Daisy: ‘oh! Forgive my ‘patheticness’, like for real you’re gonna be in Nigeria!’ she asked, still excited.
Bren: ‘real as hell, told you Africa calls’
Daisy: ‘And a lovely sound she made too!’ Daisy added.
Bren: ‘So Girlfriend, get prepared to get your life back.’ Brenda said matter of factly.
Daisy: ‘you are the life i need Bree, God i can’t wait!’.
Bren: ‘Next Saturday and am touching down, so keep a date with me’
Daisy: ‘I definitely will!’ Daisy replied excited still.
Bren: ‘get good life till i come’
Daisy: ‘i will!’ Daisy replied differently for the first time since she had been hearing that phrase.
Bren: ‘catch ya later then’ Brenda said and cut the call.
Daisy gave another bout of scream before slumping on a close settee. Nobody can ever imagine what it meant for Bree to come around! A family and a friend, that’s what she is. She would definitely get her life back, Jide wasn’t gonna stop her, infact she would work on moving on and forgetting the one mistake she had made. Life wasn’t so cruel to her afterall and she wasn’t gonna be miserable.
Daisy: ‘Am coming home, coming home, tell the world…’she sang happily to J. cole song. For It expressed how she presently felt. All the heartache for five painful month locked in this marital sham, was gonna soon be over or atleast bearable. She smiled once more and sang on happily.
Jide drove into his compound at about 6pm today. Adamu had opened the gate with eyes wide open, it was unusual for his boss to be home at this time. Not on a Friday anyway! Jide manoeuvred his car swiftly to the parking space specially designated for his prized ‘baby’. If Adamu’s face had registered surprise, he hadn’t notice. He was simply happy, today was Friday. It meant fun and relaxation, he wanted to enjoy it to the fullest and spend it with his wife.
He smiled at the thought. when had he finally realised what the word ‘wife’ meant? And why was he even referring it to Daisy? He halted that line of thought, switched of the car stereo and climbed down.
Jide: ‘home sweet home!’ he said to himself. How lovely a feeling it was, returning to a house that didn’t exude the former emptiness it had; to companionship-visibly scarce but palpable nonetheless; then a wonderful meal; and a pretty movie-crazed wife. He chuckled at this & made for the house.
Jide couldnt place when and how he had started looking forward to coming home, all he knew was that he had suddenly developed the urge, somehow, he’d gotten tired of staying out late to spite his wife and prove to himself that he was in control of his life.
Few minutes ago he’d envied a young couple he’d seen while driving. They were gardening outside their home, oblivious to the world around them. Even though he wasn’t one to muddle in dirt, gardening, he knew they was an intrinsic value to what they were doing, something he and Daisy didn’t share. Anger ate him up at first, then gradually he turned green with envy. He had unconsciously craved for what they shared, even decided to work towards building one.
Now in the parlor, he frowned. Daisy was nowhere in sight, a glance further, revealed his food awaiting him on the Dining, that was a normal occurrence. He hadn’t failed to notice that Daisy had avoided him successfully the past months, infact it had always been the highlight of his evening whenever he happened to return early. But today, the emptiness strangely affected him and he desperately wanted to see Daisy.
Even if they didn’t get to talking, her presence would suffice. When last had he even seen her? He wondered. Jide moved further, stopping only to cast a disappointed glance at the arranged plates on the dining, he was hungry quite alright, but the food wouldn’t quench all the hunger raging in him.
At the hallway, again he stopped in front of his former room. He felt a powerful urge to open the door, if only to take a peek at the one woman who he was strangely missing this night. But He didn’t get to doing that, the knowledge that she’d be surprised at this attitude of his, stopped him midway, just inches to the door knob. He sighed, pulled back his hand, then made for his own room; surprised stiff at his thoughts and action this night.
In his room later on, he felt a painful constriction in his heart as he saw the room for what it was-‘a study’. He couldn’t wait to be out.
Jide hungrily dug into his dinner of semovita and Egusi soup, the quietness of the parlour forgotten and the cravings and wanting to see Daisy relegated to the back. He chewed on a piece of meat for a minute and then sipped the glass of juice he had helped himself to from the freezer. Even if he hadn’t personally bought them, he knew there was never a shortage of it in the house. Somehow he had caught on with Daisy love for juice, even wondered why but couldn’t pursue further. They weren’t in talking terms anyway. Whoever had postulated that the way to man’s heart was through his meal, jide thought, weren’t wrong one bit, for his heart was satiated with this meal and each balls of semo he swallowed increased his love and admiration for his wife this night.
His lovely wife, he thought again. They were so many questions he wanted to ask her, questions like why she took daily nocturnal trips to the kitchen to take juice? He also wanted to know why she so loved music, movies and all that silly stuffs she watched? Then where had she learnt to cook this well? How come she had all the characteristic of a Nigeria-made wife, yet had lived in America? For how long too? He wanted to know.
These were pointers that there was a history to her, a history he so wanted to unravel, he most importantly wanted to know why she had agreed to marry him and stick with him against all odds, was there something she saw in him that he and other women he’d dated didn’t see? He needed these answers desperately. But he didn’t fail to note that getting these answers depended on the chance of them ever getting together. Not that he was planning on giving up the chase anytime soon.
These were the thoughts coursing through his mind when Daisy walked in and headed for her favourite chair directly opposite the television.
Names have been changed to protect the identity of the narrator and other individuals in the story.
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