Two Weeks Later

Ada had been looking forward to putting space between herself and Ebuka, and had been thinking about how to avoid him, but it would seem he had the same plan, because she hadn’t seen him for the past two weeks.

She should have been happy, but she missed him; his jokes, his smile, and the attention he had paid her all through the previous month. She had known he was only being a good Christian brother, yet, she still felt the emptiness that the distance created.

However, her life was getting better, the people here liked her, and she was saving up her salary. Next term, Richard would go back to school. Nothing made her happier.

She was clearing the service table after staff breakfast when Gladys came in. Ordinarily, her sister’s presence would have unsettled her, Gladys rarely missed an opportunity to embarrass her in front of people who respected her and valued her work, but in the last two weeks, Ada had changed.

They were not close or anything like that, but the biting remarks had reduced, and for some reason, Ada was convinced that it had a lot to do with Ebuka.

“Good morning, Ada Grace. How are you? You are getting chubbier and fairer. This place is good for you.” Gladys said, and Ada simply smiled.

“Good morning. What brings you here today?” she asked, and Gladys paused, contemplating whether she should answer.

“I came to see Ebuka. I want to know if he is doing better, but I heard he’s not here.”

A panic wave rose within Ada.

“What is wrong with him?”

“His father is sick. Two weeks ago, the man slumped in his block making industry.”

“Oh my God!”

“Nothing to fret about, the man is like eighty years old, I don’t know why he’s still working. Anyway, Ebuka has been worried sick. You would think he wants the man to live forever.” Gladys said, rolling her eyes.

“No one wants their parents to die, no matter how old.” Ada retorted, her heart went out to Ebuka, wishing she could help in any way. Now, his absence made sense. He wasn’t avoiding her. 

“I guess you are right, especially because his father was actually both father and mother to him. His mother left when he was young, and they had only each other for such a long time.” Gladys said, and the way she said it, Ada sensed some longing, as though she wished to be the person in his life. Their friendship had always been strange to her. She had assumed that they were dating in school, but what started as a school father and daughter relationship simply morphed to them being best friends.

Ada didn’t know why, but suddenly, she felt the urge to know if Gladys had feelings for Ebuka. Her sister had never been attentive to anyone except him.

“Do you have feelings for him?” Ada asked and Gladys rolled her eyes.

“Why would I ever have feelings for him? He’s my friend, that’s all.”

“I am sorry I asked. You just seem to really like each other.” Ada explained.

Gladys scoffed.

“I can like a man, and simply be his friend. I am not you! The first time you had a male friend in your whole life, you married him, and we see where that led you.” Gladys said, then gasped, realising that she had gone too far.

“I am actually sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Gladys muttered in an attempt to apologise, but Ada simply nodded. She had brought this upon herself.

“Have a nice day.” Gladys said, and left the room.

Ada took a very deep sigh, telling herself she wouldn’t let it get to her, but knew she was failing. Gladys was not wrong, isn’t that why after a little attention from Ebuka, she was already catching feelings.

“Oh Lord, help me! I don’t want to be that type of girl.”

You are not that type of girl.

She was still trying not to beat herself down when Chinelo came in with a special request, one that she could not refuse, and if she told herself the truth, it was a request she was grateful for.

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Ebuka rose from his knees.

He had been spending some time in prayers for the past two weeks, going on intermittent fasting, praying to God to preserve his father’s life. The doctors had said there was nothing they could do. He slumped, not from his pre-existing condition of high blood pressure, but from old age. By their prediction, he could die any day.

Ebuka didn’t want him to die, not till he married and gave him at least one child. The man deserved that much in life, after the fate life dealt him. Fifteen years ago, when Ebuka was an undergraduate, his mother had come to apologise for leaving them, and because of his dad, he had forgiven her. However, they were not close and didn’t have a relationship. She had another family, and didn’t want the drama of another child outside her home. Still, his father had helped him understand that when you forgive, you do yourself a favour and set yourself free from hurt, but when you hold on to pain, you give the offender power over your mind.

He was a good man. He did not deserve to die alone in his bed. That was why Ebuka remained by his side, afraid to let him go, and  for the first time in two weeks, his father asked him for goat meat pepper soup. Ebuka had been so excited that he quickly put a call through to Chinelo.

In excitement that his father was going to recover, Ebuka knelt in gratitude to God. He was rising from his praying position, when the company official car drove in. He rushed out of the house into the compound to take the meal for his father. However, instead of seeing Alex, it was Ada who met him halfway.

Ada.

The lady he had been trying very badly to get out of his thoughts.

