distant because of the physical distance. But, whenever he was around, he’d be the same way. When I made the mistake of telling him, he asked if there was anything I needed that I was not getting.’ I pause and shake my head. ‘As if material things make up for parental neglect.’

‘And that’s why you have your aversion to rich people.’

‘They’re usually jerks, aren’t they?’

‘Easy, tiger. No judgment here.’

‘Sorry. Residual anger.’ I sigh. ‘It is almost as if he delights in being mean to me. As if he is punishing me for killing my mum in childbirth.’

Misbah leans against the headboard too, mirroring my move. ‘You know you did not kill her though, right?’

‘Now, I do.’

‘But this was not always the case?’ Misbah interjects, gently.

I shrug. ‘Anyway, I guess, at some point I have to accept that he’s always going to be this way. I just need to learn to be like you. Make everything a joke.’

‘Are you sure that would work?’

I sigh. ‘I usually think about all what he’s done for me—you know, provisions, good education, opportunities, etc—and focus on that instead. That works but, sometimes … it just sneaks up on you. I’m not usually a whiny, poor-rich-girl … whiner.’

‘I know.’

Mentally exhausted, I rub my face with both hands. ‘God! Here is a twenty nine-year-old, strong, independent woman, still crying for her daddy to be nice to her. Is that pathetic or what?’ I force a wistful smile out.

‘Not really.’ Misbah says gently. ‘Not at all, in fact.’ With a slight smile, Misbah drops a kiss on my bonnet-covered head. He drops another one on my cheek. The second one lingers just a moment longer than the first. When Misbah pulls back slightly, the air in the room is charged.

Our faces are so close that I can feel his warm breath fanning my skin.

Misbah stares at me for a long moment. As our gazes hold, his eyes become bigger, just as they did during that experiment.

I hold my breath in anticipation of … what?

M shuts his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I should go.’

‘No.’ I hold fast to his arm when he tries to move off the bed. I’m not ready to be alone with my thoughts right now.

The air is slightly awkward between us, but I’m not worried. M wasn’t trying to be provocative. He kissed me on the cheek, meaning to offer comfort.

Our relationship is on new, boggy ground however, and the terrain is turning out a little dangerous.

‘Get some sleep, Ree. You’ll feel better tomorrow.’

‘A-alright.’

He shifts again.

This time, I let him go.

‘Goodnight.’ M pulls the door shut behind him without looking back.

 

***

 

I have never told M but I love this car. To be honest, I don’t know much about it. I simply love the way it looks.

It’s a Bugatti Chiron Super Sport.

I researched it. Though I’ve forgotten most of the jargon I read about it, I know I want to own it. That’s why I’ve been saving for it.

The funds are almost complete.

I can’t afford its yearly maintenance so I plan to sell it after some time. Nonetheless, I am going to get it. This is my target, and that’s it.

M knows about my car fund savings. He just doesn’t know that my target is this car.

Though, I never take him up on his countless offers to take a car from his garage; if I ever did, I would pick this one. I know he loves this car too but he’d let me pick it because that’s just who M is. That isn’t right so I won’t let him know.

I send a discreet glance around in the car for the millionth time. The interior looks like luxury and smells like heaven. With an internal sigh, I look out my window at the passing cars while dreaming of driving my version of this car.

Just then, one black jeep swerves to avoid a pothole. It nearly collides with us but for Misbah’s quick reaction.

Benin City is full of crazy drivers.

No one says anything; we’re used to it. A headshake conveys the shared sentiment.

We decided, after yesterday’s saga with daddy, to break the news to Omar and Yesmin in person. There’s a better chance of a positive reaction from them, rather than the lukewarm reaction we received from him.

In deference to the hot, dry December afternoon, the air conditioner is on. It gives me comfort knowing that that my new pair of hand-made Italian sandals, which arrived just before we left home today, will not suffer.

They are the sexiest shoes ever, and it would be a shame if the heat spoilt them.

I can tell expensive when I see it, and this pair reeks of money. I suppose it counts for something that M knows me well enough to know I can’t resist shoes. He said he’d ordered it last night with special shipping because he’d wanted to make me feel better.

