Onyih Odunze's Blog

August 28, 2014

It Happened One Night

Her lips quivered as she tried to hold back the tears. Still stunned from what I had just seen, I moved in and wrapped her in a tender hug. Tremors rocked her body and she trembled in my arms, overcome with emotion.

“What on earth could have happened?” I thought to myself.

Everything seemed to be going well, barely three short months ago when Jessica married her long-time boyfriend. They’d both struggled with addictive behavior for several years, but things took a turn for the better when Jessica had an encounter with God. Funny enough, she was in prison at the time; serving time for assault.

Seeing the changes in her, Jessica’s boyfriend also made a decision to have a relationship with God, through Jesus. Things were going well and they finally tied the knot three months ago.

Everything was perfect – or so I thought.

A few minutes ago, I had heard the office door slam shut, so I walked towards to front to say hello to Jessica. I was shocked by what I saw; standing by the desk was Jessica, with a split lip and swollen eyes.

There was no mistaking the signs.

I pulled away from her, held her at arm’s length.

“Did he hit you?” My voice was fierce with concern and something else.

In the background, a clock ticked loudly, counting off each second as time inexorably marched on.

Mute, she shook her head…wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Then, what happened to your face? Tell me the truth!” I knew that many victims of abuse suffer in silence, too scared or ashamed share their pain with anyone else. I was determined that my friend would have a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen.

Her voice was soft when she spoke. “We got into it last night, and kind of pushed each other around. I…I guess I busted my lip in the process.”

I wasn’t sure I believed her. Was she minimizing her husband’s actions in order to protect him, or to keep things from getting worse at home? I remembered a case I’d seen on television, where an abused woman’s colleague took regular pictures of her injuries and kept a meticulous log. The colleague’s record keeping later proved invaluable in the prosecution of the woman’s husband.

Should I do the same thing or would that offend Jessica? I battled the indecision and finally decided not to take any pictures. However, I resolved within myself that I would definitely do so if I ever witnessed more bruises.

“Why don’t you go to the restroom and clean up? Apply some make-up or something, okay? You don’t want everybody asking you what’s wrong.”

She nodded, rummaged in her purse for some things and left the office.

Still reflective, I watched her leave. How did two people who seemed desperately in love come to this point? How did Jessica’s husband feel when he saw the bruises on her face? Was he remorseful or was he even now justifying his actions by telling himself that she provoked him? I wished I could get an insight to what was going on in his mind.

Somewhere inside me, I hoped that he was sorry – that the bruises on her face were an aberration that would never happen again.

I didn’t know how wrong I was.

***

Onyih Odunze

To be continued…

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Published on August 28, 2014 16:33

February 11, 2014

Ten Things His Mother Told Me {Number 7} - Part B

On Relationships RSSMaintain Friendships with Good People

Continued...

“Can I get an update on the Desai strip mall project?”

Chiaka looked up at the sound of Andrew’s voice. “Sure. I’m adjusting the forecasts and comparing them to our reference baselines. Give me a few minutes and I’ll bring it by your office.”

He nodded, a small smile curving his lips as he walked down the hallway and back to his office two doors away from hers. Chiaka released a pent up breath, wishing the tension coiled inside her would dissipate as easily as she drew breath.

What does he want? It had been a week since that last encounter, and she had been very careful to avoid being alone with him. After team meetings, she made sure she always left the room first, or second. Never last. She timed her arrival at work so that she was never the first to get there or the last to leave. Her actions hadn’t gone unnoticed. At least, not by him.

His raised eyebrows and slight smirk mocked her covert Operation Avoid-Drew-at-All-Costs, but that was a small price to pay for peace of mind. Sometimes though, she wondered if it would be so wrong to renew her friendship with Drew; strictly platonic of course.

Would it be so bad? To just be friends, no strings attached?

They had always been able to talk about anything – in the old days – and there were times when she longed for that same camaraderie; without the extras.

Then her common sense would kick in like a slap to the head, vaporizing any romantic notions. She had no illusions about Drew. She could not afford to have any illusions about him. Trying to have a platonic relationship with Drew was like placing your hand on an open flame and hoping it wouldn’t burn.

Heart pounding, she strove for calm and control, deciding on the spot that she would walk out if he tried anything funny. Her emotions were all over the place, her marriage was in tatters and she felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice – even a stiff wind would be enough to knock her over. Knock her right off the edge into dark, uncharted waters. And for what? Was her peace of mind the price she had to pay for financial security?

She found herself wanting to pray, but she couldn’t. Months of ignoring a God that had abandoned her rusted her heart and froze the words on her tongue. No. She wouldn’t pray. Couldn’t pray. Why would God listen to her? For months, she had prayed and cried for help, but none came. Why would He come to her aid now? Yet, the words cried out from somewhere within her, desperate for expression.

But she swept all thoughts of prayer away – swept them into the dusty corners of her mind and focused on her ex-boyfriend-cum-boss. What did he have up his sleeves? Was he going to toy with her again? Tease her with his clever innuendo, trying to trap her into a battle of wills with him?

So she prepared for the ‘meeting’ in Andrew’s office, giving herself pep talks along the way.

“Hey, Cindy,” she called as she walked past her colleague’s office.

Trying to act normal.

Like she was just another employee, going to the boss’ office for a meeting.

“Hi, Chi,” Cindy smiled, shortening Chiaka’s name to the more comfortable ‘Chi’.

“I’m on my way to give Andrew the update on Desai. I’ll have the files up on the intraweb once I’m done.”

Cindy bobbed her head, her wavy hair swinging as she did so. “Sure, just let me know when they’re up so I can take a look.”

“Sure, will do.”

Talking about work with Cindy did what none of Chiaka’s pep talks could do, restoring some sense of normalcy to her day. A feeling of déjà vu swept over her as she paused briefly outside Drew’s door. She remembered the first time she had knocked on that door…remembered the mixture of fear and excitement that coursed through her. Then, she had come here to ask for a job. Now, she could be on the verge of giving up the very same job she had risked so much for.

What does Drew want from me? Why can’t he leave the past behind… let me work in peace?

Not sure what awaited her, she rapped on the door twice.

“Come in,” Drew’s said in a voice that gave no indication of his mood. His brown eyes somber, he waved her into the leather chair in front of his massive desk. Dark wood paneled shelves lined the back wall, and a few abstract art pieces hung on the side walls, giving the office a decidedly masculine look.

Pulling up another chair, Drew sat close to Chiaka – but not too close. She was glad to see a comfortable distance between their knees. Good. Maybe he was finally getting the message. She smoothed her skirt over her thighs, grateful that she had worn an ankle length skirt over black leather boots. The gesture also served to soothe her raw nerves, and she braced herself for the onslaught.

Then he surprised her.

“I’m sorry about the other day. I was a jerk.” His placed his hand on his chest, as though he was swearing an oath.

“I just…maybe I’m still hung up on you and it made me act crazy.” He smiled ruefully at her raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, just a little,” he said, holding his thumb and forefinger together.

“I was inappropriate and you have my word that it will not happen again. This is an office, you’re a married woman and I will keep things professional from now on.”

His admission took the wind out of her sails, deflating the nervous energy brewing inside her. It would have been churlish to do otherwise, so she graciously accepted his apology and he seemed determined to keep his word.

She should have been happy – her relationship with her husband was slowly getting back on track and Andrew was finally treating her like a colleague and nothing more. So, why did she still feel unsettled? Just last week, she had felt herself tossed about, in the grip of waves that threatened to overwhelm her. Now, finally cast ashore, she looked almost longingly at the turbulent sea, hoping for what? More turbulence? More drama?

“So, about Desai? Tell me what you have.”

Andrew’s voice pulled Chiaka from her thoughts and she shook her head, in a futile effort to clear the cobwebs from her brain.

For the next thirty minutes, she sat across from him as they discussed the project costs and forecasts. True to his word, he kept the conversation on point. Gone were the loaded glances, the sly smiles, the teasing innuendo that garnished their previous encounters.

Later, Chiaka sat at her desk, updating her files on the company-wide shared drive with details of the report she’d just presented to Andrew. A whispered sigh escaped her lips and a curious sense of loss filtered through her as Chiaka tried to remind herself that this was what she wanted. Andrew was her boss and he had been a good friend to her – giving her this job when she desperately needed one.

There was nothing more or less. The lines had been drawn and she would stay on her side of it.

***

Onyih Odunze

Thank you so much for reading this series. The conclusion will be available in my new book: Who Are You? and Other Stories...coming to Amazon on 02.14.14.

