As Mirabel arrived home from shopping, she pushed open her metallic door with a soft creak. The faint smell of lavender filled her neatly arranged room. Her bed was perfectly made with yellow bedding that seemed to glow in the late afternoon light, matching the cheerful yellow paint on her walls. She kicked off her new platform shoes, watching them tumble to the floor, and collapsed onto her bed with a huge sigh of relief.
"What a day," she muttered, rubbing her temples. She stretched her arm across the bed, fingers fumbling in her bag for her phone, when a beep caught her attention. It was a message from her best friend, Binta. Mirabel's lips curled into a small smile as she read, "Babe, wassup? Myself and Melody would be coming over in a short while. Please prepare your special delicacy for me."
She chuckled to herself and tossed her phone aside, throwing her head into the pillow. Her mind wandered briefly to the question of what she'd make. What could I even cook for Binta now? And with that picky friend of hers, Melody… I'll think about it later. Let me just take a nap.
But almost as soon as she drifted off, Mirabel jolted awake, sitting up in bed as if chased by something in her dreams. She glanced at the clock and groaned, "Ah, I can't even get proper rest." She sat up and reached for a bottle of water on her side table, whispering to herself, "God, please help me. It's you I'm counting on. I believe one day you'll prove to my mom—and everyone—why waiting on you isn't in vain." Tears welled in her eyes, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. She swiped it away quickly as she stood and made her way to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Mirabel scanned her old but functional cabinets, trying to decide on an easy but satisfying dish. After a moment, she settled on yam and egg sauce—simple enough to prepare, but filling and flavorful. She set a pot of water on the stove and began peeling the yam, letting her mind wander to the comfort of spending the evening with her best friend.
Just as she was setting the yam to boil, she heard a firm knock at the door. Startled, she looked at the clock. "Now now now! These girls are already here? I haven't even finished cooking!" She hastily wiped her hands on a dish towel and rushed to the door.
But when she opened it, she was surprised to see not Binta or Melody, but a delivery man standing there. He held a bouquet of flowers and a box wrapped in a shiny, deep red paper, tied with a white ribbon.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. Are you Miss Mirabel Adejoro?" he asked with a polite smile.
"Yes, yes I am," Mirabel replied, glancing between the delivery man and the unexpected package.
The delivery man handed her a receipt and a pen. "This is for you, ma'am. Please sign here."
Mirabel's heart raced with confusion. She stared at the bouquet, her mind racing through possibilities. Who could've sent this? I don't even talk to any guy these days, not like this… The notion of a "secret admirer" seemed laughably far-fetched.
"Ma'am?" The delivery guy's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Where would you like to sign?"
"Oh—uh, right here?" She pointed at the receipt, then looked back up at him. "But… before I sign, can you tell me who sent this?"
"It says 'Anonymous—Your Secret Admirer.' No name, sorry." He scratched his head apologetically. "But ma'am, if I may… It won't hurt to accept the package. Sometimes men find it easier to express admiration this way, especially if they're shy. At least, that's what I think," he added with a smile.
Mirabel sighed, feeling a bit swayed by his words. Maybe it wouldn't hurt, she thought. Just then, the smell of something burnt made her eyes widen. She gasped, "Oh no, my yam!"
She darted back to the kitchen, her heart pounding as she lifted the lid to find the water nearly boiled away. Quickly, she turned off the heat and stirred the pot, relieved the yams weren't completely ruined. She returned to the front door, where the delivery guy still waited patiently.
"I'm so sorry about that!" she apologized, signing the receipt and accepting the bouquet and chocolates. "Thank you," she said, giving him a small smile as he headed back down the stairs. She closed the door, looking down at the unexpected gift in her hands.
Setting the bouquet and the chocolates on her dining table, Mirabel rushed back to the kitchen to finish cooking. She was cracking eggs into a pan when another knock sounded at the door, and she heard familiar voices chattering outside. Smiling, she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and headed to open the door.
Her best friend, Binta, stood there, radiating her usual confidence. Her caramel skin glowed against her black two-piece suit, and her gold braids were neatly wrapped in a doughnut bun. A small, single tribal mark on her left cheek accentuated her face, giving her an air of elegance. Beside her was Melody, who wore a flowing pink maxi dress, her black wig styled in a sleek bob that framed her face.
"Ohhh, Mimi!" Binta squealed, throwing her arms around Mirabel. They hugged tightly, laughing as they swayed back and forth.
Melody rolled her eyes, exclaiming, "You two should grow up already! You see each other all the time but still act like long-lost twins." She pushed past them, stepping into the living room.
Inside, Binta inhaled deeply, her eyes lighting up. "Mmm, something smells delicious! What's on the menu?" she asked, settling onto the couch.
"Yam and egg sauce," Mirabel called from the kitchen.
"It better be good!" Melody's voice rang out.
Ignoring Melody's comment, Mirabel brought the food to the table. "Binta, could you help set the table?"
"Sure thing, Chef Mirabel!" Binta chimed in, gathering plates and silverware with a grin.
After they all ate, the three girls chatted casually until Melody's eyes landed on the bouquet. She stifled a laugh, shaking her head. "So, Mimi, when were you planning to spill the tea? Your best friend needs the deets!"
Mirabel gave a sheepish smile. "I meant to tell you guys! I was more focused on cooking… plus, I haven't even looked through the chocolates yet."
"Let's open it, then!" Binta said, nudging her.
As Mirabel unwrapped the chocolates, Melody gave her a scrutinizing look. "Honestly, Mirabel, I don't get you," she began, her tone dripping with disdain. "How can someone as pretty as you still be single? If I were your mother, I'd be mortified. You're getting old, you know."
Binta gasped, her voice rising in anger. "Melody! That was way out of line. You think that's how to show appreciation after eating her food?"
Melody shrugged, scrolling on her phone. "Just being real. A little push might do her some good."
Binta shot Mirabel an apologetic look, reaching across to squeeze her hand. "Ignore her, Mimi. You're the most beautiful and capable woman I know. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."
Mirabel tried to smile, but she could feel her composure cracking. "Thanks, Binta," she whispered, feeling tears prick her eyes.
"You'll find the right person, Mimi," Binta said softly, squeezing her hand again.
After a few more minutes of idle chatter, Melody stood, her phone ringing. "Well, I have to go—my boyfriend's calling. Some of us don't sleep alone at night," she muttered with a smug smile.
Binta sighed, barely looking at Melody as she left. But as soon as the door shut, Mirabel's emotions finally spilled over. She burst into tears, her body shaking with quiet sobs. Binta immediately wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly.
"It's okay, baby. Don't let her words get to you," Binta whispered, her voice calm but fierce. "You're enough, just as you are."
Through her tears, Mirabel managed a shaky, "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll be fine, Mimi," Binta reassured her. "You're stronger than you know."
After some time, Mirabel wiped her tears, the weight in her heart feeling a little lighter. "I know. I'll be okay," she whispered, grateful for the friend who always saw her worth.