SERENDIPITY

He had taken a turn for the better; character wise. He can honestly call himself a matured man now. The thing about pasts, presents and futures however is that, they are like building blocks and one cannot exist without the other.

Ernest Kojo Mensah is forty years old, a father of four; all from different mothers and all born out of wedlock. Granted he is currently married to the mother of his youngest child, a self-made man driving his own commercial bus (trotro) and a deacon in his church but you never truly outrun your past. Not on earth here, you don’t.

He would be the first to admit the credibility he doesn’t have was of his own doing, even discounting the string of offspring he’s left in his wake. 

His two oldest sons, Ekow and Fiifi turned thirteen a month ago, his third son, Ernest (Junior) was eight and he lived with him, his wife Naomi and their little girl, Adoma.

From the profession he’s chosen, it’s very obvious he had other things occupying his time and mind during the time he was supposed to be getting his formal education.

He was still trying to make the best out of the situation he found himself in. He knows he got off easy with only four kids because in his day, he would admit that no self respecting Casanova actually tried to mar his experiences with condoms. Thus he became a hunter of the unsuspecting females in his path. He hunted for the hymen.

It was this habit however that prevented him from denying it to himself whenever he was faced with the paternity of yet another pregnancy. Not that he ever admitted it to anyone but himself though. The age old “deny, deny, deny” has been his haven all these years.

His aged parents are always looking at him with the disappointment they could not quite hide. His meek sister, an ideal example of the well-trained Ghanaian woman, Evelyn, idolizes him. To her he’s always been “big brother”. His beautiful but brash and haughty not to mention rich sister, Alice hated him with a passion. It’s evident in the way she talked to him and their parents whenever it involved him. It always baffled him too because, of his sisters, he was rather fond of Alice when they were kids.

He understands now that everything changed the night their parents decided that the money they had could only sponsor one kid and they’d rather have their “only son” take as many re-sits as he could to qualify him for a tertiary education even though his sister already had the grades to take her to the university. Hell broke loose that night when Alice without mincing words told their parents that they were more or less taking a stupid decision. The old man of course was incensed; no woman talked to him like that let alone his own daughter. To him, they had done enough giving her an education to the secondary level and they must concentrate on the ‘man’ of the family. After all, he was going to save his family. Their father drove his sister out of his house that night, for a son that would amount to nothing!

Alice was a beautiful woman but her greatest asset perhaps was her brain. Not that it was any help to her in the early days though, apart from her studies that is. She loved to rub her intelligence in people’s faces, especially her male counterparts.  With years, however, came wisdom. She came to understand that though the majority may be stupid, it doesn’t help anyone to keep pointing that out. It certainly didn’t get her things she wanted; just enemies. She put herself through school, got her certificate and a job. It was quite a journey for her and no one dares blame her when she flares up whenever the “it’s the man’s decision” argument came up in family meetings. She had no compunction whatsoever to tell whoever to shove it. She would most times end up bankrolling the projects anyway.

She grew up hating the dynamics of her family. She saw her father as a tyrant who shoved his decisions down everyone’s throat, her mother as a spineless mute who never stood up to her husband, her sister as the mirror image of their mother and a never do well son she had the misfortune of calling her brother. To be fair, though, fate might just have dealt her a bad hand. She probably just had the misfortune of being born generations too soon for her own good.

************

This morning had started off as any other morning for Ernest. In the mornings, the majority of his clientele were the formal sector workers interspersed with a handful of market women. Fuel prices were up again and it was all everyone was talking about or wanted to talk about. Usually, he would just switch on his radio to drown out the sounds but his mate had broken it a few days ago and since he hadn’t budgeted for a new radio or even repairs, he endured the morning and all that was for the day. 

