Soliat could not register in the gym that week, she was short on cash. Things had been a little, a little? Very tough since her father disowned her. The rumors said that her father disowned her, but she had been the one to part willingly, telling Baba he was now a childless man, that he could, if it pleased him, adopt a child and make her prioritize having a family. He had called her selfish, but if selfish meant deciding to wait until she had her own fiscal dependence, and until she met someone who did not like her because she was her father's daughter, then she was gladly selfish. And so she took her selfish self out of the house and faced the harsh reality that it was difficult to make money, and that money was very hard to come by. And she did not have a job. The thought of waking up every morning, everyday, and hurrying to a place where she would exhaust herself into depression was more was more dreadful than the size of her paycheck, so she freelanced, she work when she found work, and when she didn't, she lived off the money from her last pay. And since her last pay was months ago, she was short on cash. "So tell me about you and Mr Edegbe's assistant?" Alhaji asked, his torso bare and his head propped up by his knuckles. He was watching Soliat who stretched on her yoga mat wearing a tight top and leggings that accentuated her hips and bottom curve, the womanly features that was always hidden underneath her gown.
She brought her hands down and raised her left leg to the side. "Oh, don't ask me about that."
"I want to know what happened."
She stood straight, at akimbo. "We happened to be on the same bus on my way to Nassarawa. Now that I think of it, it's funny they were on a bus, they are obviously rich, living in a house like that."
"Yasmin already dropped the bomb on us. Continue."
She picked up a small dumbbell. "So I saw him and while I was getting down from the bus, I gave him my number and name. Then I boarded a taxi and wound the window down to receive fresh air. Guess what happened next? The paper I gave to him flew into my face from the window."
He laughed. "He threw it away?"
She started doing squats. "Can you imagine that? And when I saw him at the party he just walked by like he didn't know me."
"Did you expect him to jump and hug you, the girl whose number he did not want? Why did you even give him your number?"
"He's handsome," she huffed. "I thought it would be nice to have such a handsome man by my side."
Alhaji placed a dramatic hand on his chest. "And here I was waiting for you."
"Brother Abubakar, be serious! When are you going to get married, you're not getting any younger?"
"The woman I plan on marrying is pushing me into the arms of another woman, how unfair." He dropped his head to the bed, his palm going under it. "I want to sleep."
But Soliat was not having any of that, she abandoned her exercise and lurched on the bed hovering on top of him. "You want I sleep, huh?" She tickled his sides. Laughing hysterically, he flipped her over, changing position so that he would be on top. Trapping her legs between his, he stopped her movements. "Let's see who wins."
She giggled. "Alhaji stop!" She freed one of her legs and knead his thigh. He rolled off her and laid on his stomach telling her how playful she was. She laughed to her and sat on his back, her legs astride on his side.
"If I manage to turn over, kai, you're a dead meat," he warned.
"Try me."
He jumped to his hands on the bed with her on his back and the impact made her giggle. She jumped on his back in a bid to tire him back to the bed. He lowered himself enough for her to let down her guard, propelled his body up with a speed so that she would bounce, then removed his right hand from the surface of the bed, turned over, his back now on the bed, and when she landed on him, she sat on his waist. She clapped, impressed by the tactics.
"I did promise you'll be a dead meat." Alhaji sat upright with her now sitting on his laps, their faces inches apart, their breaths fanning across each other. Then before he could do something he hadn't thought through, he took her off him to the bed, his arm over her waist. "I really want to sleep." Then he closed his eyes.
Internally, Soliat's heart drummed inside her rib cage. The scene had been re-enacted so many times since her childhood and it ended in giggles, why did this feel different? Why did he in a bare torso and her sitting on his laps feel intimate? She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts off her head and then tried to lift his arm. It tightened. She looked at him to see that he had opened his eyes and that his gaze was locked on her. She shuddered. He did too, but to dissipate the tension he smiled and closed his eyes again. "Your father called me," he said.