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January 20, 2014

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 7

On Relationships RSS
Maintain Friendships with Good People

One week later

The light strains of music filtered into her consciousness, intruding on the cozy softness that enveloped her. Reluctant to wake up, she burrowed deeper into the covers, straining to recapture the blissful nothingness of a restful sleep. But, the moment was gone. Chiaka opened eyes heavy with sleep and turned down the volume on the pre-set iPod.

The room was dark save for the electronic glow of the iHome stand and pinpricks of light from the TV standby button and the baby monitor. Obinna had decided that it was time for KT to move into his own room.

“Babe, we have an empty nursery just sitting there doing nothing.”

Mentally, she agreed with the fact that at almost 2 years old, their son was old enough to sleep in his own room but it was hard to actually go through with it. Still, Obinna was insistent. Their relationship had thawed over the past few days and he seemed eager to break through the final barriers. Working like a man possessed, he dismantled the heavy crib and lugged it into the nursery, re-assembling it within a couple of hours.

Puzzled, Chiaka watched him work, wondering why he was in such a hurry. Warmth rushed through her when she remembered her husband’s other reason for wanting KT out of their bedroom.

“We need our space, baby. Maybe we should start working on baby number 2.”

A slight soreness eased its way through her hips as she turned over. Yes, they had made good use of KT’s absence last night.

The sound of flowing water told her Obinna was in the shower, and she threw the covers off as she got out of bed. He would be out in a few minutes and then it would be her turn to get ready. Obinna liked to wake up early and start his day, even though he stayed home most days, caring for KT and applying for jobs. An odd tightening in her chest reminded her of the resentment she had carried for so long, a journey still unfinished.

“How was your day?” he had asked that day, after the unsettling encounter with Drew. Caught off-guard by Obinna’s unusual domesticity, and unwilling to talk about Drew, she gave him a non-committal answer. Watching her husband dish out dinner, and set the plates on the crooked tablemats awakened an emotion in her. Something different from the weight of bitterness she had been walking around with for the past few months.

Relief that she didn’t have to cook dinner after a hard day at work.

Gratitude.

Surprise.

Obinna had always been hopeless in the kitchen. As a bachelor, he rarely ventured into his kitchen, preferring to order large trays of food from one of the many Nigerian caterers in Houston.

That day was the beginning of something – a shift; a cautious thaw in their relationship. Obinna went out of his way to do things around the house and Chiaka appreciated the opportunity to relax after work. A week had gone by and things were better than they had been in a while. Still, every day that she went to work and left Obinna at home with KT, or whenever she wrote a check for one of the household bills, something jerked in her chest.

Resentment. She had prayed and asked God to remove it, but it sat there. Unmoving. Intractable. Taunting her meager efforts at reconciliation. It branded her a pretender, a liar and though she tried, she couldn’t cast it aside.

The faint sounds of rushing water came to a sudden stop and she knew Obinna was done. Time to hit the shower and get ready for work.

Just out of the shower, Obinna hummed happily as he toweled himself, oblivious to the conflict that still raged within his wife. Things had been so much better between them in the past few days and his job prospects were looking good. He had done a second interview with the consulting firm he spoke with last week and he was feeling hopeful.

Something will come out of this. I just know it.

A feeling of peace settled in his heart as he thought about new beginnings; a new job, a fresh start with his wife…and maybe soon, another baby.

Yes, things were definitely looking up.

To be continued...

Onyih Odunze

Number 7 is pretty long and will be posted in two parts. Stay tuned for the second installment. Thanks for reading!

Did you enjoy this story? Please, kindly pass it along...and leave a comment below.

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Published on January 20, 2014 11:39

November 14, 2013

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 6

On Relationships RSSNumber 6: {Appreciate the Little Things. Never Take them - or him - for Granted}

2 months later

The silence, broken only by the hum of the central AC wrapped itself around her – oppressive and stifling. Mindful of something lingering and unresolved between her and Drew, she was careful to never be alone in the office with him. It had been relatively easy until now because the Front Office Coordinator, Jasmine always closed the office at 5.30 p.m. Besides Chiaka, there were three other people who worked in the office, managing sales and liaising with the clients. Drew himself was often out in the field, monitoring construction and tackling problems hands-on. But today had been different. First, Jasmine had called in sick so Cindy, one of the Sales Representatives had covered the front office for her. Unlike Jasmine, Cindy left with all the others at 5 p.m. on the dot.

Source: Bing Images

Chiaka herself stayed a little after 5 p.m. on most days, and was usually out by 5.15 p.m. But, she had been held back dealing with a problem with one of their most important accounts. The work schedule on the strip mall had exceeded estimates and the project was close to running over budget. She had spent all afternoon adjusting the estimates, working on the spreadsheets to tweak the budget. Finally, exhausted but pleased with her efforts, she had looked up and seen the time. It was 5.30 p.m. and it seemed everyone else had left. At least Drew wasn’t in the office. Thank God, she breathed.

Grabbing her purse in one hand and lunch bag in the other, she was rushing down the short hallway that connected her office to the exit when she heard the door open. It’s probably the cleaning people, she thought as she rounded the corner and came face to face with Drew.

It was obvious he had just come in from a site. The chambray shirt he wore was open at the collar and sweat beaded his forehead, despite the cool November weather. Tucked into heavy work boots, his blue jeans stretched tight across his hips.

A slow smile curled his lips when he saw her and a tendril of something snaked its way through her.

“Well, what a surprise” he drawled. “I had almost forgotten you worked here, seeing as how you make yourself scarce whenever I’m around.”

Chiaka flushed. “Hello, Drew. I have no idea what you mean.” She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how unsettled she was around him.

His eyes twinkled as he laughed. “Kay, don’t give me that.”

He had always called her ‘Kay’ for short because he found her name difficult to pronounce. Hearing the affectionate nickname used to make her smile. Not anymore.

“Andrew, please don’t call me that. I’m sure you’ve dealt with enough Nigerians to be able to pronounce my name properly. It’s Chiaka….Chi-ah-kah…” Her tone was clipped, repelling any playful banter.

Silent, Andrew regarded her thoughtfully. It seemed to her that the room got warmer because she suddenly felt flushed. It couldn’t be because of his casual, yet intense regard of her, could it? The way those eyes traveled down her, with a hint of the intimacies shared in another time. A different life. Though he said nothing, tension crackled in the air as they stood – one seemingly casual and relaxed, the other on edge; a bird poised for flight at the first sign of danger.

Andrew took a step toward her and she stepped back, almost tripping over herself in her haste.

That darn cleft in his chin dimpled as he chuckled again at her expense. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I was just trying to get by. I need to go to my office and change into some fresh clothes. Come by so we can talk some more. We need to catch up.”

The teasing light in his eyes was familiar and a rush of anger filled her chest. She wouldn’t be in this uncomfortable position…wouldn’t have to stand here and endure Drew’s flirting if it wasn’t for Obinna. This was all his fault. Jaw firm, she walked past Drew resolutely, and stood at the door for a moment.

“Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. You’ll find my report in your email, as usual. That should…catch you up on whatever you need to know. Goodnight, Mr. Curtis.”

She saw his eyes widen at her use of his formal name, and his mocking laughter floated through the door just before she closed it, trailing her down the wide hallway as she sought escape from the emotions that churned inside her.

***

Brake lights twinkled all around the gathering night as Chiaka made her way home. The street lights stood like sentries on I-10, watching unblinkingly as cars filled the six-lane highway, the bottleneck extending for miles ahead.

Chiaka sighed. Rush hour traffic. She had been working at Curtis Construction for two months and she still hadn’t completely adjusted to the routine. It was difficult leaving her son at Lily’s apartment most mornings, when previously she would snuggle with him before they started their day. The days she left him at home with his Dad were easier. Easier in some ways. Seeing Obinna holding their son on those days when he wasn’t hustling to get an interview twisted something inside her. What was he doing playing Mr. Mom when he should have been out there, busting his behind to get a job – any kind of job – to take care of his family? How could he stand there and smile at her when his lies and inability to keep his job had wrecked everything and put her in this untenable position?

Memories of her encounter with Drew filled her consciousness and she suddenly longed for a simpler time. Everything just seemed so complicated. She had known - known it from that day she saw him at Dave's party - that Drew was a no-go area. Then, she had only been concerned about her emotional stability and the security of her marriage. How was she to know that Obinna would lose his job, and they would find themselves on the knife edge of poverty? Pushed to the wall, she had done the only thing she could think of. At the time, it had seemed like the best solution. Now, she felt like a child tugging on the tail of a sleeping tiger.