THE PASTOR'S WIFE II

 

BEFORE

It didn’t use to be the way things are now. Patrick, the man she dated wasn’t one you would call religious or spiritually astute. He was the guy that sat at the back of the congregation observing the goings on. His whole demeanor seemed to suggest the Pentecostal settings of his church were not really his style and that he would be more comfortable in an orthodox setting, kind of. He was the classic mysterious and brooding guy that happened to be a constant in the fantasies of most girls. It was no wonder Stella fell for him too. To Stella, he was God’s answer to her prayers. He was the last person she would call zealous when it came to church business, which suited her just fine, as long as no breeze of kingdom service touches her hair. It didn’t take a genius to know that his career trajectory was as far removed from the pulpit as possible. In church, he could easily be mistaken for a mute; a mute who suddenly seemed to find his voice once outside the church walls. Then came all the prayers to make him more committed to the things of God than he currently were, just not to the point of stewardship and Stella’s prayers were answered or so it seemed. Patrick himself had categorically stated one day, that he doesn’t know what would even give him the desire to want the responsibility of a pastor. That had been the icing on the cake for Stella.

**********

This morning as she stood in her kitchen with her hands absentmindedly massaging her forehead; one of her numerous nervous gestures, the wheels of her mind were as busy as those of an over speeding Ferrari.

It took every available willpower in her not to bring up the subject at breakfast this morning. She had learned over the course of their marriage to first pray about any heavy topic that had the potential of becoming a big deal before broaching it at all. Patrick may seem like an amiable guy but he has a stubborn streak that Stella honestly believed nobody could tame. His mother certainly couldn’t. As his wife, she had discovered this used to clash frequently with her strong will and it had taken a lot of hard work from both of them to come to some form of an understanding on the issue. By the wisdom of God, they had both agreed to pay more attention to the other’s viewpoint before taking an unshakable stance on any issue. So far, it had worked so well for them.

The issue of whether or not she wanted her husband to become a pastor however is something she so desperately wished wouldn’t come up at all. To her, it seemed like the very foundation of their marriage was threatened with this seemingly non-issue.

Standing in the kitchen, thinking and rethinking the whole business just served to get her more agitated so she got out into the grounds of the house. She decided to take a stroll right inside their compound to clear her head. After a few paces, she decided to do what she knew she must do; take it to the third person in their marriage.

The Prayer:

“What happened? I specifically asked you for something, why does that change now. Am I married to the wrong man? Now that he’s got this idea in his head he won’t let go and you know how he gets.

Can’t we just serve you another way without becoming reverend and missus?

“Are you not going to talk? I probably look like a mad woman, standing here and talking to myself.”

The one sided conversation went on for an hour at least until Stella seemed to have exhausted her list of unfair situations to gripe about. She felt tired and reclined in a garden chair to see if any other complaints would come to mind.

Meanwhile, Patrick spent the hour’s drive to work wondering what had peeved his wife this morning. To the best of his recollection, she was chirpy all through dinner last night, even before bed and he was pretty sure he fell right asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow so he couldn’t put his finger on what he might have done or said to make her moody. He had done what he usually did when he didn’t have all the relevant information upfront. He had decided to postpone dealing with her mood until he assessed every available angle before bringing it up. It had probably upset her more that he didn’t ask her what was wrong but sometimes he thinks the woman expects too much of him. As soon as he got to the company’s premises, Patrick shoved his misgivings in a compartment of his mind till a later time and started planning strategies for all he had to do for the day. Domestic issues could wait; he had to be at his best today!

“Are you done whining?” an inner voice asked. It was so loud it startled her into opening her eyes and looking around. But of course, there was no one around.

Stella: You finally answered!

God: you finally kept quiet long enough to listen.

Stella: whatever! What is all this pastor business Patrick was talking about last night?

God: I don’t remember Patrick saying anything to that effect last night. Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?

Stella: are You kidding me right now? What do you mean by You don’t remember? You are supposed to know everything.

God: yes I actually DO know everything, thank you very much. I just can’t remember something that never happened.

Stella (squinting her eyes in a semblance of a thoughtful action): oh my God! You are in on it.

God: don’t use My name in vain. I’m in on what?

Stella: You want him to be a pastor! He’s talked to you about it, hasn’t he? You are on his side?

God: another accusation which isn’t true. Have you talked to him about this? Have you asked him?

Stella: no, I wanted to talk to You about it first.

God: what you really mean is; you wanted to accuse Me first before you accused Patrick, right? Apparently all we do all day is sit and plan your unhappiness.

