Hi. Welcome to yet another Wednesday. So, how have you been? I am good, happy to still be writing for you…lol. Ok so as I’ve been saying, we’ll be ending this story soon. Soon because I haven’t yet settled what chapter that’s going to be on. You can suggest. Read all chapters here and did you read yesterday’s poem? Find it here. So yes, let’s read today’s.
Kate staggered into the living room, squinting still to the bright light that met her when she woke up. She searched the empty seats, leftovers of the embarrassment from last night hanging on her. Whenever she remembers the way she came unto her husband, so intense and needy, she still feels her face flushing with shame and still a little fear. How did she come to love him so much and be so drawn to him? So much even after these rough two years of their marriage. However hard she tried the five minutes she sat up in bed after waking to look inward and scoop out an answer, she got none. She chuckled and leaned on the kitchen wall. Her husband, Kwaku was bent over the sink. He didn’t notice her for some time. When he did his face lit up. Kate smiled.
“I decided to let you sleep in.”
Kwaku stayed on his wife’s face, holding contact with her eyes as though if he looked away, he will forget how they look.
“Mm” Kate kept her smile. “Did anyone call?”
“No.” He responded, alternating between his wife’s face and the sink. “You were expecting someone to?”
Kate run her hand over her face and covered her mouth as she yawned. She rested her head toward the door frame.
“I thought Dzidzor or dad will.”
“They did.” Kwaku held the fridge open and brought out the mayonnaise. Kate watched on, a laugh lurking around the corners of her lips. “They called on my phone though.” He moved again to the sink, oblivious of Kate’s amusement. “I think your battery died. I put the phone on charge by the wardrobe. I thought you’d see it.”
“Mm.” Kate tried hard to stifle her laughter. Kwaku turned to her.
She covered her hand with her mouth and turned towards the hallway.
Kwaku cleaned his hands on the napkin and propped both elbows backwards onto the sink.
Kate steadied herself so she doesn’t fall over with the laughter. Kwaku turned again to the sink.
“After the first month, I had to make a choice.”
He said, cracks of laughter filling the voids of what has been guilt all this while.
“Who taught you?”
“YouTube chefs and Google.” Kwaku lifted the salad out of the sink. “And memories of your cooking.” He put the salad in the fridge and winked at Kate. “We’re eating my homemade rice pudding with high rich fiber wheat bread and of course, salad for breakfast.”
“Rice water you mean and more like brunch.” Kate chuckled. “But I love the meal. I suppose I won’t have the ability to walk from the dining table after.”
“Of course.” Kwaku had his chin up in the air, his chest out. “That’s the plan, milady. After the meal, we’ll sit and talk all day long.”
Kate shook her head amidst laughter.
“So, do I get to help?”
Kwaku was on putting the saucepan with rice on the stove.
“Fair enough.” Kate cleared her throat. “I’ll ask leave of you and go get showered.”
She turned to go.
“Kate.” Kwaku called after her, his expression sober and honesty exuding from it. “I love you.”
Kate reeled in her husband’s affection as she walked to their bedroom and throughout her bath. Some minutes, she has to stop herself to ask if this whole thing is real — the way her life has changed these past months and these couple of days. As they ate their late breakfast, talked about each other’s response to the difficulties in their marriage and prayed for a fresh start, committing to the supreme leadership of the Spirit of God in their home, Kate was certain she was living a dream; a dream written long ago in eternity by the only Father who has never cast a doubt of His love for her all her life. And she was thankful the way Kwaku held sexual intimacy off till after they knew which way to go. She, for the fact, can never question the truth of her love for him and her willingness to stay and be his wife. She valued the way he had asked her to stay after the talk. He had said it as though she wasn’t in their home as if she hadn’t given herself to him in their kitchen last night. He had pleaded like he would have sitting before herself and her father like he would have actually wooing an offended wife; all like she hadn’t right before just confessed her own faults. She laid her head on Kwaku’s chest.
“What about the job?”