The lady he sensed God was saying was the one.

The lady with the kind of baggage he wanted to avoid.

In that moment, as she walked towards him, in her yellow flowing dress, her hair packed to the back as usual, Ebuka couldn’t help feeling excited. Her presence warmed his heart.

“I am so sorry about your father.” Ada said in that sing-song voice of hers, handing over the warmer to him.

“Thank you!” Ebuka forced himself to say, as he tried to suppress the emotions that her presence was awakening in him.

It wasn’t just the Holy Spirit whispering that she was the one, even his heart was beating faster because she was near.

How could this be?

Chinelo could have ordered the food from a restaurant, or simply sent Alex to buy it, but she had made Ada cook it herself and bring it. His secretary was definitely up to something. When Ebuka made the request for his father, Chinelo had told him to also expect something good for himself. He had assumed it was some bowl of food, but seeing Ada here, he realised that the ‘something good’ was her. Chinelo was playing matchmaker.

“All the best Mr…” Ada caught herself before she could complete the statement she knew would annoy him. “All the best, Ebuka.” She said instead.

The deed was already done. In her heart, she saw him as a Mr. Ebuka, some man that she worked for. Her benefactor! How could she ever warm up to having anything to do with him? Even if he wanted to, how could he, when his presence unsettled her? She was definitely not the one.

She is the one!

Ebuka sighed.

“Have a nice day!” Ada added as she turned to leave. Acting on impulse, Ebuka held her hands and pulled her along with him towards the house without giving her a chance to make an excuse.

“Come with me!”

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Come with me!

For what? Ada wondered, but didn’t say anything as his big hands enveloped hers and pulled her with him gently. She needed to pull away from the hold. The close proximity to him was messing with her head, reminding her of how much she missed him.

‘Why am I being like this?’ Ada berated herself, her hands beginning to get clammy in his, yet he held on to her, despite the wetness. It was when they got to the living room and he directed her to take a seat, that he left her hands and walked out.

He was back five minutes later.

“Papa is sleeping. I don’t want to wake him for food.” Ebuka said, and sat on the couch, next to her.

Ada nodded, the big house was so quiet, she wondered if no one else was here.

“Do you live here alone?” she asked, too curious to let it slide.

Ebuka smiled, noticing how she hesitated before asking. She was nothing like Gladys, and he often wondered how two sisters from the same parents could be so different.

“I don’t live here yet,” he said. “I built it for when I get married and start a family.”

“Your father lives here alone?” Ada asked.

“I wanted him to be part of that family,” Ebuka replied. “After all we’ve been through, we both deserve it. He has a room here, but he prefers the family house where I grew up. There was no need to insist, until now.”

The last two words were heavy.

Ada wished she hadn’t asked.

“I brought him here to die,” Ebuka said quietly. “But I don’t want him to die. I want him to live. To—”

His voice broke. A tear slid down his cheek before he could stop it.

“I’m so sorry,” Ada said, reaching for his hand.

The contact seemed to undo him. Ebuka stepped closer and pulled her into a hug, his frame folding around her.

The confusion came instantly.

Ada eased out of his arms and stood. She wanted to comfort him, truly, but staying there, held that way, would awaken hopes she had no right to entertain.

“I’m sorry,” Ebuka said quickly, embarrassed by himself, by how little control he seemed to have.

Why am I this undone by her? he wondered.

“I should go,” Ada said gently. “I’m keeping Alex waiting.”

“Alex works for me,” Ebuka replied. “He can wait.”

She nodded, uncertain.

“Can you relax?” he asked.

She nodded again, and despite himself, he smiled. Her nervousness was obvious. He stepped closer, turned her gently to face him, and held her hands.

“I don’t bite.”

Ada smiled, and for the first time in weeks, Ebuka felt something like joy.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he said softly.

He touched her face, cradling it, moving closer, too close.

“What are we doing?” Ada asked, her voice unsteady.

“I honestly don’t know,” Ebuka admitted.

“I think I should leave,” she said, pulling away. He held on for a moment longer than he should have.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he said, the words small, almost childlike.

“Your father is upstairs,” Ada replied. “You’re not alone.”

“It’s always been just me and him,” Ebuka said. “Even now.”

“You’ll be fine,” Ada said, meeting his eyes, holding his hands until he nodded.

“Come,” he said at last. “Let’s serve him lunch together. He’ll be happy to see a friend.”

Ada followed him upstairs.

As they walked, she whispered a prayer for his father, quietly, fervently.

His passing, when it came, would devastate Ebuka.

And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to watch that kind of pain.