Stella: I don’t mean it like that.

God: if there is something like that in the works, you do realize it would be about Patrick becoming a pastor and not about you, right?

Stella: how effective would he be without a supportive wife? It is about me too.

God: you may be right on that score.

Stella: wait oh! Did You say I was dreaming last night? That my memory didn’t happen?

She didn’t get any answer to that particular question.

Stella: see, I have to go take care of some stuff. I have a busy day today, kind of. Talk to You in the evening.

God: talk with you tomorrow.

True to form, she didn’t get back from town till late in the evening. When she got home, Patrick had already taken care of their supper. Her mood that evening seemed an improvement from that of the morning and her husband was relieved. He had planned not to query her about it when he got home and she still hadn’t returned from town. They had a companionable evening and retired early for bed.

It was early morning when Patrick had left for work that Stella realized she hadn’t resumed her conversation with God yesterday. She understood then, what He meant by His parting words.

Something else struck her as peculiar. Patrick brought up the same issue of his pastorship last night at almost the same time as the night before, about 11:30pm. She seemed to remember his words stating his intentions were almost verbatim to the night before. This struck her as odd and she began to think that the whole thing was a dream.

That morning when she said; ‘good morning, Father’, she had an idea of what the whole thing might be about. Two scriptures dropped into her spirit. 1 Samuel chapter 3 and Acts chapter 10. She knew what was in the third chapter of 1^st Samuel because she had read it sometime ago in the previous week. What shook her was the specificity of the scripture of Acts chapter 10. She could explain away the first scripture reference as one from her memory and imagination but she couldn’t do that with the second scripture reference from the book of Acts. She didn’t know that scripture was the one about the Apostle Peter’s vision. It suddenly dawned on her that her memory of Patrick’s pastoral ambitions was an open vision, the first ever in her entire life.

Her new revelation gave her an understanding that it wasn’t just Patrick’s ambition she was dealing with but with God’s intention as well.

Stella: I can’t be a pastor’s wife.

God: says who?

Stella: I have assessed myself and I know my strengths.

God: and you know yourself so well more than I do?

Stella: well…………..well……

That evening at dinner, Patrick mentioned that he ran into an old acquaintance who had turned a pastor.

Patrick: I don’t get people most times. I mean, what does it even mean to get “THE CALL” to be a pastor? When they can’t make it in the business world they tend to think becoming a pastor is their best option.

Stella: hmmm! So I take it if you ever get “THE CALL” to become a pastor you wouldn’t heed it?

Patrick: what call? I hardly think God would ever call me in that capacity. He knows I wouldn’t be good at it.

Stella just couldn’t hold back her mirth. She burst out laughing so hard at the absurdity of the whole situation. You have a lot of work on Your hands, Lord. She thought to herself. Patrick didn’t see the amusement of the conversation.

Patrick: what is so funny?

Stella: oh, nothing. Nothing at all. This should be interesting……………

THE END

THE PASTOR'S WIFE

She, a pastor’s wife! She doesn’t even like people that much to be cast in the perpetual role of godly hostess the rest of her life. This wasn’t about Patrick, this was about her. Over the past few years, Patrick’s spiritual growth and that of his relationship with God has been a blessing and an amazing thing to witness but a pastor? She had no doubt he could be one and an exceptional one at that but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that; she didn’t want to be that wife who undermined all her husband’s hard and noble work with her attitude. She wasn’t called to the office of pastor’s wife, period!  

***************

MC: Praise the Lord!

Audience: hallelujah!

MC: It’s now time for the word. Someone, say ‘the word’.

Audience: the word!

MC: oh, I didn’t hear you. Let’s hear you say, ‘the word!’

Audience: the word!

MC: yes, the word. The bible says: ‘man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God’. Pardon me, I still love my old King James version, amen? ‘Proceedeth’, that’s what I’m talking about, hahaha. Amen!

Audience: amen!

