King

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours, passed. I didn't know how long I stayed inside the car, eyes glued to the seat Uti just vacated. I took another look in the direction which she walked off, waiting for her to come back and offer some sort of explanation for acting the way she did. Nothing like that happened. I dialled her number, it rang for less than a second before the call ended. I scoffed, she blocked me, she fucking did.

There was a tap on the window, Junior's face came into view. I hissed. It was his idea from the start and Tomiwa, albeit grudgingly, gave his blessings. He shouldn't have. She fucking blocked me. Me.

My fingers hovered above the buttons on my side of the car, hesitant to let him in. He knocked again and I stared wistfully at him, watching his lips move and his hands raise in a questioning manner. When he knocked a third time, I finally let the windows down.

"Guy, what's up? What's wrong with you?" He bent till his shoulder was through the open window of my car. "How did it go?"

How did it go?

"She blocked me," I muttered, still in a bit of shock. I was always the one doing the blocking, never the other way around. I ran my hands through my face as if that would miraculously clear my confusion. "Women are something else, so complicated." 

Way too complicated for me to try and understand them. I should probably stick to only fucking them, at least I was good in that aspect. It also didn't require that much talking, just satisfactory moans and groans.

"I'm leaving, are you coming?" I was only telling him because I was his ride home. This was a stupid idea to begin with and I had learnt one lesson today, never take love advise from a fellow playboy.

What more did she want? I have never willingly offered to start a family with any woman, let alone ask them to move in with me and the best she could do was ask me to stay away from her. I shook my head, I would fucking stay away from her.

Junior banged on the side of the car, "King ... Guy, open up." I murmured an apology and he took one step back for the door to open.

"How did it go?" He reiterated his question when he was seated, casting glances at me. 

His fingers drummed on the dashboard and he gesticulated with his left hand for me to speak up. I paused, uncertain about sharing her response with him. I shrugged, it was largely his fault. Next time I would tell him to shove his suggestion far up his ass.

"Not good," I replied, trying to forget that cold, unforgiving glare she sent my way before hopping out of the car. "She's done, I'm done. It's over. Can we go now?"

His drumming on the dashboard seized and he rubbed his hands aggressively against his trousers like a recovering crack addict. Dude was shocked, he actually expected his plan to have worked, as did I.

"How can you be done? What did she say?" He turned sharply to me like I was to blame. "What did you tell her? What did you do?"

My heads quickly went up in surrender, how was it my fault? Matching his cold, death-like stare, I said, "I didn't do nothing, she said I should stay away from her." 

The sides of my head pounded as I went over her last words. My index and middle fingers worked their way to my throbbing temple, trying to drown her voice out. Stay away from me. I scoffed. I could do that, I would do that, I needed to fucking do that.

"Is that all?" Junior asked and I nodded. "You didn't say anything to her, she just said you should stay away from her?"

When he put it that way, it sounded bogus. I shook my head, thinking of the right words.

"I asked her to my baby mama and she got upset." I raised my hands up in frustration. Women. One could never understand them.

Junior, surprisingly, didn't seem to share in my frustration. He pinched the bridge of his nose, turned ever slowly to stare at me like I had grown a second head.

"Your baby mama? Not your girlfriend? Not your wife?" I shook my head, not him again with the talk of wife or girlfriend. If she was going to live with me, what was the point of putting a name on it? "Your baby mama?"

"Yes." I placed one hand on the wheels, turned the key in the ignition with my face arched in his direction. "I'm leaving."

The purring of my Lamborghini Aventador penetrated the quiet and I raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. If he wanted to go back in, that was fine with me. Let him spend some more time with his shortie, Faith. Some of us were not destined for that kind of life and I would not sulk about that.

"If someone sees you right now, looking as sharp as you do, they will think you have sense. They will not know it's only echo, sawdust that's inside this your big head."

Echo? Sawdust? Now, that was a stretch. I grimaced and turned off the car. There was so much sense in this big head of mine. 

"No," I shook my head, a finger pointed in his direction, "no, not you too, Junior. I'll not have you insult me. All I did was follow your lead and look where it got me."

How dare him blame me? I was only doing what they advised me to do. Talk to her, which was exactly what I did. I wouldn't even have brought the topic of children up if she didn't. Why did she get mad?

His answer came after a short pause. "You cannot ask Uti to be your baby mama."

"Why not?" I asked; people did it all the time. It was also the highest form of commitment I could ever give to any woman. Even Tibi, as much as I disliked her, wouldn't have made such a big deal out of this. I even asked Uti to move in with me. 

