had the best gift on earth. Nothing else mattered as much as their love which bore fruits of compromise, care, respect and its root – God. May be her dream marriage wasn’t that far off, Richard seemed like the perfect man. All through the night, she kept weaving fantasies of herself and Richard. She would be the happiest girl in the world if Richard asked her to be his wife. What a wonderful life they would have together, loving each other and educating their kids on Godly principles. They would name their kids, Diamond, Sapphire and Pearl. She wanted nothing more than to grow old with that young man. Hmmm! But this meant she had to fasten her growth spiritually, she wouldn’t want him to think she wasn’t good enough for him.
Chapter Two
Wendy arranged her apartment, everywhere needed to be perfect when Charles came around. She was joyous. The only thing left to do was to convince Rita, her roommate, to vacate the room this weekend. Her eyes caught sight of the red nightgown in her partially open box which she had not worn yet and twinkled. She had just gotten that night wear yesterday from a classy boutique. The boutique attendant had told her that, brides to be mostly bought that particular nightgown to impress their husbands on their wedding night. She had no doubt that when Charles saw her in this, he would be convinced that she took their relationship with utmost seriousness.
Later, she would call Suzan and advise her properly. She had not said much earlier because of Little Miss Virgin. She believed that a woman must do everything humanly possible to keep her man. She truly sympathized with Suzan, Suzan was a reasonable girl and she trusted that things will work out for her soon. Suzan just needed to give it time. The person whose happiness she strongly doubted was Sarah. Guys loved loose, silly girls and Sarah was too uptight and smart for her own good. She couldn’t think of any single guy who would like to have a relationship with her, not with all her idiosyncrasies, the worst which was her ‘no sex until marriage’ rule. Which guy would be able to put up with that? In all her adult years, she had not met one man who could do without sex in a relationship. As she folded her clothes, the door opened and Rita Macaulay stepped in carrying a huge polyethylene nylon bag.
Wendy kept the last piece of cloth in her wardrobe then turned to face her effervescent roommate. “Ree, did you go to the market?”
Rita replied as she struggled to get out of her leggings. “Yes, I went to get foodstuffs. My sweetheart said he’s coming to see me today. I want to cook his favourite, Banga soup and pounded yam.” She tugged at her leggings until she finally pulled it off then dragged the nylon bag to a corner, all the while telling Wendy of how fiercely the sun burned her as she strode along the market and how rude some traders got when you tried to bargain with them. “That’s why many of them don’t make many sales. They’re so rude and the annoying part is that they’ll blame Satan for their misfortune, disturbing pastors for prayers when they’re the cause of their problems. I don’t even bother with them. When they start giving me attitude simply because I asked for a discount, I move to another trader.”
Wendy went pale as she envisioned her plans falling apart. She wasn’t listening to Rita’s rambling. She turned her back on her roommate as she wondered what step to take. Should she go over to Charles’ house? No, she couldn’t. For some time now, she had been the one going over, if she stopped him from coming this weekend, it might give room for suspicion in his mind that she was hiding something. Perhaps, she regularly paid for her share of the rent, she should be able to bring her boyfriend home whenever she wanted to. Rita was just plain selfish, never considering the fact that she also would like to have her boyfriend over. Well not today. Things had to go just the way she’d planned.
Rita brought out the yam wearily, “I really hate pounding yam. It takes too much energy. I’m only doing this in hope that he’ll get me a new phone. I don’t get why Roland has to be so traditional. If he preferred rice and stew, it would have been so much easier.” Thinking of how tiring the process of extracting oil from the palm kernel seeds were, she turned her gaze to Wendy who had not even bothered to offer a word of encouragement considering the fact that she was also going to be a benefactor of the delicacy when prepared. “What is it? You don’t look excited.”
Wendy pursed her lips but said nothing. Still concerned, Rita walked up to her. With her hands resting on Wendy’s shoulder, she urged her to share whatever issue had her so wound up. Wendy sighed then mimicked her roommate in an offensive manner, “My sweetheart is coming today” then she managed a cold laughter, building her anger steadily. “Would you stop the pretence already? We are both aware that you don’t love him.”
Rita’s face hardened as she removed her hand from Wendy’s shoulder like someone that had been scalded by an unexpected fire. “And what does that mean?”
Wendy rested her hands stiffly on her waist. “Please, don’t pretend with me. How can you say you love Roland when you’re sleeping with your boss?” The hurt look on Rita’s face didn’t even scratch the surface of her heart, if anything, it egged her on, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. How did you describe your relationship? Yes! You’re not his prostitute. You’re just his early morning breakfast or sometimes, lunch depending on his mood.”
All her life, Rita had never felt the urge to hit someone more as she did at present but she controlled her ravaging emotions. If she battered this woman, she’d later regret it because even though the situation appeared really ugly right now, she had love for this silly girl in her heart. Still looking at her cold face with annoyance, she remembered Mrs. Rhoda’s psychology class on managing temper. She took in a deep breath and counted from one to ten under her breath. Gaining control of her emotions, she dragged the nylon bag to where the stool was, just by the kitchen, sat and emptied the bag of groceries gently on the ground then slowly, started arranging them in the glass cupboard.
Wendy’s revulsion grew as it became obvious that Rita did not intend to reply her. That girl was a real pain in the ass. She called her a foul name then stalked off to the window, looking at the neatly tarred grounds. The ground could have as well been her heart. Apart from its rapid beating, she couldn’t feel a thing, not the cool air on her skin nor Rita’s hurt. She only saw hers washing away every dreg of happiness so she uttered an even fouler word under her breath this time. “How dare you keep me silent?”
“The last time I checked, how I live my life is not your business,” said Rita with a simper.
Wendy hit her fist angrily on the window panes causing it to make a loud, almost shattering noise. “It is, when my boyfriend has picked today to come and visit me.”
Rita paused at the sound of the noise but continued her work a while later, unperturbed. She was now used to Wendy’s unreasonable display of anger. She kept a seal on her anger and responded with a false calmness. “So? That’s not a problem at all. Since we live in a self contained apartment, you and Charles will stay at one end of the room while Roland and I will stay at the other end. All we’ll need to put up with is our sex moans.”
Now, Wendy really wanted to hit this girl but since she saw Rita beat up a rather hefty woman in their third month here, she had ingrained in her consciousness, never to get physical with her. “You say the most disgusting things, you really do.”
“That’s not a problem. Keep acting up, it’s a good thing I have no shame.” Rita stood up, folded her hands under her breasts and gazed at the neatly arranged groceries. Satisfied, she proceeded to her wardrobe to get some shorts.
Wendy knew that except she changed her tactics, the battle was as good as lost. Rita could be as stubborn as a mule at times. She mellowed down and came closer to Rita, calling her pet name apologetically. “Ree”
Rita snapped. “What?”
Wendy kept her hands on Rita’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t