 MC: It is now time for our spirits to be fed and watered and we are blessed to have with us; Mrs. Stella Kudjoe to minister to us, what has been given her by the Holy Spirit, tonight. Hallelujah! Without wasting much time, we call on Rev. Mrs. Stella Kudjoe to give us the word. She is the wife and helpmeet of the man of God who couldn’t be with us here today. You might have noticed her in the front seat. Even the Queen of Sheba would be envious of her beauty. Ah, snow white kwraa, is no match for her beauty.

The student body gathered in the auditorium that evening burst into applause as Stella mounted the stage.

Stella: Hahahaha! Thank you, Michael. Hello, everyone! Hahahaha!

Audience: Helloooo!

Stella: What an introduction. Snow White! Oh, my dear Michael! Hahaha! I bring you greetings from Rev. Patrick Kudjoe. He is awfully sorry he couldn’t make it here today. I know how it is; When I was a student, I would have had a strike each against the organizers of this program and the substitute speaker already. After all the hype they gave the guest speaker in their posters and all. I pray you don’t be like I was back then, ameeeen!

Audience: Amen.

Stella: Rev. Kudjoe has his heart set on this institution because it is one of the structures God used to groom him into who he is today. So you guys are special, Amen!

Audience:  Ameeen!!!!!

Stella: This is his alma mater and mine as well. This is where we met, so those of you so bent on the “exters”, “inters” are good too……..praise the Lord!

Audience (mostly male voices): Bor hor bioo, bor hor bioo! 

Stella: shall we pray. Lord, we thank you for the gift of life and for the grace you have made available for us to be able to meet you like this. Minister to each of our hearts as you see fit. Let us leave this auditorium with a testimony that, indeed it was good we were here. In Jesus’ name…….amen!

Audience: amen!

*****************

BEFORE

It didn’t use to be the way things are now. Patrick, the man she dated wasn’t one you would call religious or spiritually astute. He was the guy that sat at the back of the congregation observing the goings on. His whole demeanor seemed to suggest the Pentecostal settings of his church were not really his style and that he would be more comfortable in an orthodox setting, kind of. He was the classic mysterious and brooding guy that happened to be a constant in the fantasies of most girls. It was no wonder Stella fell for him too. To Stella, he was God’s answer to her prayers. He was the last person she would call zealous when it came to church business, which suited her just fine, as long as no breeze of kingdom service touches her hair. It didn’t take a genius to know that his career trajectory was as far removed from the pulpit as possible. In church, he could easily be mistaken for a mute; a mute who suddenly seemed to find his voice once outside the church walls. Then came all the prayers to make him more committed to the things of God than he currently were, just not to the point of stewardship and Stella’s prayers were answered or so it seemed. Patrick himself had categorically stated one day that he doesn’t know what would even give him the desire to want the responsibility of a pastor. That had been the icing on the cake for Stella.

GO FOR GOLD

Go for the gold!!!! What does that even mean?

My boyfriend uses that expression a lot. I have heard a few people also use it. Their way of spurring me on, I guess. It’s one of the expressions I’ve heard so frequently, I barely give a thought to when I hear it now. The only problem is; I love a splash of gold sometimes on my clothes. Sometimes, not all the time. I loathe gold on my jewelry, no matter how pretty it makes me look. It’s just another thing about me, even I don’t understand.  Unless it is white gold of course! Somewhere in my head, I associate the word ‘gaudy’ with yellow gold.

On this particular day, since I wasn’t going for the Olympics or even a backyard marathon, I called him out on it. And surprise of all surprises: he got ticked off that I was a know-it-all. Where have I heard those words before? Ah, yes. In my head, when I call him thus.

My bad though, because this time, he literally meant I should go for the gold, as in a gold band. You see, we were ‘ring shopping’ and naturally, I preferred the silver or white gold bands to the normal gold we know. Anything but that yellow colour of gold! He would rather have me in yellow gold because of how beautiful he saw one look on my finger. Maybe folks could help me out with this one. Whom is the wedding for? Is it for the bride or the groom, or the families or the sideline friends? Who gets the most say in how a wedding should go?

