CHAPTER ELEVEN
She felt a barrage of emotions. How much she had tried to rein in her heart. She was over the top in love with him, and he wasn't even helping. He was always on time when she needed him and gave her space when she needed the time alone.
Not knowing would have been nice. That she knew was the difficult part. If only...
She thought she recognized the signs. Being too practical and reasonable, she had ignored them by rationalizing every action rather than take it for what it was. Now, it was too late.
Smiling up at him as he opened the door for her. As she stepped out of the car, she clutched her purse to her chest as people literally stood up and stepped out of their stores to watch them.
His old neighborhood. How odd. That he'd once lived here. She'd driven him here before. That day had set everything else in motion for both of them. Things hadn't ended well that day. But it was different now. Now, he was courting her. And she saw a side of him she'd only assumed. He wasn't the overzealous type, but he was very committed as a Christian.
Their shared passion for the Lord was one thing she w as very grateful for. He told her it was his faith that kept him alive. The same can be said of her. Her faith meant everything to her. Her love for God was her most compelling force.
He led her through the narrow walkway which was barely wide enough for a comfortable walk and rounded a corner. She kept reminding herself that she wouldn't throw up and embarrass him.
The place was not overly dirty but it felt like things were crawling on her skin. And this had once been his home up until seven months ago.
When they finally arrived at his former place of residence, several kids who had been playing stopped and ran to hug him. They were all dirty from playing in the sand but Mark did not seem to mind. That only endeared him to her.
Mark ruffled a child's uncombed hair which undoubtedly had all kinds of insects in it, pinched her twin's cheek, tweaked a boy's nose and picked up the little infant at his feet struggling against the older children to get his attention.
The child grabbed at his nose with his sand-stained hand, laughing when Mark tickled his tummy and he let go.
How could she not love him more!
Adults began to come out of their houses when they heard the noise. She noticed how free he was with them. Although he told her he had kept to himself mostly except for Mr. Morris, his caretaker, she could tell that his neighbors had a fondness for him.
A slim woman with a bulging stomach stepped out of her house she immediately recognized as Mr. Morris' wife, a huge smile on her face and an amazing kind of authority despite her slimness, pushed others aside and gave him a motherly hug.
Samantha stood slightly away from the chaos mostly to get out of their way lack of desire to be a part of it.
Here, she thought, Mark had a family he had no idea of. A family that loved him. He obviously did not know that before.
She watched. That was the only thing she could do. Watch. It was like meeting her step siblings at the villa. It was a family reunion born out of love and understanding despite being just neighbors and not relations.
Mr. Morris appeared, carrying an empty bucket with a worn yellow towel that had seen better days slung carelessly over his shoulder. He was wearing a knee-length short and a white singlet. On seeing them, dropped his bucket and ran to them, giving Mark a brotherly hug.
She could not help the smile that came to her.
Some neighbors began to look at her with open curiosity. She quelled the urge to curl up someplace and hide. Even the children were looking at her curiously, one of them braved it enough to touch her bag.
It was Mr. Morris' wife who approached her. “Welcome, Miss.” Then she turned to Mark and scolded him in a manner only a mother would use on a misbehaving child. “Did you forget you brought a guest?”
“Mama Odi don dey blow grammar.” One of the neighbors teased in Pidgin.
The two women began bickering good-naturedly.
Mr. Morris smartly extracted his wife, reminding her that she was pregnant. This only made the neighbors tease her some more.
Mark's hand unexpectedly rested on the small of her back, sending a surge of electricity up her body and although she tried not to react to it, she let out a soft moan before she could stop herself. He glanced at her sharply and cautiously removed his hand.
Turning to the crowds, he made the introductions. “These were my neighbors and like a family to me; Mr. Morris and his wife, Paulina, Chucks, Dominion and Carol, and Madam Gift.”
She pushed her reaction to Mark aside and said “Hello”, grateful that her voice was cool and friendly enough.
He turned to her but avoided meeting her gaze. She knew he was also affected. Continuing with the introductions, he said, “This is Barrister Samantha Barigha. She's uh, my friend.”
Putting on a smile as they shook her hand mostly clumsily, she wasn't prepared for the shock that made her pause midway shaking Ms. Carol, a very fair lady, obviously well-educated who said before taking her hand in a gentle handshake. 'You must be one of George Barigha's daughters then, the richest black man in the world.'