A slow chill filtered into the car, and Chiaka reached across the dashboard to turn up the heat. As she scanned radio channels, a black Ford F-150 truck swerved from the right lane and cut in front of her so suddenly that her foot reflexively rammed on the brakes.

“What is wrong with you? Ever heard of a turn signal?” She yelled at no one in particular. Frustrated, she fumed as she turned up the volume on the radio. People don’t have manners anymore. A claustrophobic feeling crept up on her as she inched along the bumper-to-bumper traffic. So many people. So many different lives.

Driving past a Toyota sedan, she peeked around at the spectacled driver, quickly looking away when the woman caught her eye. She absently wondered what the driver’s home life was like. Did she have children? A husband? Was she excited to get home to her family, or ambivalent like Chiaka was? She missed the days when she and Obinna actually enjoyed spending time together…now, it seemed like they were either arguing, or icily polite to each other.

The sound of music filtered from the radio, filling the silent space in the car but unable to offer the solace Chiaka sought. She sighed.

Nothing was the same. Everything had changed – and not for the better.

***

Obinna pulled his jacket closer to him as he walked from his car towards Lily’s apartment. Cars lined the parking spaces in front of the buildings, neat rows of sedans and SUVs filling the courtyard – their owners home after the workday, and ensconced in the warmth of their apartments.

His steps quickened and a thrill of excitement filled his senses. The interview that afternoon had gone really well. There had been so many, he had almost lost count. After a while, they had blended into each other – one recruiter after another, emails flooding his inbox. In the past two months, his resume had caught fire, attracting recruiters like moths to a flame. Glad for the attention, he had replied emails, done phone screens and attended interviews. But, this one felt different. It was different. And somewhere deep inside him, in the place where truth resided, he knew.

This is it! He laughed aloud and felt like jumping up and clicking his heels. He would wait to share the news…until he was sure. Until he could show Chiaka the offer letter – proof. Maybe then things would go back to normal. It had been difficult in the beginning, staying at home while his wife went to work. What was his role as a husband and father if he couldn’t go out every day and provide for his family? After years of having a steady job and regular income, he was at odds with his circumstances.

"Look bro, you can't let that stuff eat you up" his friend Dave had said during one phone conversation last week. "You know my wife is a Doctor, right? She's been earning more than me for years!"

"Seriously?" Obinna asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, it was hard in the beginning because we men - especially us Africans - have this extreme ego thing where it feels like we should be the ones taking care of the family. You know? You want to earn the money and have your wife manage the home and look after the kids."

Obinna nodded in agreement. "No man wants to depend on their wife's money. It's...emasculating."

"And it was. But, man. I had to get used to it. First of all, this is America. Gender roles aren't cast in stone the way they are back home. I knew I was working hard and doing my part, so my wife and I talked it over and we've been good ever since."

Obinna rubbed his head in frustration. That was the thing. The talking part was where things got sticky. He and his wife hadn't had a civil conversation in what felt like forever, even though it was just the last couple of months. How would she react to any discussion about her job and the way he felt? Would she be willing to have an open-minded discussion or assume that he was trying to find fault with her?

“So…umm, what do you think would be a good way to approach the conversation?” Obinna asked.

A thoughtful silence greeted his question, and Obinna imagined his friend pursing his lips as he considered his answer. Dave’s hands would be steepled as he leaned forward, Bluetooth firmly attached to his ear. He hoped Dave wouldn’t probe. The desire to protect his wife’s privacy still burned in him, a steady flame that wouldn’t be quenched despite strong winds.

Finally, Dave cleared his throat and spoke. “Maybe, you can start by doing. I think sometimes we talk too much, yet our actions don’t validate what we say. I know you help take care of your son and all that, but pick up some more slack around the house. Do the laundry or keep the house clean so she doesn’t have to do it when she gets home. Heck, surprise her and have dinner waiting for her. That way, she’ll see that you’re not coming from a place of jealousy or resentment, you know?”

Hmm…doing instead of talking. That kind of made sense. He’d thanked Dave and hung up, caught up in his thoughts. Maybe if he shared more of the workload at home, she would see that he cared about her – about their family. She would see that he was willing to do everything in his power to make things work. She would see that he loved her and trust him again. Maybe. He hoped so. As he neared Lily’s apartment, his steps quickened, keeping pace with his heart. He fervently hoped so.

***

The savory smell of spicy noodles filled the narrow kitchen, as a small pot bubbled on the stove-top. Television sounds from the living room punctuated the air with Team Umizoomi’s high-pitched voices and giggly adventures. Enraptured, KT sat - bathed, dressed and ready for dinner. Obinna whistled to himself as he worked, a pleasant feeling of accomplishment coursing through him. He checked the noodles one final time, turned off the burner and set it aside. Taking out four eggs from the fridge, he cracked them into a bowl and reached for some seasoning. The array of spices in the cabinet interrupted his happy efficiency and he stopped for a moment.

Long narrow bottles of curry powder, thyme, something called ‘all-seasoning’ and cayenne pepper lined up in a neat row. Smaller containers sat in front of the larger ones, like rows of children in a school picture separated by height. Herb seasoning, onion powder, shredded pepper, ginger.

Hmm…does ginger go into an omelette? He wondered. He thought about checking for omelet recipes online, but pushed that idea aside. It would take too long, and the recipe might call for something he didn’t have at home. He wanted to make sure he was done before Chiaka came home. It was already 6.30 p.m. and she would be home any minute.

Ignoring the dizzying selection, he reached for the salt, added a little sprinkling of red pepper and whisked the eggs. He was in the middle of turning the heavy omelet for the third time when he heard a key in the door. Obinna turned down the heat and quickly set dishes on the little breakfast table that sat next to the kitchen. Luckily, he had taken out the place mats beforehand, arranging them in a pleasant pattern around the table. It didn’t look as good as when Chiaka did it, but it was the best he could do.

Running a jaundiced eye over his handiwork, Obinna shrugged. It would have to do. A curious sense of anticipation swept over him when he heard KT's trilling “Mama!” and Chiaka’s subdued response. He was standing with his back to the door and suddenly felt shy about turning around. He closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to act normal despite the recent tension.

Turning around slowly, he smiled “Hey, honey. Welcome home.”

Chiaka’s slow gaze wandered over the table, place mats at crooked angles against each other, then meandered to the saucepan, full of sizzling eggs. Finally, she looked at her husband and the look on his face pricked her heart. He looked hopeful, expectant…scared. He had clearly worked hard to have dinner ready when she came back, yet she could see that he was unsure of her reaction. Considering the atmosphere in their home the past few months, she didn’t blame him. How did one go about repairing a breach that felt miles wide? Was a simple meal of Indomie noodles and eggs enough to plug the holes?

She gave him a little smile and could see his shoulders relax in relief. Arms full of KT, she walked over to her husband and gave him a hesitant kiss on the cheek. She felt the smile pull his cheek before she saw it. His arms encircled her and their son and for a minute, she relaxed, glorying in his embrace and the love she saw in his face. Suddenly tired, she leaned against him, drawing strength from his solid frame. The next thing he said shattered her momentary peace and restored the unsettled agitation that had plagued her of late.

“How was your day, baby?”

***

To be continued...

Onyih Odunze

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Published on November 14, 2013 06:38

October 1, 2013

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 5

On Relationships RSSNumber 5 {Don’t forget the Lord...}

The shrill alarm coming from the other side of the room dragged Chiaka out of a not-so-restful sleep. She burrowed deeper into the covers as she tried to capture the rest that somehow eluded her. From the sounds Obinna was making, she could tell that he was getting ready to shower and get dressed. A desire to catch a few more minutes of sleep kept her in bed as her husband moved around the room. Though deep under the covers, she could feel his gaze on her. She was sure he was looking at her quizzically, wondering why she wasn't making any attempt to get up and get dressed. Or maybe he wasn't looking at her and didn't care if she went to church with him or not.

"Aren't you going to get ready?"

Annoyance rippled through Chiaka. "No, I don't think I'll go today. I'm kind of tired."

A short laugh escaped Obinna,, but he wasn't amused. "'Kind of tired'? What kind of excuse is that?"

Chiaka pulled herself up to a sitting position, raising her eyebrows at his sarcastic tone. "It's not an excuse. It's a reason. I'm not going today because I'm tired. Simple." You can go jump in a lake if you don't like it she thought, but didn't say aloud. Some things were better left unsaid.

"You haven't gone for a couple of weeks. I left it alone because I know you've been upset and I didn't want to make things worse. But, you can't keep cutting church like this." Obinna kept his voice calm...placating almost. He didn't want to make an already bad situation worse.

