CHAPTER EIGHT
Not an episode, please. Samantha prayed. She wondered why she thought bringing her mom here had been a good idea.
“You look lovely as always.” The Chief Justice told her mother.
“I'm sure you don't know my name.” Her mother said to him, not attempting to smile. “Don't bother with fake pleasantries.”
Samantha turned an apologetic look at Mark. She knew he had had an encounter with her mother already. She needed to take her mother away from him. Fast.
“My meeting is over, Mother.”
“I hear this young man is your friend.”
Samantha's back stiffened. No. Please, no.
With a great force of will, she turned to face her mother not bothering to look up 'Yes, Mother.'
'How is it that I haven't met him before?'
Lord, no, please.
'We are just friends, ma.' Mark answered instead since it was obvious that the atmosphere was about to explode.
She could feel tears coming already.
'Why? She doesn't look like a wife material?'
Involuntarily, Samantha's mouth dropped open, shocked out of her shell for the first time at her mother. Her mother was literally trying to sell her off to the first prospect that walked by.
She turned to look at Mark to signal for him not to respond and saw he looked just as shocked as a did, but she could see the muscles tense. He was very angry. Samantha couldn't say she had ever seen him that angry before.
Samantha gave her mother a pleading look, 'Mother, please...'
It was absolutely possible to hate your own child, thought Samantha. The look her mother gave her was that of pure hatred directed at her own child.
'I don't remember asking for your opinion.' Aisha directed her attention back to Mark. 'Well, you didn't answer my question.'
Despite his anger, he smiled at her mother, 'I do like your daughter, ma. I just don't think I'm of the class to ask her out.'
Samantha shook her head. His innocent answer was not at all innocent. He didn't know anything about Aisha Barigha. He had never...
'Take a good look at yourself.' Aisha said to her. 'You don't know that by being so busy with work you're pushing away every possible suitor forgetting that a woman's place is to be humble so that a man can look and see a wife material that can bear him children.'
Samantha covered her eyes as hot tears stung her eyes, 'Mother, please...' Choking back tears that fell anyway.
'Whenever I introduce you to young men, they always end up marrying other younger women. You think you're getting younger? When you hit menopause and no man wants to look at you anymore, is that when you'll cut back on work and start looking for a husband?'
'Haba, Hajiah!' The Chief Judge tried to intervene.
Mark took a step towards Samantha hugging her stiff body. How could she justify her mother to him? How could she tell him this was really the woman who gave birth to her?
'Alhaji, this girl is very ungrateful. If I kept such high standards, would I be married today?'
'I know how you feel, Hajiah.' The Chief Judge said, trying to mollify her. 'It's their generation to like being pursued.'
'God forbid that she came from my bowels...'
'Let's get you out of here.' Mark whispered to her.
Samantha tuned out her mother's voice and nodded against his chest. He extracted her bag from her limp hand and led her away, the Chief Judge still trying to calm her mother down.
∞ ∞ ∞
Mark kept driving. He didn't have a specific direction in mind. He wanted to get her as far away from the scare that was her mother. For a mother to openly embarrass her child, a grown adult who no longer lived with her was unheard of.
He chanced a glance at her and his jaw hardened. He could tell this wasn't the first time this episode occurred. It felt too natural to have been a one-time event. Having to see her tear up was just unbearable.
Why would her mother humiliate her so openly? It was just too much.
All the years he searched for a good job, then, doing odd jobs to keep his siblings in school, settle his house rent and take care of his parents, he had never encountered anything like what he'd just witnessed.
She was huddled in the passenger side, clinging to the door, his heart bled. He knew Samantha to be a strong woman. This was not a side he thought he could see. It grieved him to see her hurting so.
He stopped the car and helped her down, making sure to keep her face hidden from curious stares directed at them. He led her to sit on the stump of a tree, keeping her within his peripheral view, yet maintaining a distance that allowed her some space as he too needed to walk off his growing anger.
She buried her face in her hands, her sobs growing louder now. It pained him to watch her cry. It tore at his heart that someone could hurt such an amazing woman.
With his hands in both pant pockets, he strolled away to cool off some steam. It all came together now- it began to make sense why she had proposed to him, what her sister has said. After several years of nagging from her mother, it was no wonder she'd sought any means to get married. He could find no fault with her reasoning. If he had agreed to her proposal then, this incident never would have happened. He probably would have fallen in love with her anyway because she was such an exceptional woman with a large heart.
Making sure to keep her within view, he kicked himself over and over again for not agreeing to marry her. Samantha deserve better than to be bullied into marriage.
At that thought, Mark sobered. She deserved no less than a real proposal. He would make sure she married for love whether he was around or not.
Disconcerted by the thought of her marrying someone else, Mark started back to where she sat, as she looked around for him. Her tears were gone but her eyes were red and puffy.
He retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. She blew her nose, dabbing at her eyes. Their eyes locked as be lowered down on his knees in front of her.
'I'm sorry.'
Her heartbeat stopped and picked up rapidly as he offered the single apology.
