20/20
He took the steps two at a time, long legs eating up black-tiled structures; the escalator seemed too slow for him.
In his suit jacket, his cell phone rang insistently in discordance (and distraction!) to his movements. He did not attempt to answer its summons. When Lily called, she was relentless. The etiquette, which stated if the receiver didn’t pick up after two trials meant something, didn’t apply to her. Particularly when she called him. Her rule was to stop after a dozen attempts. Then follow it up with an equal number of messages in rapid succession.
He was close to the cinema when her unique ringtone filled up his car. By the time he found a parking space, she was on her fourth run.
He was horribly late. He knew and was indisposed to apologize yet again for the millionth time in two weeks. He’d see her soon, and hopefully exonerate himself and make it up to her later.
Honestly, he wasn’t keen on sitting through a movie with her. Why couldn’t she just see it alone and fill him in later? It had taken superhuman strength to tear himself away from the office. Why waste 90 minutes stuck to a chair in a dark enclave when he could use the same time wisely — making some serious money?! But he had been less than stellar to her in the last month, and her complaints about his attitude towards them had been as valid as they had been truthful. History seemed to be repeating itself in his life.
His ‘phone ceased its vibration. The ping sound of incoming messages took over. He smiled wryly.
A sea of people greeted his arrival at the ticketing lounge. He scanned numerous profiles for Lily’s round face and … what hairstyle did she have on again? She must have changed the weave or was it a wig he’d seen her with the last time? Jeez! He couldn’t even remember what was on his girlfriend’s head!
His eyes swept the crowd of faces in front of him again, searching frantically for Lily’s familiar one. He began to walk slowly across the area. No luck. He was averting his gaze and reaching inside his jacket simultaneously when a female, detaching herself from the crowd, caught his eye.
Hand halfway to his pocket, he stopped walking and watched her glance down at the tickets in her palms before looking up and away. For a moment, he forgot the journey to the insides of his suit jacket.
How long had it been? He wondered. A year? Two? She looked the same. Straight permed hair with streaks of gold highlights, of equal neck length, parted on the left and framing her heart-shaped face. He had liked that about her. No weaves. No braids. Just glorious hair he never tired of losing his fingers in. Was she fuller below or the pair of sky-blue jeans palazzos she had on was playing tricks with her figure? Tranquil, content air which had initially drawn him to her still swirled about her Even in this crowded area, it still wielded a similar effect on him.
The next minute he found himself by her side. She sensed his presence and turned. Her face lit up with a smile as recognition set in; it was like a lighthouse beaming warmly, guiding a ship to safety from turbulent waters.
“Dave! Hello!” She leaned in for the briefest of hugs, her hand brushing his side for a moment.
When she pulled away, he was reluctant to let go. She smelt good. The way he remembered. How many times had he replenished her stock of signature scent? More than was necessary. “I heard you got married.” He kept his voice casual, subtly searching for the telling sign of commitment. “Congratulations.” And adopting a look he hoped reflected his words.
She nodded, the smile widening. “Four months now.” The plain silver band she held up shone against her dark skin. “I couldn’t wait for you.” Her accompanying laugh brought memories he didn’t realize still existed in his mind.
His smile was a little forced. “I’m sorry, Imani.” Were his next words. “I never got the chance to say that properly back then. We were good together. “
She consented. “When we were together.” She paused. “How is Funmi?” She inquired suddenly.
His smile came naturally this time around, transforming his once solemn, angular face. “Thriving. Expanding. Making money.”
Funmi was the name she’d christened his real estate outfit while they were dating. “Your business is the equivalent of the other woman!” She’d hiss whenever he missed a planned outing, forgot an important date, couldn’t get away from the office or plain kept her waiting forever.
“You spend more time at the office than with me.” She told him more than once. Three months into the relationship, the business was experiencing an unprecedented boost which required Dave and his partner’s presence constantly. “I feel like I’m in a long-distance relationship, Dave. Yet we live in the same town. It’s crazy.”
“This is only for a while, baby.” His excuse was standard. He wanted to spend time with her; he liked her a lot, but he hoped she’d understand that his business was at that point. Starting as a small architectural design firm, they transformed into a building construction outfit. The exclusive party where he met her had also provided the needed break for the firm. Dave and his partner had networked like their lives depended on it that evening; their doggedness had paid off.
Taking a breather at the bar moments later, he joined a lone female nursing a drink and chuckling into a mobile phone. He was drawn to her. The self-assured sweep of her gaze as it came to rest on him. Her smile seemed to beam away his troubles. Tranquil, content air he wanted around him too. Her name was Imani and her father, the 70-year-old celebrant.
Perhaps if he hadn’t known that piece of information. Or watched her join the immediate family as they danced together to the continued health of their patriarch, seeing beyond the group of individuals and into the sheer opulence displayed in their attires, decor, catering, etc. Perhaps their relationship, which took off weeks after, would have thrived.