So thoughtful.

Every time I look at the shoes, I get a picture of myself planting a big, wet kiss on M—and not on his cheeks, either. It’s a little embarrassing, to be honest.

For the millionth time since I’ve put the shoes on, I raise one leg slightly, twisting it this way and that way. Hearing a light chuckle beside me, I glance at M. ‘What? I love them.’

‘The grin on your face tells me.’ Like me, Misbah is casually dressed. He has on a fitted, black sweater with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, calling attention to his thick forearms. No matter what he puts on, he always looks elegant.

‘Do you know you have perfectly arched eyebrows and really thick eyelashes?’

‘Huh?’ M glances at me briefly.

‘You have lashes and eyebrows that women undergo torture to get.’

He gives a toothy grin, ‘and you just noticed it now?’

‘For some reason, I never noticed it before. My point is that life is unfair.’

‘So, we’ve known each other for over five years and you are only just noticing my eyelashes? What have you been seeing on my face before now, mashed Cassava?

‘It happens.’

Misbah gives a solemn nod. ‘I guess I should buy you shoes more often.’

Laughing, I look at the shoes again. ‘Don’t make a habit of it. This was a one-off thing. I might not accept the next one.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Misbah slows the car at a huge gate in front of the estate where Omar and Yesmin live.

The young, light-skinned security man in uniform stands from a wooden bench. With a smile and a salute, he greets Misbah by name and gives him a tag. He raises the barrier for us to pass.

‘You slipped him something, didn’t you?’

M gives a low chuckle. ‘You notice everything, don’t you?’

All at once, it is as if the throaty chuckle reaches into me with tentacles and grabs my viscera.

I take deep breaths to get my sudden reaction under control. Still, I am unable to block the shiver or the thought that comes with it. Sexy!

‘Are you alright, love?’

I glance at M.

Too soon.

I glance away. ‘Yeah, fine.’

‘You don’t need me to turn off the A.C.?’

‘No, why?’ I know why he is asking.

‘It looked like you shivered a second ago.’

‘I’m okay.’ Now calm, I am able to look at Misbah again.

He stares at me for a moment with a slight frown.

‘I am fine, M.’

He returns his gaze to the road after a single nod.

I turn mine out the window.

What is happening to me?

Did Misbah do something to my mind? Before that weird experiment, I never had dreams or thoughts or reactions like the ones I just had. What does it all mean? This is really confusing.

Pushing down the fear, I focus on our surroundings.

This place screams of wealth in a silent, elegant manner.

Misbah’s neighborhood is very exclusive, very luxurious, and very similar to the neighbourhood where I grew up and where my father still lives. There are huge mansions, acres apart, lining the roads.

This place however, is designed differently. There are ornamental trees breaking the monotony of concrete on the sidewalk pavement. There are side streets branching off the main streets. Each side street has trees and ends in a single, huge house. Unlike M’s neighborhood, and my father’s, each property owner in this place owns their street. Literally. This means lots of privacy, lots of space, and lots of greenery and natural-life for these people. The houses don’t look as big as those in M’s neighborhood, but the space and privacy here are beyond wild.

Misbah turns onto Malik Court.

‘The first time you brought me here, I thought, this is like having your house in the middle of the woods.’

‘That’s what Omar was aiming for.’ Misbah gives a fond smile. ‘It’s not for me, though. Do you think you might prefer it?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose I could get used to it.’

‘Is there a type of house or environment that you prefer?’

‘I grew up in a boarding school. My holidays were spent in a large, empty, joyless house. I used to think a small house would be great, and that’s why I bought mine. But I love your mansion and Omar and Yesmin’s. I guess as long as there’s joy in the house, I’m good.’

Misbah shakes his head. ‘Not your house, though. It is too small, and the area is highly disorganized and unsafe.’

‘You sound like a snob.’

‘I’m not-’

A computerized voice interrupts us. We are at the gate, but unlike the last time we came here, the gate does not open automatically.

Misbah lowers his window and sticks his head out to the strange-looking, metal panel hanging near the gate.

‘Please state your name and business?’ The crisp, female-sounding voice says.

