WAITING ON BOLAJI

I went ahead and bought the perfect dress. He hadn’t asked, and I hadn’t said yes, but I knew it was coming. It had to be coming. I convinced myself as I looked at the mirror. 8 years with him, and 3 abortions; I thought it was time for him to be ready. The last time I got pregnant, he told me that we couldn’t bring a child into this world when we were still trying to be one. How long does it take for a man to be ready? We were not getting any younger. Very soon, when his friends should ask him what type of girl he wants, he will start to tell them that his looking for a girl from age 20 to 24. He forgot that we’ve been into this our ‘thing’ since our high school days. I threw the dress in frustration on the bed; I knew how to think myself into anger.

They call me Uwa the dreamer and soon, he will join them in mocking me. I have to do something fast, and do it now! I picked up my phone, and in the same moment, a call came through. It was Bolaji; the only man who can make my heart skip a beat, and I mean it.

“Hey babe, what’s up? I was about calling you.”

“Hey we need to talk, can we meet up at Sandy’s this evening.” Our favorite restaurant. The urgency in his voice sent chills down my spine.

“Okay calm down, what’s going on? You’re back in town?”

“Babe just do as I said okay? No questions.” He hung up.

I starred at the dress that was lying scattered on my bed, and then back to my phone. I was on duty this evening, and the restaurant wasn’t a 10 minutes’ drive thing either. But I am Uwa, the girl who can make the impossible possible for the man she loved dearly. I dialed Sheena’s number.

“Hey girl,”

“Hey, what’s up Uwaila?” I swear, I’ve known this American chick for almost 5 years, and she still struggles with my name.

“Can you cover up for me tonight? I promise it will be the last time.” We were nurses on duty, but today was her off day.

“Guuurrl…” she drew out the word. “That was what you said last time but anyway, my man canceled on me tonight so I guess I can make a little extra dollar in my pocket. Oh, remember those shoes we saw at the store the other—” I hung up. Yep, I wasn’t up for her chit chat. She agreed to do me the favor and that was all that mattered.

6 p.m; I was on the main road in my new SUV,  the one Bolaji bought for me after my last abortion. The drive to the restaurant was tiring; thanks to the 5:00 traffic on these Memphis roads. I was sweating the hell out of my dress. This cover girl foundation was doing so little as I felt my face covered in heat inside. I turned on my AC. I lost count on how many times I used my honk that evening. Everyone was a distraction to the meeting I had convinced myself would be good for me tonight. It just might be what I have been praying to God for.

Before entering the restaurant, I pulled out my emergency makeup kit from the back seat of my car. I looked into the side view mirror to make sure every little detail was on point before stepping into the restaurant.

When he saw me, he smiled. I let out a deep breath, reassuring myself that this was it! Then I gave the whole restaurant my best model walk. I cat-calked to where he was seating; making him the envy of the men there.

“You kept me waiting.” he said, drawing out a chair for me.

“Now you know that when you asked me to come with you to Memphis, leaving New-York behind that the traffic here was hell.” I pulled him closer to me by his tie, and gave him a long kiss.

“You missed that didn’t you?” I was about going for a second dose when he pulled away.

“Uwa I came for something more important. I don’t know how to say this but its better if I just get it over with.”

I slumped back into my chair. “But okay, after a drink you can begin.” I raised my hand up to grab the attention of a waiter when I heard him chuckling.

“Wait ooh, do you think this is a joke?”

“I don’t know, but you seem to be the one only one laughing here.” I hissed.

“How was your visit back to New-York?” He had businesses to deal with there. He spent 2 weeks, and as much as I was excited that he was back into my arms, I wasn’t too fond of the way he was hustling me.

“Yeah New-York, that’s what I wanted to speak to you about.”

“Well get on with it, was your business there not okay?”

“It was more than okay.” He paused. “3 days ago,” he began. I didn’t understand why I was nervous, and my palms where sweating.

“A girl came to me saying that I got her pregnant.” He dropped the bomb.

”Oh,” It wasn’t exactly the proposal I was expecting. “Bola come on now, what’s all this?” I asked, wanting what he just said to be some sort of sick joke. His silence confirmed it.

“Baby say something.” He said, stretching his hands forward on the table. I couldn’t form words to say to him. It was as if someone poured cold water on me, I became stiff as a rock.

“Did you?” I asked.

“Did I what?”

“Did you sleep with her?” I choked on my words.

“Yes but—” before he could finished, I slapped him.

“It was just a one night—” Without letting him finish again; I slapped him for the second time.

“You bastard, how many times do you think it took for you to get me pregnant?”

TO BE CONTINUED.

Written by  UFUOMA OTEBELE