Junior pinched the bridge of his nose again and shook his head. Was he getting angry with me? What did I say that was so wrong? What the fuck was wrong with everybody?

"You cannot ask a woman to leave her wedding to become your baby mama, it doesn't work like that."

"It's not going to happen right away, she asked if I wanted her to be my baby mama and I said yes." He shook his head and I sighed, this was proving more difficult to explain. At this rate, I would confuse myself.

"We will go out on dates, to the movies, we will do whatever she wants," I added with evident frustration. "I even asked her to move in with me, her and her kids."

A pin-drop silence took over the car. Maybe mentioning the kids was not such a great idea. None of them was aware and I wasn't sure how she would feel on hearing they found out about her children from me.

"She has kids?" I nodded, raising two of my fingers to indicate the number. "She has two kids and you want her to leave someone who's ready to start a new family with her, for you? To be your baby mama?"

He hit his hands on his legs twice and started laughing. "The King! The King!" He raised his fists up in a mocking manner and I was tempted to slap him hard across his face, this was nothing to laugh about.

"Guy, how? How can you confidently ask that of her?" As though his laughing at me earlier wasn't enough, he continued, "she did the right thing, you know? You don't deserve her, you should stay far away."

My shoulders deflated instantly. Wow. How could he say that to me? I was his best friend, his brother from another mother.

"That's very helpful, Junior, so nice of you to point that beautiful fact out. Thank you." The hurt I felt at his words was laced with the sarcasm that was dripping from my voice. Only Tomiwa was allowed to be this mean to any of us, it was in his nature, not Junior's. He was supposed to comfort me.

"Now I see things in a whole new different light especially how undeserving I am of her," I finished with a grimace.

Junior rolled his eyes at me, not a care for how I was feeling at the moment. I didn't like this mean version of him at all. 

"You want to take her on dates, go to see the movies but you won't ask her out, why?" He asked and I kept mute, he didn't get it.

Relationships were a lot of work - mostly tears, screams and fight. It would never last anyway, so, why commit to it? Without a label, it was much easier to move on. No one would force you to deal with a partner -you promised to be with until death do you both apart- while going through a messy divorce. Because you now hated each other.

"I want to go home," I murmured, overcome by sudden tiredness. It was time for me to take a much needed vacation, anywhere outside Calabar would be good.

One look at Junior and I realised that he was right. I didn't deserve her and it was really selfish of me to ask her to give up the things I could never provide for her. One of which was marriage, it was for people like Uche and Tomiwa - the lucky ones and of late, luck had been far from me.

"What are you so scared of King?"

* * *

An image of myself stared back at me as I waited for the video call to connect from the other end. The time at the upper right corner caught my eyes and I pretended not to see it. I was staying far away like she asked me to, it was the least I could do. She could consider my absence at the show today as a wedding present from me to her.

"Mother! Cover up," I growled into the phone as Mother came into view wearing only a two-piece bikini. One of my hands moved to cover my eyes with me occasionally peeping through my fingers.

There were many people I didn't mind seeing in a bikini and none of them was my mother with her chest in front of my face.

Mother took her time putting on her kimono and after what felt like ages, I heard her voice with its usual sharpness. "Next time, don't video call me without notice."

"Today is Sunday," Sundays were her days of rest, "you should be at home." I adjusted my phone on the dining table to have a better look at her surrounding, it was unfamiliar. "Where are you?"

The ground around her looked sandy and the sound of other people chattering in the background, plus the waves and her choice of outfit led me to believe that she was at a beach. Abuja didn't have any beach.

"Dubai." My shoulders slumped at her admission. She must have noticed the change because she asked, "do you want to come? I tried calling, your phone was off."

"I don't know," I began, one quick lesson learnt - never leave my phone off for more than a day, "I was thinking of going home."

"Gabriel is there," she shrugged, her other hand reached for something by her side and when it came into view, it was a cocktail, "you can still go, two of you need to talk, bond. You can't avoid him forever."

"Mother, you know that's not true," I smiled, "I've been quite busy but I'm free now."

Gabriel was her sixth and hopefully, her last husband, the only man who lasted longer than Father and also the richest. I was not avoiding him. Okay, maybe, I was. 

A part of me had gotten used to her routine of constantly changing husbands. Sometimes, whenever she called, I would pause and hold my breath, waiting to hear that distinct, emotionless voice she used whenever she wanted to announce her divorce.