‘Misbah and Reana, visiting.’ Misbah responds.

‘Welcome, Misbah and girlfriend, Reana.’

What?

The gate slides open.

With a surprised laugh, Misbah sticks his head back in and rolls up the window. ‘Yesmin’s idea of a joke, I’m sure. They must have upgraded their security yet again. Those attacks last year … things like that really do a number on your sense of security.’

‘I imagine. Would Yesmin really have added that?’ I wonder. ‘She does not seem particularly mischievous.’

‘She does not, does she? Misbah laughs again. ‘Yesmin is a quiet sweetheart, but she has a mischievous streak a mile wide. I’m pretty sure she did this.’ Misbah pauses for a moment and then laughs to himself. ‘She once shaved the back part of Omar’s head in his sleep and let him come into the office like that. When we finally told him, he looked fit to kill.’

I snort.

Misbah parks the car beside a brand-new Jaguar sitting in front of the doorstep.

‘Then what happened?’

Misbah turns to me. ‘Omar went into his private office, not knowing I followed him in—he was that angry—and put in a video call to Yesmin. I thought he was going to let her have it.’

‘Did he?’

‘She must have known he knew what she’d done. As soon as she came on, her smile changed into this seductive type smile I never see.’ M chuckles. ‘Omar didn’t say anything. He just sighed and called her name. Then, she said “sorry” and promised to do stuff to him when he returned home. Omar melted. It was rather shocking to see.’ Misbah frowns in recollection.

‘Okay, Omar melting, I believe. He’s a sweetheart under the bluster. Yesmin doing all that stuff; that, I can hardly believe. She seems so gentle.’

‘Exactly. That’s how she does it.’

We walk to the metal door with ornate designs on it.

Before we raise our hands to knock, the door opens to reveal Yesmin barefoot. It always amazes me how lovely she manages to look with her petite stature. She’s gotten only lovelier with this pregnancy, now showing in the bulging belly.

‘Hey!’ Yesmin throws her arms open with a wide smile. She has on a long-sleeved, flimsy, flowered sundress similar to mine. Her hair is in a Million-braid style tied in a ponytail.

An automatic smile comes to my face. I bend slightly and we embrace.

‘Hello, beautiful. We heard your handiwork back there.’ Misbah comments casually, as we walk through the small foyer with framed photos covering the walls.

Yesmin lifts an eyebrow. ‘Which handiwork?’

‘“Misbah and girlfriend”.’

Because I am watching Yesmin’s eyes closely, I notice the light accompanied by an impish smile. ‘Did you like it?’

‘It’s certainly naughty.’ Misbah inclines his head with a smile. ‘As a matter of fact, we’re here concerning that.’

Yesmin’s eyes widen. She looks as if she is tamping down excitement.

‘Where’s Omar?’ With a sigh, I take a seat in the living room. The sofas are butter-soft, butt-receiving, leather sofas. The entire living room screams of muted wealth. It is elegant, but welcoming in a way that many homes cannot manage. I suppose it counts for a lot when the woman of the house is a professional interior decorator.

‘Hang on, let me go and get him.’ Yesmin hurries in the direction of the kitchen. Soon after, she comes in bearing a large tray with Omar beside her.

Misbah and I get up and reach out to collect the tray from her hands.

‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘She’s good, thanks. Omar says without inflection. ‘No help accepted here.’

Did he just make a joke? You can’t always tell with Omar.

I always marvel at the huge difference between Omar and Yesmin. One is huge and forbidding, unless you can see beneath the surface, in which case you’ll find pure goo.

The second looks like she can be easily dominated, with her looks and naïve, sunny outlook, but with mischief hidden beneath.

Omar looks like he can break Yesmin in half with one hand but they seem very happy together.

I would swear that they never argue, let alone fight, if not for these stories M tells me from time to time.

‘Brother.’ With a smile at Omar, Misbah inclines his head in greeting.

Omar returns the gesture with a straight face, and if you look closer, smiling eyes.

He turns to me, ‘Reana, looking lovely as ever.’

I smile at him. ‘Hello, Omar, looking scary as ever.’