But Dave was always aiming higher. For himself. He never wanted to relive his childhood of lack, of never having enough, of barely scraping by, of looking up to stingy and benevolent family members alike to assist. For her. When he remembered she went to a finishing school in Switzerland and he’d hustled his way through university, he chased more projects. For her mostly. When he couldn’t fathom how a lady of her background could give him the time of day, let alone be his girl, he followed the zeroes to Abuja and Kano, Port Harcourt and all around Lagos, never forgetting to return with souvenirs for her but forgetting to put in the work to make them work. To maintain the standard and comfort he’d met her in. To give her everything he thought she wanted. To outdo her upbringing. To measure up to her father. Everything except what she yearned for most — more time with him.
“You remind me of my father, of my childhood.” She said over the last telephone call they had; he was away for a week in Ghana. They had been clocking a year together. Out of 365 days, she claimed to have seen him for 90. Sometimes for less than an hour. And he wasn’t a government official.
He didn’t doubt her once. Things were happening in the blink of an eye at the office. It was exhilarating and gave him a rush of excitement to watch his dreams fall into place. “My mother was always alone with us, like a single parent. She was surrounded by her husband’s wealth — material possessions and money at her disposal. Domestic staff to do her bidding and a large house she knew not what to do with.” Imani droned on. “The most unhappy woman I knew if ever there was one. I don’t want that life, Dave. I can’t talk to your gifts, or make memories with them.” She drew a breath. “You know how I feel about you, but I can’t do this anymore.”
It was the last thing he expected her to say. “Give me until I return in two days, baby. Let’s talk about it and work something out.” He was already gathering her souvenirs.
“Nothing will change! How many times have we had this conversation? How many times have you promised to do better?”
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“I don’t want to lose you.” And he meant every word; he liked her a lot and wanted her in his future and his business as well.
“And I never totally had you. Goodbye, Dave. Have a nice life.”
At first, she didn’t return any of his calls or respond to his pleading messages either. Until two weeks later with a terse Enough of this, Dave! Stop bugging me! message on WhatsApp. He never got through to her on that number again; he was uncertain if she had blocked him or changed her line completely.
When he finally went by her sprawling family mansion, the uniformed security at the gate unblinking told him: “Miss Imani has travelled.” No, he had no idea of her return date. After that, he became reticent.
He didn’t realize how much he’d miss her until she was no longer in his life. He thought of her more, ironically, when he was working; something he rarely experienced before. Force of habit made him instinctively purchase souvenirs during his trips until he remembered they were no longer an item. He’d burned that bridge.
In time, news filtered in that she was out of the country. He didn’t know he still cared and hoped for both of them until the information put him in a foul mood, his innocent employees at the receiving end.
After that, nothing until the marriage news brought her back into his consciousness, and his current relationship was peppered with familiar remarks from Lily. He didn’t seem to have done any better by the woman in his life.
“So how many children do you both have now?” Imani teased.
He laughed aloud. “We’re still working towards —” He noticed the tall, dark stranger walking purposefully towards them, clutching popcorn and drinks.
The stranger needed no introduction when he stopped beside Imani for she beamed that smile of hers up at him, except there was something different about its delivery — warmer, lingering.
“Dave, this is my husband, Ken.” She effected introductions. “Dave is an old friend.” She informed the other man.
Ken had no free hand to extend, but he broke into a smile and nodded amiably. “My pleasure, Dave.” Then he turned to his wife. “We’re running late.”
Dave responded likewise before addressing his ex. “It was nice seeing you again, Imani. Enjoy the movie.”
As she rested a hand on her man’s arm, she slanted Dave one last glance. “Thanks. I will. Good to see you too.” And her attention riveted on the man beside her as they began to walk toward one of the halls.
Dave stared until they disappeared. Only then did he deliberately bring himself back to the present. Only then did he realize Lily was nowhere in the immediate surroundings. The truncated journey to this inner jacket pocket was completed this time.
About half a dozen messages from Lily lit up his screen. She couldn’t make it; some emergency at work. Could they reschedule?
Surprise. Surprise. This was usually his department — apologizing, disappointing. Now he had gained back some time. Back to the office it was for… He stopped mid-thought. Instead, he dialled her number.
“I’m so sorry, darling.” She gushed into his ears, speaking first. “It was so sudden, and I tried — ”
“How long are you in the office for?” He cut in gently.
She sighed. “At least an hour and a half.”
“Right. I’ll see you soon.”
She was silent. “You’re coming over?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“With dinner too. Since you can’t be here.”
“Who are you and what have you done to my man?” She asked suddenly.
He laughed. “Rotisserie chicken and Caesar’s salad? Spring rolls?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
He headed back the way he came; the staircase looming ahead. He liked her. Maybe not as deeply as Imani but he didn’t want to mess this relationship up too. He wanted to change. To do better by her.
He began to run down the stairs.