"Yes, let's pretend that you do like him," she muttered sarcastically, taking a sip from her cocktail drink, "and you've just been busy."

How was I supposed to like or form a relationship with any of them when they barely lasted? I tried to but I couldn't. Her ability to move on quickly, from a divorce to another marriage never ceased to amaze me, as if she never made a promise to God. 

It was from Mother that I learnt that vows were meant to be broken. Whether or not they were exchanged in a church, in the sight of the Lord. It didn't matter.

"I don't dislike him," I replied, I really did not. I never gave him much of thought either, he made her happy and that was all I cared about. "Mother ..." I trailed off, "do you wish he never left?" 

I have always wondered if she missed him, if the many husbands was her own way of filling the void Father left. They had been so happy together, the ideal parents to a bubbly, little me. I used to look up to them as my ideal family but with more children until the fights and screams started.

"Your father?" I nodded, "I'm glad he did, if not, I would have left him."

A grim line appeared on my face. She would have left him? Why then did she cry that much after he left? Red, puffy eyes that makeup could barely cover to breakfast, faltering voice when she gave commands to the maids. And she would have left him?  

I shook my head in disbelief, I had called Father once, begged and cried on the phone for him to come back; young, stupid me. He said they had fallen out of love, irreconcilable differences. Like that made much sense to a child who only wanted his mother to smile again. 

Mother grew slimmer, she only picked at her food. I started to sneak into her room after the maids had tucked me to bed, pretending to be afraid of the dark. It was the only method my young self could think of to stop her from crying herself to sleep. 

It did work but it barely lasted, I was sent to boarding school and the next time I came home, she had remarried. She reverted to her maiden name, had me do the same. We closed that chapter, Father became a distant memory, she never mentioned him again. 

Father and I still talked - short, awkward, mostly one-sided conversations but the money and gifts were constant as they had been for the whole of my childhood.

"King Daniels!"

"Mother." I offered her a cheeky grin and she narrowed her eyes at me. I cleared my throat, I had so many questions. "What changed? You were so happy together."

"I guess we fell out of love," the usual edge to her voice was gone, "we only stayed that long together because of you."

Wow. I was the glue that kept them together for that long. I licked my lips, letting my thoughts wander for a bit. If I decided to ask her out, would she leave, would she fight for us even if she fell out of love?

"Mother, why didn't you try harder? You moved on and kept on remarrying, why?"

While Father never did remarry, except for his long streak of girlfriends, Mother never stayed single for longer than two years. She had the money, power and status, a successful independent woman but she could never stay single. 

She took one long sip from her drink and placed it out of sight, with a sigh, "I don't want to grow old alone and there are so many fine, single men out there, son."

"You could have gotten a boyfriend. Six times, Mother, six times. 1, 2, 3, ... 6," as I said this, I raised six of my fingers up.

"A boyfriend is not a husband," she responded with an exaggerated sigh, "also, sixth time's the charm, not three or third."

She chuckled and I joined her, carefully lowering my hands down. It was good to see her relaxed, without that air of superiority that always hovered above her. I was tempted to ask her what she would do if Gabriel eventually left but knowing her, I knew she would most likely remarry.

"Has Utianle finally broken your heart?"

"Mother!"

"Son!" She replied in that same sing-song manner. "Tell me now so I can find you another tailor fiancee to mend the heart she broke, since you now like tailors," she concluded with a small scowl.

"We are doing just great, Mother. Very fine, we are perfect, awesome. Thank you," I murmured, resisting the urge to laugh.

"I carried you for nine months, you don't fool me one bit," she paused briefly as if giving me a chance to confess, "are you sure everything is okay between you two?"

"Yes, I promise."

Perhaps I didn't sound convincing which made her try again, "Helena is taken but I have a long list of eligible, single la-"

Her words died down, my shoulders sagged in relief and a smile flitted to her lips. "King Daniels, my husband is calling me. End this call."

"Mother," I pouted, I was enjoying this call more than I thought I would. She narrowed her eyes at me and I chuckled, "you are leaving me for another man, it's okay. I still love you, dearest mother."

She blew kisses at me and the screen went blank, I couldn't help laughing. My beautiful ever ready to remarry Mother. I laughed again, eyes lingering on the phone in my hand. Was I really going to let Uti marry someone else? Someone that was not me.

*****

After escaping the fictional Tibi, the real life Tibi, Teefabulous thought it funny to torment me, madam bully. Here you go. 

I do like this chapter though.

Q: What do you think King will do?