He heart drummed louder, but for a different reason this time . "Promise me you didn't tell him my whereabouts?"
"You want me to lie to my future father-in-law?"
"Brother Abubakar!" She flung his hand away.
"Solia, you went to a party, a party that was attended by people who knows Baba and you still think he doesn't know you're back?"
"Still, you shouldn't have conceded to it. It's times like this I wish you were like Sister Yasmin, Baba would never call her. Do you remember when I sneaked out of the house when I was twelve? Baba had called her and asked if she knew where I went and although she knew, she asked if he kept me in her care or appointed her as my guardian. I was happy she did that, but then he called you and you're ratted me out."
Soliat was not blood related to Alhaji, but her mother had clutched his shoulder and his eight year old self had watched, with a juvenile pity, her push Soliat to live. And he never forgot about it, even if he did, maybe he had a book that reminded him, and also reminded him to tease her about it. Alhaji and Mrs Yasmin had been her siblings growing up since her parents did not have any other children.
"He's worried about you." Alhaji's voice brought her from the memory lane. "You are his only child and his pride will never allow him to admit it, but he's worried."
"If he's worried then his pride would be as big as a new borne's fist."
He smiled. "You're worried too, I felt the way you tensed when I mentioned his name."
"It's a reflex action. Please don't tell him an this apartment, tell him you don't know—"
"But he knows I know everything about you. Anyway," he brought his hand to his side, "let's leave that for when it happens. I really want to sleep."
When he woke up, two hours later, Soliat was nestled beside him, sleeping too. He smiled at the sight, took a book and a pencil from her first chest of drawer and left her a note. He moved stealthily as he picked up his shirt and wore it knowing a buzz of a fly could wake her up. Then he made for the door and left.
When he arrived home, Yasmin was waiting at his veranda and a smile stretched on his lips. "You should have called me," he said, getting out of the car.
"When did I ever call before coming?"
"Why didn't you go inside the house?" He hugged her despite her folded arm protest.
"I should enter a house when its owner is absent?"
"Sometimes I wonder if you forget you're my sister."
"Am I?"
He opened the door. "Ladies first."
She went before him. "Where are you coming from? Let me guess, you went to see Solia?"
He nodded.
"Why not stop this chase game and just marry her? You could have saved her from the issue with her father if you had just married her."
"Solia doesn't want to marry now."
She sank into the chair he pulled out while he opened the fridge. "At least she has a choice."
The implication stung Alhaji and the movement of his hand paused. He cleared his throat. "How are you?"
She chuckled. "You see me everyday."
"You call that seeing? I can barely talk to you the way I want to, and it's not because people are there, but because you won't allow it. Wallahi Yasmin, you don't even allow me visit you at home, our houses are practically a stone throw away from each other."
"You promised not to whine if I moved closer to you," she reminded.
"I just want to spend time with you," he said in a softer tone. "I want to be there for you the same way you have all these years, I want to make up for—"
"But you can't," she interrupted, "Abubakar, you can't fix anything." She had shouldered the responsibility for the two of them growing up and even though it had cost her a great part of her, she didn't blame him. But she had lost something, and it changed her, and her relationship with her brother took the blow for it. She rose to her feet. "I think I should go."
He waited until she held the handle of the door before saying, "Yasmin, I'm sorry that your life turned out this way."
"I wonder what he's talking about," she muttered, then unable to stop herself, turned to face him. "Do you know why I don't like coming here? Or why I don't want you coming over to my place? Or why I don't like seeing you at times? It's because whenever I see you, I'm reminded of what I had to go through, because you look at me with so much pity." And she hated it, the same way she hated the gnawing in her heart that she was been unfair to him. She responded absentmindedly to the servants who stopped to greet her and when the gate was opened for her, she exhaled. "Wallahi, if it is not the man from south with an indigenous name he cannot interpret, who else could it be?"