A wide grin appears, transforming his entire face, like magic.

‘Thank you for that. You have the most beautiful smile.’

‘He does,’ Yesmin agrees with me. ‘I say things just to see him smile, and it is so rewarding when he does. You know, Reana, you’re the only person I know who can easily make Omar smile. I don’t suppose I should be jealous?’

This time, Omar laughs. ‘Maybe. Reana, you don’t mind becoming my second wife, do you?’

I giggle and glance at Misbah.

Misbah’s face looks as if he’s constipated. He shoots Omar a look.

Yesmin places the tray on the large table in the centre of the living room. She straightens slowly, ‘a very funny joke, babe.’

‘Who says it’s a joke?’ Omar asks in a casual tone, glancing at Yesmin.

Yesmin narrows her eyes at Omar for a long moment. Then suddenly, her face dissolves into a strange, crooked smile.

I know a subtle message has just been passed, but I know not what.

‘Okay, I was joking.’

‘Were you?’ Her smile widens.

‘It was a joke.’ Omar repeats.

Yesmin just stares at him with that sweet smile.

M holds a tall glass in his hand, smiling like an idiot staring at a show.

I return my glance to Omar.

He has his hands on Yesmin’s shoulders. He pushes her onto a sofa and leans over her.

Saying nothing, they stare into each others’ eyes.

At once, as if a switch has been flicked, Yesmin relents. With an eye roll, she slumps in the chair, ‘fine.’

Omar lowers himself into a squat until his head is near hers. He whispers into her ears. Whatever he says must be really nice because Yesmin’s eyes widen.

She nods over and over. ‘I won’t. I promise.’

Omar nods, ‘good girl.’ He winks at her, all with a straight face.

Her eyes do a flirtatious flutter at him, and her gaze sweeps down and away.

‘I don’t know what just happened, but that was beautiful.’

Both of them stare at me as if only remembering I’m present.

M laughs like a loon.

Omar sits on the edge of the sofa where Yesmin is seated, draping his arm over the back. ‘So, I hear my brother has finally decided to use his head.’

‘As well as other body parts,’ Yesmin mutters.

Omar snorts.

What? ‘Excuse me?’ I’m sure my face is in a slight frown.

Omar turns to Misbah. ‘Misbah, I hear you’ve finally gotten Reana pregnant.’

What?

Yesmin sends him a horrified look. ‘Omar,’ she says softly.

‘What? I wasn’t supposed to say it?’

‘You weren’t.’ She sends me an amused but sympathetic look. ‘You were supposed to allow them tell us first.’

‘Sorry for ruining the surprise.’ Omar does not look sorry at all.

‘No, you’re not sorry, Omar.’ Misbah says.

‘Okay, I’m not.’ He grins fully now. ‘Why should I be? Babies are a blessing.’

Yesmin grins too, clapping her hands. ‘Congratulations. Our babies are going to be best friends.’

What is going on?

Omar laughs. ‘Yes, although,’ Omar pauses with a pointed look at Misbah and me, ‘you two should have gotten married first.’ Then, as if unable to hold back any longer, he grins again. ‘Congratulations. This is great news.’

I catch Misbah grinning. When he glances at me, I shoot him a look.

He raises a hand. ‘Hold on. You guys know we are only friends, right?’

‘Yeah, we know.’ Yesmin says.

‘Friends who do more than I do with my friends, that’s for sure.’ Omar puts in.

Misbah and Yesmin laugh.

Okay, enough of this. ‘I’m not pregnant!’ That probably came out louder than I meant it to.

‘Sorry?’ Omar frowns in confusion.

‘You’re not?’ Yesmin asks softly.

‘No, I’m not. That’s not what we came to say.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry. I simply assumed … you guys looked so happy when you came in. I thought it must be ...’ Yesmin’s smile drops.

‘A natural enough assumption,’ Misbah nods.

Irritated with Misbah, I turn to him. ‘Oh, stuff it!’

‘What? I wasn’t the one who started the rumour.’ M raises his hands in a completely innocent gesture.

‘Yet you did nothing to dispel it.’

‘But ...’

‘Save it.’