"Cutting church? You say that like I'm your teenage daughter cutting school. I'm not a child, Daddy" she said in a cutting tone. "I can decide where I want to go and when. So, please, just quit."

Uh-oh. She called him Daddy...in that tone. She only did that when she was really, really, really upset. Socks in hand, he walked over to the bed and sat at the edge.

"Baby, this is a crucial time for us. I know things haven't been so great around here, but I trust God to open a door. One of these jobs will click...and it will happen soon."

Obinna reached for Chiaka's hand and was heartened when she let him hold it, though she made no effort to grasp his hand.

"Baby," he continued "I really believe that things will change soon. But, I also believe that God is watching our attitude. He's watching how we act while we wait. Are we going to draw closer to Him or push Him to the backburner and do our own thing?"

A sense of frustration filled Chiaka. How could Obinna be so resolute in his faith while she had none? How could he still trust God when she was on the edge of turning away? God had surely abandoned them. If He cared so much about them, why had He let Obinna get fired? Why did He close every door in their faces as they struggled to make ends meet...barely able to keep their child in diapers? Wasn't there a passage in the Bible that talked about God having thoughts of peace towards them...towards her? There was noting peaceful about what they were going through. Nothing at all.

Leaning towards Obinna, she stuck her face in his and pointed her finger for emphasis. "I. Am. Not. Going. If God doesn't like that, He can tell me so Himself."

With that she turned away and resumed her position under the covers. "And you better take KT with you!" she called out, voice muffled. She didn't have the energy to keep up with him. Not today.

Throwing one last glance towards his wife's huddled form, he prayed "Lord, help us. Please. Please. Our hope is in You." As Obinna walked away to wake KT, a strange sense of foreboding clung to him, but he tried to shake it off. He was jobless, his family was on the knife edge of poverty and his wife was slipping away from him. Really, what else could happen?

***

A few days later...

Dawn’s breaking light filtered through the venetian blinds, bathing the bedroom in a soft glow and revealing the empty space beside her. But that wasn’t what woke Chiaka up. Her senses had tingled with a strange sense of excitement since the previous night, preventing her from sleeping much. It had been two weeks since she had called him. Driven by desperation, fueled by a need to do something – anything – she had pressed the ‘Send’ button and invited her past into her present.

It had been so easy really. Easier than she thought. Heart pounding, she had waited as the phone rang. Thoughts bombarded each other in her head…she remembered her reaction to him when they had bumped into each other at Dave’s party two months ago. Why would she let him back into her life? Indecision warred with need in those few seconds. Anger flashed through her. This was all Obinna’s fault. All of it – their non-existent savings, the tension at home, teetering on the edge of financial ruin – all of it could be traced back to one person. Her jaw tightened and her resolve was strengthened.

One of us has to get a job, she thought. None of the jobs she had applied for had responded and it had already been a month. They couldn’t go on without any income – they barely had this month’s rent. What would happen after that? Should she do nothing, they could soon find themselves on the street, or imposing on the kindness of family.

No, she shook her head. She would do her part….like Obinna should have done his.

“Mama…Mama”

KT’s whining cry snapped her mind back to the present and she scrambled across to the foot of their king-size bed. He was already standing in his crib, arms outstretched.

“Mama!” he chortled. Laughing, Chiaka scooped him up and nuzzled his neck while he giggled. Love for him filled her and she sighed, looking over to the empty side of the bed again. She wished it were that easy with her husband. He had taken to leaving the house very early every day. Most times, he was gone before she woke up around 6.30. She had no idea where he was going, but she didn’t want to ask. Conversation had been lacking between them since Obinna’s big reveal about his job. The few times they talked, every word was cloaked with tension so thick; she could cut it with a knife. Her unease had increased since she spoke with Drew and set up the interview – Drew had referred to it as a meeting – for today. From his subdued reaction the last time they spoke about Drew, she knew Obinna would find it hard to deal with the fact that she had called him, so she didn’t mention it.

Glancing at the clock, her senses pulsed with that strange excitement again. It was time to get ready. Entering the bathroom, she started running water for KT’s bath. It was usually better to have him bathed and fed before she got ready herself. He could sit in his crib and watch TV while she showered.

As she showered, she could hear KT laughing happily as his favorite show – Mickey Mouse Clubhouse – came on.

“Tootles, Tootles” he yelled.

Chiaka smiled to herself as rivulets of water ran down her body. Their next door neighbor, Lily had agreed to watch KT for a couple of hours while Chiaka went on her interview. Her thoughts wandered as she imagined how the meeting would go. Toweling herself dry, she walked into the room and ran straight into a solid mass of muscle.

A guilty flush warmed her cheeks as she realized Obinna had come home early…for whatever reason. Today of all days! The last thing she wanted was to explain where she was going or who she was going to see. Good thing he was home though, maybe he could watch KT while she was out.

“You’re home early today” she said.

Obinna flinched at the accusing tone in his wife’s voice. She seemed constantly angry with him since he had finally told her the truth about his job. He knew things were difficult and he was trying his hardest to get a job, but nothing changed the look on her face or the tone of her voice.

Nothing except KT, he thought bitterly to himself as he watched her cooing to their son. Why did things have to be so complicated between them? He sighed and walked into the closet to take off his running clothes. Hearing sounds behind him, he turned around and realized Chiaka was getting dressed to go out.

“Going out, baby?” He forced a lighthearted tone into the question.

She nodded wordlessly. “Yes, I have an interview.” She looked at him like she wanted to say more, but looked away briefly then continued. “It’s at the Galleria and I’ll be away for a couple of hours. I was going to take KT over to Lily’s but maybe you can watch him instead.”

The lilt in her voice made the statement seem more like a question. But Obinna had his own questions. She had an interview this morning and was only just telling him? Something constricted in his chest but he pushed the hurt aside and somehow managed to smile at his wife.

“That’s fantastic, baby. I hope it goes well. What company is it?”

A look that he couldn’t quite identify flashed across her face, then it was gone, replaced with a blank expression.

“Oh, it’s a construction company. They need an accounts manager and asked me to come in. I won’t be gone long.”

He smiled at her gently. “I know you’ll be great. Don’t worry about KT…I’ll take care of him.”

Chiaka watched as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. Something stirred in her as she reluctantly admired her husband’s body. She had seen the hurt on his face when he realized she hadn’t told him about her interview. Everyone could keep secrets. It felt petty, going back and forth in an effort to show him how upset she was, but she couldn’t do anything about it right now. Maybe later. They could talk later.

Yes, she nodded to herself. They would talk when she came back from her interview.

***

Chiaka was glad Lily answered the door on the first knock. Her round face creased into a welcoming smile as Lily glanced leaned over to look behind Chiaka for KT.

“Where’s KT? I thought you were bringing him over?”

“Yeah, I was but then his Dad came home so he’s watching him” Chiaka explained.

“Oh, okay. No worries. Mason will be disappointed though. He loves it when KT comes over.”

“And KT loves coming over. Maybe we can arrange something for tomorrow? I have to leave now, I don’t want to be late. But, thanks.”

“No problem. Bye, Chi” Lily waved.

“Bye, Lil.”

Her heels clicked on the concrete as she walked quickly towards her car. Luckily, it was almost 10 a.m. - past rush hour - so traffic on I-10 was light. She pulled into the high rise building that housed Drew's offices and found a spot in the parking garage.

As she got off the elevator, she looked around, impressed with the subtle elegance that surrounded her. Drew's office was more of the same - the dark beige carpet felt plush under her feet and tasteful art pieces hung on the walls of the front office.

A well-dressed young woman sat behind a gleaming desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Her navy shawl-collar jacket and tie-neck blouse were tasteful and blended in with the stately office.

"Good morning, ma'am. How may I help you?" She asked with a slight smile.

Chiaka cleared her throat nervously. "Good morning. I'm here to see D...umm...Mr. Curtis." She didn't want to give anyone the impression that she knew Drew personally.

"He's expecting me."

The receptionist swept wavy, brown hair her off her face as she looked at something on her computer. "Of course, Ms. Namani" she said, pronouncing it without the double-N. "Please, have a seat"

Chiaka sat in one of the leather guest chairs and flipped through a magazine unseeingly. Lord, I hope everything goes well. Please, just let this work out. Part of her scoffed at the fact that she was trying to pray after snubbing God for the past few weeks. Why would God hear this prayer anyway? He hadn't heard any of the previous ones she had been sending on a daily basis.

"He'll see you now. Right this way please." The intrusion was a welcome diversion from her thoughts and Chiaka followed the woman to a door at the end of a short hallway. There were three or four other offices located on either side of the brightly lit corridor, each with an employee behind a desk, busy with what Chiaka presumed was construction business.

