Yasmin drove them back to the province since Edegbe could not feel his legs, he had thought climbing was hard, but getting down was worse. At a point, he considered jumping, he could jump from the top and land on the ground but the height was frightening and he could die. Then he considered rolling, but the many sharp edges scared him, before he would get to the ground, his body would be covered in bruises. He didn't want his date to end with him dead or in a hospital, so he trudged carefully, trying not to complain and when he finally got to the ground, he slumped to his bottom.
And so Yasmin drove them back. "I'm surprised you're not complaining."
"Yasmin, please leave me alone," he groaned.
She laughed. "Another reason I like you is because you rarely hide your feelings. I actually admire you for that, if you're angry, you act like you are, if you're tired, it's there on your face. I could never do that, I feel like I have to tolerate a lot, like I have to hold back a lot."
"I would have said it's something about socialization, but it's actually men who have been socialized to behave like that. It's just you, life experiences and all. But you're telling me this now, you're opening up to me."
"I guess it's because you don't pity me. You know, I can't have a proper conversation with my brother, he always pities me. I like him but I can't open up to him because I always end up feeling pathetic."
He thought for a while. "I don't think I can have a conversation with somebody like that too, but maybe he does not know any other way to behave with you, maybe you've detached yourself so much from him because of your marriage and he feels responsible for not doing anything for you."
"You're sensible today," she joked.
"No wonder I don't like you." But he was smiling. He felt relaxed, except his legs did not agree. "So you're a paramedic, what do I do for my cramps?"
"I could come tomorrow morning to give you medicine."
"You'd do that?" He asked expectantly, a boyish glint in his eyes.
"By ten," she said.
"I can't wait that long without thinking of cutting my legs. Come by eight and don't have breakfast, I'll prepare something."
"I'll look forward to it. And how is your wound?"
"You're asking now after you've led me through hell?"
"Good, the night would not have ended without you complaining."
She dropped first at her house although his came before hers, he had persuaded her, told her he wanted to drop her off and she asked him how it was him dropping her off when she was the one driving. He said it didn't matter, he wanted to watch her leave.
"Wait." He opened the door after her and thrust his phone into her hands. "Your number?"
She imputed the digits. "You could have gotten it from my card."
"I'm asking you now." He saved her number and watched her leave, then returned home and told Victor he was going to have a visitor the next day. "Yasmin is coming tomorrow, open the gate for her."
"Alhaji's wife?" Victor inquired.
He swore under his breath. "She's not his wife." Did the man not know that he had kissed her, would he kiss her if she was Alhaji's wife?
Efe leaned against the door, arm's across his chest, waiting for him. As he wobbled towards him, he noticed his eyes locked on his groin, intensely watching.
"What are you looking at?" Edegbe asked, covering his middle.
"Did you have sex with her?"
He removed his hand to look down at himself. "Can you tell just by looking?"
"No."
"Then why are you looking?"
He shrugged and laughed. "Guilty conscience, lover boy."
"It seems everybody has a loose nut nowadays." He slumped into the nearest chair, his legs shaking.
Efe sat beside him. "Why are you walking like that? I've never known you to be a hard lover."
"Does everything have to be about sex to you?"
"You left the house since morning, you're coming back now, and your legs are shaking. Guyyyyyyy, did you go throughout the day?" His eyes shone in disbelief.
"You're nuts." He stood up. "I'm going to my room and by the way, she's coming over tomorrow morning."
"To live with us?" He teased and laughed.
"Now you sound like Victor."
When he got into his room, he could not stop himself from ringing her.
"What is it?" She answered on the second ring.
He looked around the room, looking for something to say, probably something written on the wall with the clue he needed. "Em….I just wanted to know if the number was connecting, I'm home."
He heard her tsk. "Are you a cocky teenager?"
"I don't mind at all." He liked her, every moment. He wanted to say it, he wanted to show it, he wanted her to know that he loved every moment with her, he didn't want any back and forth with her. "Good night, then."
"What a boy."
But he knew from the sound of her voice that she was smiling. That night, he thought his sleep would be blissful. That was a lie, he couldn't sleep at all. Was he really a cocky teenager to be awake all night, tossing and thinking of her? Does his feelings had something to do with teenagehood? Sure, he had had his fair share of women, but those had been shallow, on a surface level of lust and pleasure and it had always ended quickly, none left a tingling in his chest, none had him awake all night, and none kept him energized even after a sleepless night.