I wasn’t expecting this at all. Before we agreed to tie the knot, Jake, my boyfriend, I suppose I should call him my fiancé, now that I’m wearing his promissory ring. Which is also a bit confusing. Is it a promissory ring or an engagement ring? In Ghana, you never know. The engagement we all know could pass for a real marriage for sure, what with all the ceremony and all. Anyway, before we agreed to tie the knot, he gave me a ring and as one would expect, it was gold. Yellow gold! Even though it wasn’t in my favorite colour, I loved it. I mean, what else could I do? I wasn’t there when he was shopping for it.

You know, all this wouldn’t give me such a headache if he had a dead grandmother somewhere whose wedding ring I could borrow, just like it’s done in the movies.

He was the one who used to call marriage and all the ceremony leading to it; a 'girl’s dream'. To him, it wasn’t manly to be too involved when planning a wedding. I wish I had recorded one of those dialogues because today, he is really trying my patience. He wants yellow gold, I want something entirely different. I thought guys were supposed to defer to the girl’s wishes under such circumstances, citing the ageless reason: ‘it’s the bride’s day’ as motivation. Apparently, Jake has decided it’s his day too because he wasn’t compromising. We have spent two hours at the jewellers already and there was still no resolution in sight. No way was I going to spend the rest of my life looking at a yellow band on my finger, no way!!

At some point, I suggested his band be of yellow gold, since he seemed to like it so much and I’ll have mine in a different hue. Apparently, it isn’t done because both bands come as a set. Well, so much for catering for all my dreams!!!!! We had to reschedule the rings’ purchase to a latter date. That should be fun. Doing this all over again!

For this impasse, my best friend had a wise solution for us both. We can choose one for now and then change it in ten years time for a different type. That seemed to calm us both and since I had already worn my gold promissory ring for a while now, I convinced him that we go for a diamond ring in a silver setting. Don’t tell him this, but in a decade’s time, I’ll just have to bully him into buying us bands of my choosing again. Seriously, what does a guy care about rings, anyways? 

Now, we can go ahead and argue over the guest list.

##WEDDING HEADACHES##

BURNT OUT X

In that moment, she had to watch herself not to overturn the contents of her glass on his head. All the thoughts and insults running through her head which she could heap on this guy. She calmed herself down, got up, took her purse which was hanging by her side on her chair and walked out of the restaurant. One of these days, someone was going to push her too far………………

**************

‘Maybe I overreacted a bit. I could just have suffered through the next hour and a half and then say a very nice goodbye.’  Esther thought through her date and how it had gone down.

“Which part of Spintex are we going, Madam?” the driver interrupted her self recriminations.

“Rainbow. Do you know the place? It’s after Coastal.”

“I know Coastal but I don’t know this Rainbow place.” He replied.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you directions when we get to Coastal.” She remembered she hadn’t called Fiifi back and she decided she’d call him right before she sleeps tonight. A friendly voice on the other end of the line would help her a lot. She wondered how George was doing. As soon as the thought came to mind, she discarded it for more musings on her date but her thoughts came circling back to George. She was glad she didn’t come home to change into different clothes for this evenings date. It would have been wasted time and effort. They had decided to go for dinner straight from work because of traffic and it turns out that was a sound decision.

Her phone vibrated just then to notify her of Kwame’s text. The text message was one of an apology as to how the evening had gone. She appreciated the gesture. She however refused to give him the impression that she thought she had overreacted. So, she sent a text back gracefully accepting the apology and saying she’ll see him on Monday. Whatever he wanted them to be, she hoped that expectation would die a natural death.

When George knocked on the door to Esther’s apartment that evening at 7.00pm, he refused to accept his loud and erratic heartbeats were because of fear. The fear of finding out how much better off she’d been without him. Fear that he had been replaced and most of all, of what she would do when she laid eyes on him.

He wondered if she was home, if she has gotten a job and if she was dating somebody. Miriam opened the door and smiled at him but he could tell she didn’t really mean it.

“Good evening, Miriam.”

“Good evening. If you are looking for Esther, she isn’t in.”

“Okay, but may I come in and wait for her?”

“Suit yourself.” Miriam went back to the kitchen to continue with the meals she was preparing leaving George alone in the living room. He sat there on the couch, going over conversation starters in his head, trying to find the best one to use with Esther. ‘Does he start right on with an apology or does he start with a banal subject? He wasn’t sure. He supposed it will depend on her mood when she sees him.’