Hmm, Drew seems to be doing really well for himself. The thought gave her comfort and a measure of confidence that he would be able to find a position for an old...friend. So, why did she feel like Daniel, walking into the lions' den?

To be continued...

Onyih Odunze

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Published on October 01, 2013 11:19

September 12, 2013

Bloody Hands {Interlude...}

SOURCE: Microsoft Images

Her heart
raced as she hurried out of the conference room. Sitting there for the past few
minutes had taken every ounce of self-control she had. The pressure had been building and her mind screamed at her
to get up, but she didn’t want to disrupt the meeting or call attention to herself.
Anything but that.

Bent over,
she hurried down the hall, hoping her stooped posture would help curb the
release. The heaviness in her pelvis told her it was almost time, but she still
hoped she could outrun the avalanche. Heart thudding, she walked as quickly as
she could, heels muted by the vinyl flooring.

‘Where is the restroom?’ she wondered helplessly. It was
coming. She couldn’t stop it. A few more precious seconds ticked by as she
walked around – she saw a room number 228 – she had just seen that plaque ten
seconds ago. Her heart sank – she was going around in circles.

As she
hurried down the previously travelled hallway, she saw Mr. Lang, the man who had
spoken at the meeting. Hearing steps behind him, Mr. Lang turned his head and
she quickly ducked behind the wall, silently thanking God that she hadn’t
stepped out into the open. She didn’t want anyone to see her. She knew what was
about to happen and she couldn’t let anyone else in on that. Her own private
hell.

Surreptitiously,
she clung to the wall that hid her until she saw the slight Asian build disappear
behind another square corner. Still doubled over, she dashed out but it was too
late. The rush of blood ran down her leg, soaking her underwear and her
pants leg. Desperately, she cupped the blood with her free hand but it was an
exercise in futility. The blood dripped down her pants and through her cupped
hand, leaving a trail of perfectly round dots in her wake. Mortified, she rushed
for the first door she could find. STAIRS it said. Well, then she would take
the stairs.

‘It’s a good thing I decided to wear
black pants today’
she thought absently.

As she
half-walked, half-ran down the stairs, she could feel the lump nestled in her soaked panties. It
rubbed against her, but she resolutely closed her mind. She would deal with it
when she got to the restroom. She had worked in this building for two years,
but her department was housed on the second floor. The meeting today had been
held on the fifth floor. Shouldn’t all the floors have the same layout? Where in God’s
name was the restroom?

Through the glass
opening in the door, her eyes caught a familiar sign – a man, woman and child
holding hands – and she sighed in relief. Finally. Hands sticky with blood, she
pulled the door, but it wouldn't open. She pulled it again. No luck. Frantic, she
ran to the door on the other side of the stairwell and pulled that door. Locked.
That was when she saw the sign ‘NO EXIT ON THIS FLOOR’. She cast a longing
glance at the restroom…her salvation – so near, yet so far.

Reversing direction,
she went back up the stairs. By this time, the blood in her hand had dripped
out…one drop at a time, leaving behind a sticky residue. She refused to
think about what that residue was. Thinking about the trail of blood she had
left upstairs made her feel guilty for some reason. She mentally sent out an
apology to the people who would have to clean that up. There was no way she
could go back and do it. Thoughts of finding a restroom and removing her bundle
gripped her. Everything else could take a backseat, including the questions:

‘God, why me?’

‘Why here?’

‘What have I done wrong, Lord?’

The questions
would always be there. But, would she ever find the answers?

Finally, she
spied a restroom on the first floor. Somehow, she had been able to make it
there without attracting too much attention. Stoically, she pulled down her
underwear and removed the bloody bundle – her unborn child. Critically, she
examined it for signs of humanity…for signs of a defect. She saw none, but she
knew what she held in her hands.

Before I formed you in the womb, I
knew you…

Carefully wrapping
the bundle in tissue, she said her goodbyes to what might have been and
disposed of it the only way she could. She wished it had happened at home. She
would have wrapped it in a little white towel and buried it with some dignity.

At the sink,
she scrubbed her hands and tried to get the dried blood out from under her
nails. A few traces remained but she left them. She took off her jacket –
another fortuitous choice – and slung it around her hips, tying it in front. Then
she picked up her purse and her notebook and walked out as normally as she
could.

Spreading her
jacket over the driver’s seat – no sense getting blood on everything – she got
in and started her drive home. Still dry-eyed, she called her husband to tell
him what had happened.

“Baby, are
you alright?” his concerned voice asked. The sound of his voice broke the dam. Then
the tears came. As she wept for what she had lost, one line ran through her
mind:

Though He slay me, yet will I trust
Him.

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Author's Note:

I wrote this story to address an issue dear to my heart - the agony of a miscarriage. I remember sharing the story of my second miscarriage with someone and she waved her hand dismissively and said "Oh, that was only 7 weeks so it's not a big deal."

NO! It was a big deal...and it is a big deal. So many times, people expect women to just brush things aside and move on and that's why I wrote this story with so much detail. Too much detail? Too much information? I don't think so. The woman in this story miscarried a very young fetus, but her pain and agony is the same as if she lost a 14-week or 24-week fetus.

For us women, from the moment we see that positive pee test, we don't think 'Oh, I have a mass of undifferentiated cells growing inside me'. No. We think 'I'm going to have a baby.' We imagine a little boy or little girl, smiling, cooing, growing...

I know miscarriages are pretty common and I know several women who have experienced this same heartbreaking loss. I wrote this story for them...for anyone who is waiting to get pregnant. Through all the pain, remember this...God is still God. And He is still good. I always use my experience as an example...if God could bless me with two beautiful children - after everything - He can do the same and more for you.

Trust God and Him alone. Don't let anyone rob you of your right to grieve, but after you do, look up and see hope.

Be encouraged,

Yours in Him - Onyih Odunze

Please share your thoughts on this story - I would love to hear them. Thank you for reading.

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Published on September 12, 2013 13:31

August 12, 2013

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 4

Number 4 {Pray Through}Make prayer your watchword; pray always, no matter how busy
you are.

Mind reeling, Chiaka tried to digest what her husband was
saying. Somewhere in the background, KT was crying and grasping her legs,
asking to be picked up. She absently picked him up and patted his back, trying
to soothe him.

Her mind rang with questions. Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t
you trust me? Didn’t you think I deserved to know? She found it hard to believe
that Obinna had been out of work for three weeks and she hadn’t known. So,
where had he been going every morning? Getting ready for work, leaving the
house with his briefcase and customary cup of coffee? Why had he kept up a
charade for so long, and deceived her so thoroughly? If her husband couldn’t
trust her enough to share things with her – both good, and bad – then what was
the point? Wasn’t the marriage relationship supposed to inspire intimacy,
trust, friendship?

Finally, mind still whirling, she asked the first question that had screamed through her mind “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Obinna hung his head “I’m so sorry, babe. I wanted to, but I didn’t know how. I suppose I was in denial. I never expected to get laid off, and I didn’t want to believe it at first.”

“Yes, but that was three weeks ago”, Chiaka said pointedly. Shouldn’t he have gotten over his denial after three weeks of lying to her?

Obinna nodded and released a pent up sigh. “I know”, he said quietly. “It just got harder and harder to tell you as time went on.”

“Why was it so hard to tell me? I thought we were supposed to be able to tell each other anything. Why did you keep lying to me?”

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m sorry.” Obinna reached across and held his wife’s hand. “I have no excuses. I guess I thought I would get another job really quickly, and it would be a moot point.”

Chiaka shifted, trying to get more comfortable on the sofa. KT had fallen asleep in her arms and she clung to him, staring at her husband and wondering if she ever really knew him.

A pained expression crossed his face when she pulled her hand from his grasp, but she didn't care. She couldn't deal with his hurt emotions right now. What about her emotions? Who could she trust if her own husband and supposed best friend could lie to her with a straight face? Was it right that she felt betrayed? Maybe he had a right to keep some things to himself, in an effort to protect his family, keep her from worrying. But, didn’t she have a right to know about something that would affect her life, her son’s life? How would they live? She knew they still had some savings, but overwhelmed by caring for their son, she had asked Obinna to handle the household bills and finances for a while.

"I probably have to get a job”, she said after an uncomfortable silence.

“What about KT? I thought we agreed that you would stay home with him for a few years?”

“Yes, we agreed. But, now that you’ve gotten yourself laid off, that won’t be possible anymore, will it?”

Obinna recoiled as though she had slapped him. Like any married couple, they’d had their share of misunderstandings, but she had never spoken to him like she just did. Derision dripped from her words, and she held herself off from him as if she couldn’t bear to touch him. He shook his head. He was hurt and disappointed, but remained stoic. He knew she would be upset because he had kept something so serious from her.