It wasn't his fault her mother was so vicious with words. She should have prepared for it. She should have guarded herself from being hurt by her mother's tongue, should have been used to it after all this time, but nothing had prepared her for the humiliation. It was barely working trying to mend a broken friendship with Mark. He didn't deserve to be put on the spot like that. This was one step too far her mother had gone and it was about time she stopped these scenes from happening. Mrs. Aisha Barigha was about to wake up from the illusion that she still had the right to run her daughter's life.
Mark touched her face, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the leap in her stomach, yet not sure what to do with it.
'I am truly sorry for what happened back there.' He said in a whisper, causing goose pimples to rise on notice.
Samantha refused to open her eyes, lest the dream shatter. She ducked her head slightly, opening her eyes. 'It's not your fault. I shouldn't have broken down like that.'
'I will not be such a gentleman with the next person that will put it a tear on your face. Do you understand?'
Hope leapt up within her and she nodded. Suddenly feeling shy from his scrutiny, she ducked her head again.
'Look at me,' He prompted softly.
Her heartbeat quadrupled and her breathing changed. Butterflies did a concert in her belly. 'I'm fine.' She did not want to start what she would lose the nerve to finish.
Mark gave her a lopsided smile. 'I can see that.' Rubbing his thumb against her cheek.
Samantha registered the signs. She couldn't let him do anything out of pity. That was something she needed to establish. She would not subject him to make any decision out of pity.
With a bravado she wasn't feeling, she leapt up. 'I'm fine, really.'
He was still kneeling down, his brows raised in inquiry.
'Race you to the car.' Not sure where that came from, she hesitated only briefly, seeing his expression change to amusement before she took off.
Unknown to her, Mark stood up, a contemplative smile on his face. He stood there with a grin on his face before he began walking after her.
∞ ∞ ∞
'You have a beautiful home.' Mark observed out loud as she put the car to park and stepped down.
'Thank you. Did my mother return to the house?' She asked gatekeeper.
'Yes, Madam. She come carry small madam things.'
Mark's attention reverted to her face when she chuckled, shaking her head. 'Thank you, Kevwe.'
'I just see your mother face like this eh, na im me sef arrange.' The gatekeeper said demonstratively with his Warri accent.
Mark shook his head, holding back the laughter. But Samantha did not feel such any such inhibition. She laughed carefree and that gave him more joy than he'd ever felt in her presence. Her laughter was sweet and infectious, and he wished he could always make her laugh like that.
'You're so funny, Kevwe.' She told the gatekeeper, leading Mark into the house but not before the gatekeeper gave him an I've-got-my-eyes-on-you look.
Ridiculously, her mother still kept a grudge. Moving her sister's things out of the house was so juvenile. If anyone was permitted to be angry, Samantha only reserved that right. Being humiliated was not something she'd had on her to-do list today.
She gazed at the empty wardrobe in her sister's room, the room she'd decorated alongside her baby sister. Her mother's intent was to make everyone miserable. Why punish Rita for a fight that had nothing to do with her? They both usually looked forward to spending time together every weekend.
She joined Mark back in the sitting room. He was staring at the pictures on the wall. He looked fascinated at the trophies on the half shelf, a look of intense wonder on his face. She recognized the one he picked up with reverence and smiled, moving to join him.
'You have no idea what this means.'
'I know. I won them, remember? My passion remains with these kids, even after they have been placed in homes and given the right attention. I want to know that they enjoy staying where they are, and they are doing well.'
He put down the trophy and for a long time, he stared at her graduation photo framed on the wall. His gaze flickering between her and the photo, a thoughtful frown on his face.
'You bloomed with age.'
It was so unexpected that she felt herself flush although that could not be possible with her complexion. Mark hit the mark with his description. She had actually bloomed and glowed with age.
'Are you blushing?' He asked incredulously. 'I'm sure you are used to compliments like that.'
No words came. Compliments were normal experience for her but coming from him made all the difference.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them, each absorbed in their thoughts. It was a defining moment and they both recognized that.
'I want to apologize for any prejudice I had about you. You're a good friend to have.'
Her heart fell. This was not what she'd expected, but she also felt relief. Mark was truly a good friend to have. It's taken a considerable amount of time to come to such a realization, and she was glad he felt the same way. This was what she was ready for- to have a friend not a lover or a husband.
'Thank you, Mark. You are a true friend I never knew I had too.'
His open smile softened her heart further. It transformed his face into boyish delight. That was a smile she'd like on her baby. She didn't dwell on that thought though.
'We were on our way to a wedding but since my mom obviously has changed her mind, would you mind being my plus one?' Samantha wasn't usually impulsive. She found out otherwise being around Mark.
He opened his mouth to respond, then looked down at himself, offering an apologetic smile.
'You look great, Mark.' She assured him sincerely. She'd admired him when she had arrived at the Supreme Court that morning seeing how his muscles punched at the sleeves of his jacket, his broad chest was clearly visible on the shirt he wore. He was perfectly sculptured and wouldn't change anything on him. It had made all her nervous about talking to him.
'I don't have to any gift to present.'
She looked at him with a smile. 'Neither do I. Come on. We'll pick something on the way.'
He looked dubiously at her, admitting defeat but happy to do so.