They hadn’t touched on that the whole two hours they spent talking and praying. She knew Kwaku will want to keep it off awhile and not treat it as a priority with their marriage. She loved that about him.
“I’ve talked to a few friends.” Kwaku spread both arms, above his head on the settee. “But Sule has given me my first job.”
“He has?” Kate laid still, fidgeting with her nails. “Is Paps getting that big?”
“I believe. They’re looking at moving to a bigger place. He told me he may have even struck a merger or something of the sort with a big restaurant.”
“That’s great. So you do the paperwork?”
“We haven’t discussed at length for the time being. But pretty much.”
“Mm.” Kate twitched her lips thinking. All the days she spent with the Awoonors, she thought of the possibility and once, mentioned it to Senam. “Kwaku.” She decided to take the risk. “You know I could do my MO and get my permanent license in three years.” She waited for any response from him. He didn’t say anything. “I think I should. You know, I could work even when the babies come and part-time after the Medical Officer duty somewhere.”
“Sounds you’ve settled to go back to work.”
“No.” Kate sat up. “I’ve not settled. I’ve been thinking about it lately.”
“After I quit my job?” Kwaku felt the sting of his ego as he asked. “We have enough till I get a permanent one.” He still didn’t look at Kate’s face. “You don’t have to work to help me.”
“Kwaku, I’m your wife.”
Kate didn’t want to point out he was letting his pride get the better part of him again and remind him of how he confessed about that and prayed about it and promised her he’s going to let her be his helpmeet, his wife. Nonetheless, Kwaku got the message. When the last words got out of his mouth, the Holy Spirit shot him back to moments ago.
“I’m sorry.” Kwaku smiled. “It’s going to need more than prayer and a pledge.”
“You really want to go back and practice, I’ll let you.”
Kate hugged him, ignoring the gnawing thought of how long his pledge of change will last. She was determined not to home any doubt to God’s working in her marriage. None.
“About the calls, someone else called too.”
Kwaku thought to mention after Kate has called her dad. But he decided against it.
Saying the name still hasn’t settled well on Kate’s tongue. All twenty-eight years, she’s never called anyone mother.
“Yes. When are you meeting her?”
“I don’t know. Taking my bath, I thought I will like to meet her together with Dad.”
“Not a bad idea. Then we should call him…” Kwaku’s tone took on that of a tease. “…on your phone.”
“Okay.” She got up and came back from their bedroom with her phone. “Overcharged.” She pressed the power button, sitting back beside Kwaku. “I should call Dzidzor too.” She began to scroll through her contacts when Dzidzor’s call came through. She held it up to Kwaku as she shook her head and giggled.
She pressed herself into Kwaku, lifting both legs into the settee.
“Kate.” Dzidzor sounded shaken. “I’ve been calling you.”
“Yeah. Kwaku told me you called him.” She responded, confused.
“I called after that.”
“Alright.” Kate decided she must be thinking too hard about Dzidzor’s visage over the phone. “I wanted to call you back and ask about Sule and also book that appointment with your mum and dad for myself and Kwaku.”
“Okay.” Dzidzor exhaled hard over the line. “I’ll do that but first I called because I think you and especially Kwaku should know.”
Kate elbowed Kwaku to signal him and put the call on loudspeaker.
“My mum got off the phone with Matey’s mother. He’s at Ridge hospital. Apparently, he was drunk driving last night and got involved in an accident. He’s in surgery.”
Kwaku felt the rest of the call rush by like a breeze: the exchange between Kate and Dzidzor on when they could visit, how Dzidzor is holding up, everything. All he could hear was Sule’s voice telling him about Tara’s experience with a stark resemblance of Matey and Pamela’s, a colleague at his former workplace, about how she swore she smelt alcohol in Matey’s water and his own voice last, laughing and dismissing both. He dug both palms into the settee, holding on tight and wondering what the cost of his dismissal is. It’s too late but deep down, he can’t deny the conviction after both conversations to talk with Matey. He had wondered what there will be to say.
Now, he knew he should just have said anything.
©M’afua Awo Twumwaah 2017.