As he waited, he heard the sound of a vehicle, most probably a car, as it stopped outside the house for a while and then sped off again. Next, he heard the front door to the girls’ apartment open. He heard voices in hushed conversation and he could only assume Esther was home and Miriam was giving her a heads up about his presence before she came in and met him.

“You have a visitor waiting for you inside.” Miriam told her at the door.

“Well, hello to you too. Is it Fiifi? I was planning on calling him back.”

“And are you ever going to tell me the person’s name, or should I guess?

“………Oh no! don’t tell me it’s George. Not with the day I’ve had and the mood I’m in.”

“Yeah, it is.” Miriam answered.

Esther sighed out loud and headed straight for her room to change her clothes. On her way, she saw George standing just inside the doorway of the living room, watching her. Without a word to him or even a glance to acknowledge him, she entered her room. She spent a few minutes sitting on her bed, gathering her scattered thoughts together. She missed him. She was happy and angry at the same time to see him. As she changed into a pair of slacks and a tank top, her anger won over and she went out to meet George with all the self control she could muster. As soon as she entered the living room and sat down, Miriam came in and informed them both that she was stepping out for a few minutes to buy something down the street. ‘Thank you so much, Miriam, for leaving me alone to deal with this mess.’ Esther thought to herself. They both heard the apartment door slam as Miriam walked out.

Over the silence that followed, George ventured to break the ice. “So, Nana, how have you been?”

‘So we are back to calling me Nana, abi?’ His use of the familiar pet name just served to infuriate her the more.

“What are you doing here, and what do you want George?”

“Is it wrong for me to inquire about your health?” She didn’t dignify the question with an answer.

“Won’t you ask me how I am also doing?

“You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?” Still no answer. He realized she planned on saying little until he had exhausted every reason he had to stay, to try and make things right. Then maybe he would leave her alone. He remembered the smart thing to do when she got this way was to provoke her into a reaction, mostly anger. With the issue at hand, he knew it wouldn’t take much to get her there.

“I came to say I am sorry for what happened with us and to ask that you give us another chance. A chance for me to make things right.”

“Okay. You’ve stated why you are at my house. I have heard and I’ll think about it. Now, if you’ll just excuse me, I have stuff to do.” she dismissed him.

“It’s not like everything was my fault. If you hadn’t been so stubborn, we wouldn’t have had to break up in the first place.”

“What did you say?”

‘Finally!’ he thought with some satisfaction to himself.

“You came all the way to my house to tell me it is my fault that you were weak-minded enough to cheat on me? On second thought, you know what? Yeah, it’s my fault. Now that you’ve made that clear I hope your business here is done. I’m kinda busy.” 

First blow landed, fair and square and it wasn’t pleasant. He wasn’t giving up yet. Until all the anger is out of the way, they can’t have a rational conversation anyway.

“Weak-minded huh! How do you feel getting that off you chest?”

“I don’t want to see you or talk to you or have anything to do with you. How about that for getting things off my chest?”

“Or, is there someone else you are not telling me about? At least I accorded you the courtesy of telling you the truth that I was going out with someone else.” That did it! She was surprised her blood vessels didn’t burst from how much blood her heart was pumping.  The nerve of the guy! She really wished she were dating someone else at the moment.

“That is enough. Get out. Get out of my house George. Get out!” with every issue of the command for him to get out, her voice rose a little higher till she was almost yelling it at him.

‘Where was Miriam when you needed her?’

“I am not going anywhere till you calm down and we talk about this.” They were both standing nose to nose now. She turned around swiftly and went to her bedroom, took out her purse from her bag and walked out, leaving him alone in the house. She was about a hundred metres away from the house when she realized she had left her phone in the living room. She refused to go back for it. She boarded a bus on its way to Roundabout. She was on her way to Fiifi’s place. She’ll be there till 12.00am before she comes back home. By then, she knew George would be long gone. She hated that this was becoming a trend. As if she was always running away from difficult situations.