"So, where have you been going everyday when I thought you were at work?"

"Umm....I was at Starbucks, filling applications."

Obinna saw the emotions flickering across his wife's face and his heart sank. He knew he should have told her the minute it happened, and the longer it went on, the more difficult it became to spill the truth. The thought of losing her trust scared him, but something else loomed even larger in his mind. She had looked at him with disgust just now...would he lose her love too?

***

One month later...

Chiaka sighed as she stared at her inbox...waiting for emails that just wouldn't arrive. Things were getting desperate at home. Their joint savings account was shrinking, and along with it, any semblance of peace or love that previously blanketed their home. Tempers were short, patience non-existent. Obinna seemed to take offense at every little thing and sometimes Chiaka felt like she was living in a war zone: she always had her guard up and was ready to fight. She needed a job. He husband needed a job. But, weeks of what felt like interminable applications hadn't brought any prospects.

"What are we going to do?" she wondered aloud. If one of them didn't get a job soon, they may have to move. She looked around the bedroom she had worked so hard to decorate - like she had the entire apartment. Maybe it will come to that, she mused as she looked at her sleeping son, sprawled out beside her on the bed.

A feeling of helplessness came over her and she leaned against the headboard. They had both agreed that she should stop working right after KT was born. It had felt right at the time; Obinna had a great job and she welcomed the idea of raising her son at home for a few years without the added stress of a full time job. Neither of them could have foreseen what would happen less than two short years down the line. She made up her mind then that it would never happen again; she would find a job and this time she would keep it. KT would go to childcare, and they would never find themselves high and dry ever again.

The other day, Obinna had flushed with shame when she asked him to pick up some diapers for the baby. She knew their savings were running out, and she got some perverse pleasure from watching him squirm. Silently, she thanked God that she hadn't pooled all her money into their joint savings after she stopped working. Her secret stash was proving to be a very valuable lifeline. But, it wouldn't last forever.

As she reached across the nightstand for her phone, her fingers bruhed her Bible. She picked it up and turned the pages unseeingly. It had become difficult to make out time to read it and reflect on it. Running a household and keeping an active 18-month old in check was more difficult than it sounded. Plus, with everything going on, her heart just wasn't in it. She sighed and put it down. Maybe tomorrow, she promised.

She unlocked her phone and flipped to her contacts. For some reason, she had never deleted his number. And now she was glad she hadn't. He owned a construction company that was doing really well. At least it had been when she knew him. Fervently hoping that was still the case, she scrolled down the 'D's and pressed the 'Call' button.

***

To be continued

Onyih Odunze

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Published on August 12, 2013 03:38

July 29, 2013

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 3

Number 3: Talk It Over

Number Three: Communicate Frequently. When you are together, try
to talk over issues that concern you. Never bottle things up ... Speak up and move on.

SOURCE: Microsoft Images

An initial rush of emotion flooded her, like waves crashing
against the shoreline. A quiet storm begun brewing inside her at his quiet 'hello'
and she had trouble catching her breath. The din of the party faded into
background noise and the heat working its way through her body wasn't due to
the temperature in the room. It took some doing, but Chiaka finally managed to
wrestle her breathing into submission as she stared at the man standing in
front of her. The initial shock gave way to a flurry of questions, each racing
quickly through her mind, not even waiting for an answer before the next one
came. Demanding. Urgent.

What is he doing here? How does he know Dave? What should
I say? Does my hair look alright?

Well, some more urgent than
others.

She tried to remember the last thing she had said. It
wouldn't do to appear flustered by his sudden re-appearance in her life. After
all, she was married to a wonderful man and had a beautiful son. Drew...No,
Andrew had no hold over her. Not anymore.

What was the last
thing she had said?

"So, how have you been?" That was a safe enough
question.

"I've been great", he said, eyeing her
speculatively. "You look great."

"Thank you." She cast a smile in his general
vicinity and turned to go. "It was nice seeing you again, Andrew. Take
care."

His lips moved in a mirthless smile "You used to call
me Drew."

"Hmm. Yeah, I used
to" she said pointedly, waving as she walked away. I need to get
out of here. She didn't want her past to come blundering into the new
life she was building with her family. Obinna knew about Drew, but only in bits
and pieces. Chiaka had tried to give him all the sordid details but he had
stopped her.

"Baby, everyone has a past. I don't need to know all
the details. What you've told me is enough. I love you and you love me...that's
enough."

She knew then that he was the one. And she wasn’t going to
let anything or anyone wreck her well-ordered life.

***

“Who was that guy?”

What? In the
middle of wrapping her hair for the night, Chiaka turned, brush in hand and her
long hair only half-way done.

“What guy?” she asked as she tried to figure out her answer.
It was silly for her to feel so guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet, the feeling had clung to her for the rest of the evening as she chatted with Jules and
danced with Obinna. An acute awareness of Drew’s presence had loosened her
tongue. Determined to show that she had moved on quite nicely without him,
Chiaka talked more and laughed louder than she usually did in public. Jules cast her a couple of puzzled glances, but she had resolutely ignored her.
Nobody would know how much seeing Drew again had affected her. Especially Drew.
Covert glances around the room told her that he had kept his distance, firmly ensconced
on the other side of the room, chatting easily with a group of people.

Why did Obinna have to bring him up now, when she had spent the last few hours trying to forget she had ever seen him?

"He's the one I told you about..." she said in a subdued voice. Even though she had told Obinna about her ex, it still felt uncomfortable to talk about him. Idly, she wondered if there was some kind of etiquette for discussing previous intimacies with one's husband.

"Oh."

Obinna watched his wife as she sat at the dresser, brush in hand, hair in disarray...almost as if she had forgotten what she was doing there in the first place. During the party, he was preoccupied with the secret he was keeping, trying to figure out how to tell his wife about his job. He still had another paycheck coming and they had some savings, but he needed another job as soon as possible. All his efforts had so far yielded no results and he was getting worried. Though distracted by myriad thoughts, it was impossible to miss her encounter with that guy...Andrew? Drew? Whatever his name was. A hot streak of jealousy flashed through Obinna as he remembered his wife's stunned reaction to the man...how her mood had suddenly changed after their quiet exchange. Usually on the quiet side, she had become garrulous, her laughter ringing over the loud music. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was drunk. Now, her behavior made sense. He had made his peace with her past. He thought they both had. But her reaction said otherwise. Why was she so affected by him? Was it just the discomfort of seeing an old flame, or was it something else?

Silent, Obinna watched his wife as she regained her composure and continued brushing her hair, wrapping the long lengths around her skull in circular motions until it lay flat like a skull cap. She quickly tied a scarf around her hair and climbed into bed beside him. As she smiled and reached for him, the questions nagged him: Who was she thinking about, even as she lifted her face for a kiss? Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to her lips and her ardent response sent heat through him. Even as he lost himself in her, he couldn't lose the image of her standing, lips parted, skin flushed, staring up at a man he had never met who had somehow taken up residence in his head.

To be continued...

Onyih Odunze

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Published on July 29, 2013 08:20

June 25, 2013

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 2

Number Two - Never Lie to Each Other

Obinna grabbed his cup of coffee with one hand, juggled his
briefcase in the other and kissed his wife and son as he left for work. Just
like he had yesterday. And the day before. The soft feel of Chiaka’s kiss
stayed with him as he went downstairs from their third floor apartment. It
stayed with him as he walked past the cars neatly lined up in their parking
spots, waiting for their owners to beep them open and jump in, ready for
another day. Just like Obinna was doing. Ignoring the questions pounding
through his brain, he pulled out of their apartment complex on Richmond Avenue
and headed South on TX 6 freeway. Again, just like he had yesterday and the day
before. However, instead of heading toward his office at the Galleria, he
stayed on TX 6 and made a U-turn when he got to Interstate 10, stopping at
every red light, feeling the frustration that came with rush hour traffic.

“Should I tell her?”
he wondered again. He had asked himself the same question over and over for the
past two days. What would she think of him? How would she react? He had never
hidden anything of consequence from his wife, and the secret was killing him.
It had been two weeks already and he was somewhat surprised that he had managed
to skirt the issue for so long. Absurdly pleased with himself, he smiled
briefly, then stopped. Nothing about this
is funny, he reminded himself. Lord, what should I do? How can I tell her
the truth without losing her trust?