Mark laughed, as did the others. “Carol, you need to stop reading so much.” Mark said amidst laughter.
Samantha relaxed a little but there were tied knots in her stomach and the smile she dredged up was now hurting her mouth but nobody noticed, not even Mark. Possibly, if he hadn't been laughing so much, he probably would have.
Mentally, she gathered herself together and shook off the unease before he'd notice. This was another part of her she didn't want people finding out as they often changed agendas and start asking for loans which they hope her father would give them. She had prayed that Mark wouldn't find out until she was ready to tell him herself.
“I bin dey think say I go bath finish, wear better cloth before una go come reach.” Mr. Morris said as his wife shooed him to go and put on some clothes.
“Caretaker, do come buy drink for visitor. And your tenants too.” One of the neighbor's teased him as he caved in to do his wife's bidding.
As they walked towards the seating area where chairs were being set out for them, Mark saw the look on her face and inquired quietly. She shook her head and put on a smile, using hand gestures to encompass the numerous people surrounding them.
She wouldn't spoil this for him.
Drinks were quickly served as they sat down and Ms. Carol went to her house and brought out some wine glasses.
As she poured a drink into Samantha's glass, she gazed at Samantha with a thoughtful frown on her face.
Samantha willed her hands not to shake as she hid her face in the glass. This was definitely woman who sort the internet as if it were basic food.
If Mark was to find out about me, Samantha thought, it wouldn't be this way.
∞ ∞ ∞
They were watching a movie in her living room. Mark's hand was draped over the couch touching her lightly. Deborah had gone to his house to get her clothes, having agreed with Samantha to visit every weekend and have a girl-to-girl time.
Mark had checked his watch and told her to hurry back. He had been checking the time since she left. Samantha glanced up at him again. She did whenever he checked the time.
She laid a hand on his resting on her shoulder. 'She's fine, Mark. She's not a child. And its daylight still.'
He grumbled, “She's wasting time. Before you know it, it'd be dark, and she's a girl, young and naive about a lot of things...”
Samantha smiled, “You've being grouchy. The 'girl' she air-quoted, isn't a child anymore and you don't watch over her while she's on campus, do you?”
She saw the chagrin look on his face and laughed. “Give her a break. She may have met someone and eloped with him to Vegas or Paris. I hear weddings are easier there.”
He could not help it and began to laugh. She always made him to laugh when he least expected it. His arm resting on her shoulder felt a charge flow through into his body, and he politely moved his hand away. There was no use tempting them both.
He knew his sister had only been gone less than forty-five minutes. How could he expect her to be back so soon?
He picked up the television remote and flipped through the channels. “This one's not funny.”
“Yes, you would know because you've been watching the TV and not your phone.”
Feeling reproached, he put down the TV remote. Every day, he wondered how it was possible she was in his life or the reverse. She was wealthy, successful. And to top it, she was an amazing person. As much as he's decided not to take advantage of her, he couldn't stop her each time she bought him something or sent money to his siblings at school.
Shaking his head, this is neither the time nor place to dwell on that, he reflected. Yeah, he'd done a lot of thinking since he started courting her. The money he had saved up could afford to buy a ring, he thought.
Again, not the time nor place.
She picked up the popcorn bowl and deposited it on his lap, laughing when he winced and bared his teeth at her.
The front door creaked open and before either of them could react, it closed with a loud bang and a teary-eyed Gracie walked in, dumping her bag on the floor and reached for Samantha who quickly got up and took her in an embrace.
Mark didn't have time to react to any of it, he just sat there watching.
Samantha took her weeping friend to one corner making sympathetic sounds, stroking her head lightly as she cast him a glance.
He should excuse them. Why he still sat there was beyond him. Gracie pulled of her friend's arms, causing Samantha to step back with caution but not out of arms reach.
“The bastard is already married.” Grace shouted.
The alternating look of horror and sympathy on Samantha's face should have warned him that he couldn't stay there, but he found himself unable to get up and leave.
After spending my money on him for two years! Gracie paced.
He noted that Samantha tried not to react but also saw now that she was deliberately avoiding his gaze. He should leave now but his limbs didn't respond.
“It's a few days to my wedding and I find out the bastard is already married and has a child.”