Miriam came back home around 8.15pm. When George heard someone opening the door, he thought it was Esther coming back but it wasn’t.

“George, you are still here. Where is Esther?”

“She stormed out of here a few minutes ago. Didn’t you meet her on your way back home?”

“No, I didn’t. What did you say to her to make her angry?”

“Nothing much. Just my presence, I guess.” Miriam eyed him doubtfully.

“I suppose you came here to win her back? Good luck with that. Right now, you are all that is wrong with her life so you are going to need all the luck you could get.”

“By the way, where is your girlfriend, Pokua?”

“She isn’t my girlfriend anymore.” Shaking her head disappointedly, she said; “Guys! Good luck. You are really going to need it.

“While we are waiting for her to come and kill you, we might as well feed you and fatten you up. I’m bringing you some rice.”

They ate and waited, and waited. Two hours into waiting, George grew apprehensive and asked Miriam if this was normal for Esther. Miriam reassured him that she was alright. He refused to leave then, claiming he wanted to make sure she was alright. Miriam guessed she was probably at Fiifi’s place so there was no cause for alarm.

Fiifi drove Esther home after convincing her it was the grown up thing to do. He also reminded her that she had been waiting for George to come back to her for a long time, so she should go and sort things out with him. At five minutes to twelve, she said goodnight to him as she got out of the car. She found the same pickup truck parked by the house but she still didn’t make the connection that it was George who drove that truck there. She decided to call him up tomorrow for them to talk this through. She had left her keys and phone when she left so she knocked on Miriam’s bedroom window. She responded from inside that the door wasn’t locked.

Esther found George sprawled out on the couch, asleep. “He refused to leave. Said he had to wait and talk to you. Are you going to wake him up?” Esther heard Miriam say behind her.

“No, we’ll talk tomorrow.” She went inside the room and took out the mosquito coil Miriam had burning away by his side in the room, to keep the mosquitoes away. 

“He reacts strongly to the stuff. Better the mosquito bites than the coil fumes.” She explained to the askance look on Miriam’s face. She didn’t even realize that she was fussing and Miriam wasn’t about to draw her attention to it. Miriam had already covered him with a sheet so when she entered her room, she just brought out a pillow for him. She gently raised his head and placed the pillow under it. When she turned to leave to her room, she found Miriam staring at her.

“You have just one pillow.” Miriam said.

“Yeah, so?”

“And you gave it to him.”

“What’s your point?”

“And you are still angry at him.”

“Miriam, I still don’t see your point.”

“You are pretending you don’t see my point but it’s okay, I’ll explain. You are angry at the guy and yet you give the only pillow you have to him. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

“Whatever you say, madam matchmaker. For me, I’m tired so I’m going to bed.”

By 6.00am, she was wide awake but she refused to leave her room. She heard a faint knock on her door about half an hour later and she called out to the person to come in. She already knew who would walk through the door and she was right, it was George. He came in and knelt by the foot of her bed as she rose and leaned her back on the headboard.

“I’m really sorry, Nana. For everything. If you really don’t want to see me or talk to me, I understand but I hope you give me the chance to make things right. Whatever you need; time, space, anything, you just name it. Pokua and I, we didn’t even last two months. Do you know why? Because she wasn’t you. Just tell me how to make it up to you and I will. I’ve been wanting to come and do this for two months now but I never could muster up enough courage for the feat. What I did was wrong and I am sorry I blamed you for it last night.”

‘Oooooh, that is so sweet.’ She however could not find the voice to say that out loud because her throat was clogged with her tears.

“I have something for you. It’s a piece of jewelry. I don’t mean to buy you off or pressure you into forgiving me but if you do forgive me and are willing to give me a second chance, then you can take this right now. If you want time to think about it too, you may take all the time you need. I love you and would love nothing more than spending my life with you.” With that, he brought out a ring that was obviously meant as a promissory ring. She stared at the ring for so long until her tears blinded her eyes. That was when she knew she was going to say yes. It was almost like she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Not after he had been so sweet. 

Yes, she was going to say yes and hope the projection of their forever become an experience they would both tell stories about to their grandkids someday in forever.

    

 *************THE END! *************