Seeing the familiar green icon, he pulled into the parking
lot and got out, reaching into the back seat to grab his briefcase. The sight
of the cardboard boxes stopped him cold. He pulled one close and looked inside.
Pictures of his wife and son. Happy pictures. Smiling pictures. He had proudly
displayed them on his desk at work, excited to show off his beautiful family. Look how God has blessed me, he wanted
to shout to everyone. Do you see? As
he ordered his Starbucks coffee and settled in for the day, he wondered how to
tell his wife that he had lost his job two weeks ago.

***

A few days later

Chiaka hurriedly finished her makeup, and dashed out of the
apartment. She fanned herself with her hand as she walked quickly towards the
car. Sweat beaded her forehead and her silk blouse developed an affinity for
her back. The short walk felt like a full workout session and she sighed
blissfully when she got into the car where Obinna was waiting.

“Phew! Some weather we’re having!”

Her husband nodded absently. “Yeah, Houston summers are
brutal.”

She pulled down the visor and fussed with her hair, tucking
a few errant strands back in place. “Have you spoken with Uncle Fred?”

“Yes. He said KT is doing great, and having loads of fun
with his cousins. Not missing us even a little bit.”

Chiaka smiled. It was nice to have some time alone with
Obinna after dropping KT off at Uncle Fred’s house. Uncle Fred’s son, Greg was
visiting with his wife and two small children and it was nice for KT to play
with the other children. Sometimes, she thought he must get lonely and bored
being stuck with her all day. Maybe it’s
time for Number 2…she had mentioned it to Obinna sort of jokingly a couple
of days earlier, and he had snapped at her that it was too soon. He’d walked
away muttering about budgets and timing, and Chiaka tried to ignore his
attitude. He was probably stressed at work, or just having a bad day. She
glanced at him and reached out a hand to smooth his furrowed brow.

“Why so serious baby? Is everything okay?”

Obinna jerked as though she had slapped him. “Why do you ask
that?”

Surprised at his somewhat extreme reaction to her innocent
question, Chiaka paused before answering. “It’s just that you’ve seemed a
bit…unlike yourself recently. It’s like you’re upset about something.”

A flicker of emotion swept across Obinna’s face so quickly
that she would have missed it if she wasn’t watching so closely. It was there
and then it was gone.

He waved a hand dismissively. “No. No, I’m fine. There’s
nothing going on.”

Unconvinced, Chiaka pressed. “Are you sure?”

“Just drop it, baby. If something was going on, I’d tell
you!” he snapped.

Hurt by his tone, Chiaka nodded slightly and glanced outside
as other cars zipped by. They had been invited to their friend Dave’s birthday
party and she had been looking forward to having some fun with her husband, but
not if he was going to be like this. She looked at him again and sighed at the
look on his face. It’s going to be a long
evening.

Her phone beeped and she pulled it out of her purse,
grateful to have something to distract her. It was a text message from her
friend Julia. “Hey, are you guys coming
or what? Party is in full swing!”

She smiled and quickly tapped out a reply: “We’re on our way, you party animal J”.
Trust Julia to already be there having fun. With the frosty atmosphere in the
car, she suddenly couldn’t wait to get there herself.

As they approached the neighborhood, Chiaka pulled down the
visor for one more look at her hair and makeup. The neatly lined houses sat
behind large, neatly-manicured lawns with wrap-around porches. Spring flowers
provided bursts of color and several children were out riding their bikes or
playing basketball. As they approached Dave’s house, she could hear the faint
strains of Nigerian pop music. Cars were lined up on both sides of the street
outside Dave’s house, so they drove around to find a free spot, careful not to
block anyone’s driveway.

Not wanting to spend an uncomfortable evening with her
suddenly-silent husband, Chiaka reached for his hand as they walked towards the
house.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, baby” Even though I can’t figure out what I did. Still, for the sake of peace…
she quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Forgive me?”

Obinna sighed. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just
tell his wife the truth and be done with it? They would work through it as a couple
and figure out what needed to be done. He just kept hoping he could get another
job quickly and then he would tell her what had happened. They were still okay
financially, because he still had a couple of checks due from the office and
they had some savings. He knew he should tell his wife, but something kept him
back. Maybe it was pride. He had always taken pride in being a good money
manager, even when he was single. He had a decent job right out of college and
had worked his way up gradually. Being laid off had been
humiliating…devastating. He hadn’t even finished processing it and how was he
supposed to tell his wife? Dredge up the feeling he had as he sat across from
his boss, watching his job slip away?

He looked at his wife’s earnest face and felt a twinge of
guilt. She had done nothing but trust him and love him. I’ll tell her when we get home tonight. She loves me. I know she’ll
understand. Suddenly gripped by an overwhelming love, he grasped her hand
and squeezed tightly. He pulled her to a stop just outside Dave’s house.

“No, baby. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped
at you like that. Forgive me?”

She smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss.

The door opened behind them and a female voice said “Eww.
You guys, please get a room.”

They laughed and broke apart to greet Julia. Obinna said a
quick hello and walked over to a group of friends. Chiaka lingered. “Hey,
Jules”

Julia hugged her. “Hey, babe. Where’s KT?”

Chiaka laughed. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“Hmm, who has time for you?” Julia scoffed. “Please, tell me
what you’ve done with my boy.”

Chiaka smiled gratefully at her friend for lightening her
mood. Jules had a knack for doing that.

“He’s at Uncle Fred’s house haniging out with his cousins.”

“Ok, cool. Give him a kiss for him and tell him Aunty Jules
misses him.” Julia turned towards the kitchen and dragged Chiaka behind her. “Come
and get some food.”

“Hey, Chiaka!” a voice called out.

Glimpsing their host, she quickly let go of Julia’s hand and
gave him a hug. “Hey, birthday boy. Happy birthday. Where’s madam?”

“Oh, she’s upstairs doing something. Grab some food, there’s
lots to eat.” With that he waved and moved on to greet other guests. The room
was pulsing with music and energy as people milled around, eating, and having
loud conversations.

There was a veritable feast set up in the kitchen; trays of
jollof rice, golden brown fried plantains, stewed beef and chicken garnished
with chopped peppers, meatpies, and buns – a deep-fried doughy snack made with
flour, eggs and sugar. Spoiled for choice, Chiaka made a plate with a little
bit of everything for Obinna and grabbed two pieces of chicken and some
plantain for herself.

She picked her way carefully through the crowd and spotted
Julia across the room waving her over. Thankful to see an unoccupied seat in the crowded room, she
sank down next to her friend.

“Wow, there are so many people here.”

“Yeah, you know Dave. Mr. Popularity. He should have just
rented a hall and saved himself the trouble.”

Chiaka nodded in agreement. “Abi?”

Chiaka made quick work of her food. “Save my seat for me,
Jules. Let me trash my plate. I’ll be right back.”

Jules stretched out her right hand “How much will you pay
me?”

“You’ll have my undying gratitude” Chiaka said with a
chuckle as she walked towards the kitchen, shaking her head at her friend’s
antics.

The kitchen trash was overflowing, plastic plates and
half-eaten food spilling out onto the marble floors. Chiaka gingerly stuck her
plate in the corner of the trash can and stood for a second to make sure it
didn’t fall out. As she turned to leave, a male voice said quietly “Long time,
no see.”

Suddenly, it felt like all the air in the room had been
sucked out. The sound of that voice sent shivers down her spine and the hair on
the back of her neck bristled. She knew who it was even without turning. How could
she forget that voice? How could she forget the way he had called her ‘baby’,
and the things he had done to her. No, correction. The things she had allowed
him do to her. She had tried to put that part of her life in the past. Tried to
forget it and move on. She constantly reassured herself that being in Christ
made her a new creation. Old things have
passed away and everything about me is new. She had said it to herself
everyday and had started to believe it when she met Obinna. Obinna had been
stunningly different from the man she was sure now stood behind her. He had
treated her with respect. He had treated her
body with respect and she had loved him for it. Her past was firmly in the
rearview mirror…or so she thought. But, no. Here it was, forcing her to confront
it once again.

She turned slowly, somehow wishing she could have just
ignored him and kept going. His strong jaw line came into view first, with that
tantalizing shallow cleft in his chin. Her eyes traced his face, from his firm
lips and his aquiline nose to his dark eyes. Those eyes. As dark and mysterious
as always.

She steeled herself and prayed her voice wouldn’t betray the
conflict in her soul. “Hello, Drew.”

To be continued.

Onyih Odunze

Haven't read Part 1? No problem...just click on 'Older Posts' and catch up with the story so far. Thank you very much for reading! Knowing you're there keeps me writing. Stay inspired...

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Published on June 25, 2013 08:17

March 27, 2013

Ten Things His Mother Told Me: Number 1...