Efe was in the kitchen when he entered rubbing his heavy eyelid off the sleep he did not get and dragging his legs as the cramps had worsened, he had a habit of drinking water in the morning, staring into space. Edegbe wobbled past him and opened the kitchen cabinet.
"I wonder what you did yesterday that has affected you like this," Efe greeted.
"Do we still have that dried cassava?" He asked setting food ingredients on the kitchen table.
"The kitchen belongs to you, I don't snoop around looking for dried cassava."
"I know I kept it somewhere." He opened the other cabinets, emptying its contents.
"What do you want to cook?" Efe asked him, finishing his glass of water.
"Abacha," Edegbe replied, still search, frustration etched on his face. "I doubt Yasmin has eaten it."
"Can you prepare Abacha?"
"Victor brags that he can, you know it's a food indigenous with the Igbo people." He found the cassava that had been shredded into small tiny slices and left to sun dry. "I knew I kept it somewhere." Then he turned to Efe. "Tell Victor to come over."
Victor looked like he could die from excitement when Edegbe told him to make the African salad. He smiled so much cracks appeared by the sides of his eyes, Edegbe thought he saw tears too.
"But when the woman comes, who will open the gate for her?" He asked.
"Do you want to go back to the gate?"
"God forbid!"
"You sound as if you're not going back there again," Efe said. "I'm going to have a bath."
"Can you please not dress in a tuxedo today?" Edegbe pleaded.
"Why? Are you scared she'll realize how handsome I am and choose me over you?" Edegbe chased him out of the kitchen with a spatula.
He returned to watch Victor prepare the dish, telling him to add a little more water, more salt, less seasoning until Victor said, in a barely controlled voice, "Sah, maybe you should cook the food let me go back to the gate," and he clamped his mouth shut, noticing his distaste in the coaching, it wasn't like he could prepare the dish anyway.
It was an easy dish to prepare, soak the cassava, make the gravy, mix it, slice onions, pepper, and uziza leaves and serve them, beautifully decorated, on the Abacha. He prepared the kompo sauce and fried the fish that he spiced with seasoning and salt, moving away from the sizzling hot oil so that it would not splash on him, even though his shirt was long sleeved and even though he wore a mitten. He could be dramatic at times.
When they heard the ding dong minutes into their culinary finesse, Victor asked him. "Should I go and open the gate, sah?"
"Efe would do that." He turned off the stove and removed his mitten.
Efe stuck his head into the kitchen. "Should I bring her here?"
"Yes."
Efe opened the gate and stepped aside for Yasmin to enter. She looked at him like she expected him to say something and when he didn't, she asked, "So, you don't greet your boss's guests?"
"Yes," he deadpanned and locked the gate after her. "This way please." He led the way into the kitchen and offered her a seat in the dining.
"Good morning, Madam." Victor waved at her.
"Oh, what a homely scene," she said dryly as she looked from him to Edegbe.
"Why do I detect mockery in your voice?"
"What's there to mock you about, you're preparing breakfast with your family."
"Yasmin please. Just sit down while we serve the food."
"I hope you and Victor did not connive to kill me with all this pepper?" Efe asked as he Edegbe served the food.
"If pepper is the death of you then you should have died a long time ago."
"Sah, Abacha is good with pepper, very delicious."
"Victor would say anything to sell his produce." They all sat on the table. "Edegbe, you're in a hurry to eat, remember that time you prepared Tiwo, what was it again? And you were just looking at it like it flew from Mars."
"I was being cautious." He gestured at Yasmin. "Try it, I asked Victor to cook this because of you."
"What is this?" She twirled the slender slices on her fork.
"African salad, Abacha."
"The infamous African salad, so this is what it looks like." She took a forkful and ate it slowly, the men waiting for her comment. "It does look like salad, the slices and all, it's good."
"Just good?" Edegbe pressed, not satisfied.
"You did not even cook the food, why are you seeking for praises?"
"This tastes like honey, you can't just compress it to 'good'."
"It good though, really good, tastes like something your driver washed his hand well to cook. How is the cramps?"
"When I arose from my bed this morning, I felt like I became paralyzed."
"I brought the medicine, I could also give you a massage if you won't be shy about it."
Edegbe smiled, then he laughed. He had promised himself, their next date would be on him, and he was going to give her as much trouble as she has given him. But their next date did not happen until a couple of weeks later, fate had a different plan.