Huh? He really should give them some privacy. This was a woman to woman issue. His presence would only irritate Gracie even the more.
Now that he thought about it, he had avoided all her calls and text messages and has not been able to bring himself to tell her that he quit the favor she had asked of him.
“I picked him up from nothing, washed him up, spent my hard-earned money on him and his thank you was to go marry a white girl and have a child.” She laughed bitterly, then glanced at him, he saw, for the first time. Her face changed into a furious frown.
“You're dating him now?” She asked Samantha who neither responded nor reacted to her outburst.
“Forget about him, Sammy. This is who you are seeing that you didn't want me to know about.” Nodding as if she suddenly understood. He is just another dirty old rag I picked up, hoping the stench of poverty could be washed out of him.
Samantha darted a look at him in confusion.
“That day I went to return his diesel, I made a deal with him to go out with you. It's the reason I got him the job with the Chief Judge so that the reporters wouldn't find out he is just a dirty old rag.”
Samantha's eyes were pleading with him that the accusation was false, but he looked away, unable to deny that fact. How could he explain to her now that he had never had in mind to follow through with her friend's proposal?
“The same dirty old rag.' Gracie said scornfully. “You had your own scheme, I see. That's why you refused taking my calls or replying any of my messages. You already had your own plan in place.”
Balling his hands in a fist, Mark got up quietly not meeting either of the pair of eyes trained on him. He simply should have left when he had the chance. It was too late now. The damage was already done.
“Mark?” Samantha inquired softly.
How could I deny the accusation? She wouldn't believe him anyway.
The door opened, admitting his two siblings. For the first time in a long time, Mark swore.
They stood just inside the door, Goodluck carrying his sister's bag. They quickly assessed the situation and didn't step further into the room. He had no wish to drag his siblings into this mess. Why did they have to be so in time?
Gracie's eyes zeroed in on the two at the door, and they narrowed in suspicion.
Samantha she was wringing her hands, her eyes fixed on the floor. For nothing else, she hadn't wanted his siblings to witness this either.
“Brother?” Deborah inquired uncertainly.
“Well, well, well,” Gracie's voice dripped with sarcasm. “He didn't just come alone, he packed his entire family into the scene, played right into your large, soft heart, Sammy.”
Mark gave her a warning look but to her credit, she didn't cower.
“I should give you more credit than my ex fiancé. You appeared more real than he did but a rag all the same.” She looked him up from head to toe. “You should take your little family of rags and find a nice laundry to wash yourselves. Oh, I bet you can't even afford that.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Goodluck take an angry step forward. Quickly, he shot him a warning. Reluctantly, Goodluck stepped back.
“Now would be a very good time for you to take your minions and leave. Samantha doesn't get angry. Trust me, you don't want see otherwise.”
Samantha walked past him to the door and held it wide open, looking straight at her friend. “Now would be a good time for you to leave, Gracie.”
Gracie's eyes widened in shock. Samantha chose to ignore it. “All of you, please.”
How could he have done this to her? To his siblings?
“Sammy,” Gracie said casually.
Samantha ignored the plea and repeated more firmly. “Now is the best time for all of you to leave.”
Frustrated, Gracie shot him a look and picked up her bag, storming out of the house.
He saw the fear on his sister's face reflect in his brother's, then beckoned for them to leave.
“I'm sorry, Deborah.” Samantha said, “You too, Goodluck. This is between your brother and me. I hope you remember that.”
How could she still be thinking of others in such a situation? Did she never tire of being charming?
He stepped in front of her and lifted his hand to touch her face. She jumped out of his reach. From where could he begin to apologize? How could he begin to justify himself? In a manner of minutes, all the hope he had was slipping away.
He tried again pleading for her to give him a chance to listen.
She stepped out of his touch. “Don't touch me, Mark.”
The moment he stepped out of the door, she closed it with a soft click.
∞ ∞ ∞
She wouldn't cry, Samantha told herself. She wouldn't give them that satisfaction. Oh, God!! She wouldn't. Of all things to do, not that. Even feeling sorry for herself was not the answer. She couldn't cry. No, she was not going to cry.
Bolting the door, she went into her room and knelt down to pray. It was the only thing she could think of. It was the only thing she needed. Right this moment. In the place of prayer, she could allow herself to cry, not for the pain. In fellowship.