This series was inspired by a mother’s letter to her new daughter in-law.

Number One – Build a Lasting Relationship

Source: Microsoft Images

A thrill sped down her back as she shivered in anticipation.
She knew what was coming…expected it even, but it was still a shock when she
felt the gentle pressure of his lips on hers. She clung to him like a starving
woman as he deepened the kiss, gently at first, and then more ardently at her fevered
response. When his hand moved towards the buttons on her blouse, the haze of
passion cleared and she gasped.

She wrenched herself away from him, shunning the contact she
had so desperately craved just a few minutes ago “No! No, Drew…please don’t!” God, what is wrong with me? What am I doing?

Contrite, Drew pulled back, a look of consternation on his
handsome face. “Goodness…I’m so sorry baby, I...”

“Don’t call me that!” she screamed almost hysterically as
she hurriedly smoothed her mussed hair and slipped her feet back into her black
pumps.

“That’s what my husband calls me” she muttered under her
breath as she walked – no, dashed out of Drew’s office. She ignored his calls
for her to come back, resisted his apologies. She had to get out of there. Desperation
fueled her and she ran, trying to escape what she had done…what she had been
about to do. She gave no heed to the fear curling in the pit of her stomach as
she hurried to her car, stumbling on the concrete pavement as she made her way
across the parking lot. Some other emotion gripped her, but she didn’t
recognize it until she fumbled her car door open and sat staring at herself in
the visor. It was emblazoned all over her face…lurking there in the shadowed brown eyes of
the woman that stared back at her. Guilt.

***

Six months ago…

Chiaka laughed as she tried to catch up with her crawling
son. He had just upended a white cardboard box that held her old letters and
cards and was heading towards the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Oh no you don’t, KT!” she exclaimed as she grabbed his
legs. Frustrated, the baby kicked against her hold and burst into angry sobs
when he couldn’t break free.

“Aww, don’t cry my KT boo boo…Mummy just doesn’t want you
making a mess.” Obinna and Chiaka had shortened their son’s name to KT after a
few weeks, because his given name – Kanyitochi – was a bit of a mouthful. They
figured he would either grow into his name or decide to keep the nickname.

Chiaka and her son were spending the day together as they
did most days. She had decided to take a break from her job and stay home with
him for a few years. Fortunately, her husband’s income was enough. For now. Hopefully, for a while, she thought as
she cuddled her son. She never tired of his baby soft smell, or of kissing that
spot right between his neck and his shoulder. It always made him laugh and left
her amazed at how blessed she was.

Thank you Lord for
such an amazing gift. She had heard stories of couples who tried to
conceive for years and she was grateful that she had gotten pregnant before it
became a ‘prayer project’. Her son giggled as she tickled him, but his good
mood soon dissolved into sobs when she put him in his playpen.

“Sorry sweetie, but Mummy has to clean up this mess.” She
sighed as she surveyed the cards and letters littered all over the carpeted
floor. She surfed channels and found a one showing cartoons, which caught KT’s
attention and transformed the sobs to sniffles.

As she picked up the papers strewn all over the floor, a
small rectangular piece of paper with slightly faded writing caught her
attention. She placed the other documents back in the box and held up the
paper. She smiled as she realized what she was looking at. It was a note from
her mother-in-law, written shortly after she and Obinna had gotten married
eighteen months ago. She read the first few lines and remembered why she had
decided to save it.

Your relationship
counts. I am handing him over to you so both of you can cleave together as one.
Create enough space in your whole being for him…he has never married before, so
give him time to learn.

It was an unassuming note, written on the back of an airplane
ticket holder. Filled with motherly advice, the handwritten lines were
scribbled next to each other, cramped and difficult to read. But she had
treasured it and saved it, more as a keepsake than as something she would find
useful. Now, I’m glad I did, she
thought as she skimmed the rest of the note.

Frustrated at being left alone, KT started to fuss and
Chiaka hurriedly picked up the rest of the papers and stuffed them in the box.
Walking into the bedroom closet, she placed the box on the closet shelf where
it would be safe from her son’s inquisitive hands. She folded her mother-in-law’s
note and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. I need to read this later. God knows I need all the help I can get.

***

The muted sounds of the TV and the humming AC were the only
sounds in the house. Mercifully, KT had fallen asleep and Chiaka was enjoying
some much needed respite. She lay on the couch in the living room, one arm
holding the sleeping baby sprawled on her chest. She knew she should have put
him in his crib but she was so tired, she could barely move. She consoled
herself with the fact that even if he somehow fell out of her grip, it was only
a short distance from the couch to the floor. Remembering her hard wooden
floors, she reluctantly sat up.

She glanced at the clock hanging on the beige walls. 5.45
p.m. Obinna would be home soon. She walked down the short hallway to the
nursery and gently put her son in his crib. Quickly, she picked up the toys
that littered the small living room and put them KT’s toy box, careful not to
wake him. She picked up a few other odds and ends and looked over her work when
she was finished. The ultra-modern living room gleamed, just the way Obinna
liked it. The charcoal sectional sofa was free of clutter and the matching ottoman
sat squarely in the middle of the plush area rug. Sunlight filtered through huge
bay windows and bounced off the shiny wooden floor.

Satisfied, she walked the short distance to the kitchen and
started getting dinner ready. Measuring out a few cups of rice into a bowl, she
lightly washed it at the sink, quickly running her fingers through the long,
slender grains. The sound of keys in the lock told her Obinna was home and she smiled
happily as he walked in, shedding his jacket and tie.

She walked towards him and kissed his cheek “Hey, honey.”

Obinna dropped his briefcase on the floor and hugged his
wife. “Mmmm…that feels good. More please.”

Chiaka giggled as he nuzzled her neck, enjoying the feel of
his lips on her skin. “Not now. The baby is asleep and I’m making dinner.”

“That little boy is cramping my style”, her husband said in
mock disappointment. “One of these days, we’ll go dump him with his aunty for
an entire weekend so I can enjoy my wife.”

“Promises, promises.” Chiaka smiled. It would be nice to have
some time to themselves. Obinna’s aunt and uncle lived in Rosenburg, about 40
miles from Houston. Their busy schedules meant visits had to be carefully
planned in advance, but it was always nice to see them and it would be doubly great
if they could take the baby for a couple of days.

Chiaka busied herself with the dinner preparations, setting
the placemats on the dining table and steaming vegetables in a saucepan. “Baby,
please could you go wash up so we can have dinner? The rice is almost ready and
I just have to heat up the stew.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry, but I have to dash out for a quick
meeting.”

Puzzled, Chiaka raised her eyebrows. “But, you just came
back from work. Why didn’t you have the meeting there before coming home?” She
studied her husband for a few minutes and sighed at what she saw on his face. The
emotions shifted so quickly, but she recognized one of them – guilt.

“You’re not really going for a meeting, are you?”

Shame-faced, he shook his head. “No. Baby, you know I hardly
get to hang with my guys anymore. I’m just going for a quick pick up game and I’ll
be back before you know it” he said pleadingly.

Obinna had a very close circle of friends and they were all
huge basketball fans. The guys liked to play pick-up games several times a
week, but Obinna had slowed down on the gatherings when they got married, only
attending once or twice a week. She knew he needed space to do things on his
own or with his friends, but it didn’t stop her from feeling lonely. Spending
all day alone with the baby meant she was desperate for adult conversation with
her husband when he came home. She briefly considered making a fuss, but what
would that achieve? There was no point forcing him to stay home and have dinner
with his family, if he would rather be out with his friends.

Sighing with resignation, she forced a smile to her face. “Sure.
Go and have fun, babe.”

She kept the smile on as he rushed through the apartment, shedding
clothes as he went. She wore it like a cloak, hiding her disappointment and it stayed
on as she waved and watched him leave for his game. Luckily, she kept busy
through the evening, bathing KT when he woke from his nap and putting him to
bed after a dinner of mashed rice and vegetables. Energized after his nap and
meal, KT played hard and wore himself out after about an hour. Tired and bored
after KT was down for the night, Chiaka mindlessly surfed channels, watching TV
but seeing nothing. She told herself she wasn’t waiting up for her husband, but
three hours later, she finally gave in and went to bed.

A piece of paper fell out of her pocket as she wriggled out
of her jeans. She picked it up and tears pricked her eyes as she remembered her
mother-in-law’s note. Create space in
your life for him, she had written. Tears streamed down Chiaka’s face as
smiled bitterly at the irony. She looked around the empty room…the cavernous
bed that would feel his absence as much as she did. There was enough space for
him, more than enough…he just didn’t want to fill it.

To be continued…

Onyih Odunze