Omar and Yesmin watch us with obvious interest.

‘Just friends, obviously.’

‘They even bicker exactly like an old married couple.’ Yesmin replies to Omar.

Ignoring their implications, I interject, ‘actually, that’s what we came to tell you guys.’

They both lean forward.

I glance at Misbah.

‘So, it looks like you guys weren’t far off the mark. We are getting married.’

Yesmin looks confused. ‘I thought you said you were just friends.’

‘We are.’ Misbah replies.

She turns to me. ‘And you are not pregnant?’

I shake my head. ‘No.’

‘But you want to get married.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Why?’

Omar watches the exchange silently.

‘We plan to have a baby together.’ Misbah puts in.

‘Let me get this straight. You are friends who want to get married and have a baby together?’ It is nearly comical how Yesmin is so intent on getting the story straight.

‘Yes.’ Misbah says with a nod and a bright smile. ‘That’s it exactly.’

Yesmin looks like she has something to say but does not know how.

‘It’s obvious what’s going on.’

‘Everyone, including me, turns to Omar for his explanation.

Omar now looks at Misbah and me. ‘You two have finally discovered you are in love, but are so deep in the friend zone that you can’t figure out how to get out. This is your creative way of handling it.’

I don’t think so.

‘My brother’s an idiot-’

‘Hey!’ M’s face scrunches up.

‘-but, welcome to the family, Reana, officially.’

‘Thank you. But you’re wrong. We aren’t in love.’

Omar’s smile is enigmatic. ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’

Yesmin gets up from her sofa and pulls me into an embrace. The height difference is not so ridiculous now that I’ve taken off my shoes, but I still have to bend. ‘Congrats, dear.’

‘Thank you.’ The knowing smiles bother me so—I don’t know why—that I feel the need to explain again. ‘You guys, we are not in love. We simply want a child together since neither of us wants to wait for the perfect love. We even agreed to leave the door open for either of us who meets someone later on. Right, M?’

After a slight hesitation, M answers. ‘Right.’

‘See? I mean, M is great, don’t get me wrong. I wish I were in love with him. It would make everything so easy. Like, I wouldn’t even care if he felt the same way before I claimed him forever.’

Strangely, no one laughs, not even when I laugh at my silly joke. They just keep staring at me.

So, I explain further, ‘but, we just don’t feel that way about each other. In fact, with this baby, we originally wanted to ado-’

‘Ree, darling? I think that’s enough.’ M shoots me a look that says I need to shut up.

 

***

 

‘Are you ashamed?’

I send M a confused look.

‘Of us,’ he explains. ‘Of what we are trying to do here, are you ashamed?’

‘Why would you even ask me that?’

He gives a casual shrug. ‘When people over-explain their actions, you know … I just thought you might not be too proud of it … or me.’

I recall the moment M is referring to. What I did back there could indeed be called ‘over-explaining’. I don’t know why I did that. When it comes to Misbah, I don’t understand what’s going on with me, but shame isn’t a part of it. Of this, I’m certain.

‘I could never be ashamed of anything to do with you, M. No one could ever be ashamed of a man like you.’

Misbah sends me a quick glance. He stays silent for a moment before speaking again. ‘Did you mean what you said back there?’

‘Which part?’

M’s lips quirk in an imitation of a smile. ‘Do you wish you were in love with me?’ He downshifts, makes a turn, and then sends me a glance.

Our gazes clash.

‘Do you really feel that way?’

I nod.

‘Hm. Question—if I were in love with you and you didn’t feel the same way? What would you do then?’

‘Are you?’

He smiles. ‘I could be.’

That’s what I thought.

‘Let me know when you know.’ I keep my tone casual, despite the hitch in my breath.

‘Hm. What if I said I don’t want you seeing other men? After we got married, that is.’

‘Don’t you?’ My head is pounding. I am not sure why I’m having these reactions.

Misbah releases a sigh. ‘Ree, could you give me a real answer?’

‘Sure,’ I return, ‘when you ask a real question and not the what-if kinds.’ I release a heavy breath. It’s time to change the topic. ‘Can we go by my house? I need to pick up more clothes and stuff.