In prayer, she could cry herself out. She was allowed to weep in prayer to the One who has all the answers, not to some human with pathetic ability to cause harm, to cause pain.
She prayed for the broken, bitter woman who had once been her friend, who had turned vicious against the onslaught of the lustful flesh, craving for what she didn't have and hurting others in the process. Once, once Gracie had had a kind heart. Once. It all seemed so long ago. Rocking on her knees, she prayed fervently for the heart that had grown so bitter to be healed.
Not only in love with him!
Her body buckled feverishly.
Only one thing mattered to her now; If it was God's will for her and Mark to be together, everything would work out, everything would fall into place. It didn't matter what anyone else said.
She prayed for him- the shock on his face when her friend began to make the accusations. And the pain. The anger. The fear when he tried to touch her: fear of not being good enough, but hope that it wouldn't matter to her.
She prayed for his siblings as well. The bond she'd formed with his sister and all the fun they had together, it was like having another family she could lavish attention on. And his brother. He'd only started to relax around her.
Such anger and bitterness in her friend. What could have caused it?
When she was done praying, she wiped her face dry. She heard the quiet caution. In the morning, the same warning had come to her while she prepared to go to work and again when her friend had burst into the room and began to weep, she'd heard it again. Now, she understood what it meant.
Switching off the light in the bedroom, she took her car key and her bag and left the room. She turned off the television set in the living room and took the bowl of popcorn to the kitchen.
What she needed, she thought, locking the door behind her and hurries to her car, was sound counsel.
∞ ∞ ∞
Not feeling inclined to get up and answer the door, Mark looked up as Deborah eased the door open slightly and peered into the room, seeing him sprawled on the bed, she closes it and went to him, a look of concern her face.
He didn't want his siblings around him, not the way he looked, not with the way he felt. But always, they showed up to check on him, his brother had been coming in twice a week and his sister, every weekend. They were the only ones keeping him sane and on his feet.
'Brother.' She implored softly, sitting at the edge of the bed. 'You really need to eat. You've grown very thin.'
He saw the tears well up in his sister's eyes and pulled her in a hug. 'I'm fine, really.'
But they both knew he wasn't. They'd never seen him like this before, not even when he struggled through school, working to pay his tuition fees and still taking care of the family. But then, love has that effect on someone, didn't it? Especially when you feel like your heart has been ripped out and it was all your fault.
“I'm fine, Debbie.” He tried to assure her in a croaky voice.
She pulled away slightly to look at him. “But you need to eat. It's been 3 weeks. The Chief Judge came back while you're sleeping and said we should take you to the hospital.”
His lips twisted ever so slightly when he tried to laugh. But it came out as a croaked cough.
The Chief Judge had been calling daily, asking him to go to the hospital for check-up. He simply couldn't bring himself to tell him that his situation wasn't a medical condition but a result of his foolishness.
Deborah laid her head on his shoulder. “Samantha picked me up from the hostel today and took me out. She bought me a nice dress and shoes and a shirt for Goodluck too. He didn't want to go with us, so, he said he had to come here early, so he could do your laundry.”
His heart constricted. Nothing could excuse what he did to her, yet, she kept her word to his siblings and have been in constant communication with them. He already warned them not mention him for any reason to her except she came outright and asked.
How could he not love her? To him, she was the only which through his male ego had lied to her and lost. Probably forever.
After avoiding his phone calls the first eight days, he'd stopped calling, resorting to sending her long apology mails and text messages daily, almost hourly. Pathetically and hopefully, he'd gone ahead and bought a ring the next day after that unfortunate incident.
He'd been to her office, and she'd instructed her staff to tell him he was not welcome there. He could not summon the courage to try again seeing after her staff embarrassed him. The next day, at the office his colleagues had commented on his parlor and by the fourth day, his supervisor had granted him leave until he fully recovered from what ailed him. He'd found himself on the bed ever since, getting up on Sundays to go to church and then disappearing even before the service was over to avoid people asking him questions, ones he couldn't explain.
Deborah smoothed out the wrinkles on his forehead. “I'll bring your food, Brother. Try to eat at least half of it, please. For her sake. If she were to see you like this...” leaving the sentence hanging.
He pulled her ears as she jumped out of the bed. “When did you get so smart?”
“Since you turned the baby.” She giggled.