The next morning, Mirabel woke up feeling unusually light, a sense of calm washing over her. With only one day left of her two-day break, she resolved to make it productive. Clad in her brown pajamas, her hair in a messy bun, she decided to sift through the backlog of emails and letters from the past week.
As she flipped through the stack, one envelope caught her eye. It read: From Aunty Kiekie. Intrigued, she tore it open and found an invitation that read, "Favour , your cousin , will be getting married on Saturday, November 23".Her heart sank; the wedding was the very next day. Impossible, she thought, knowing she had to be back at work on Monday. Besides, she and Favour weren't close. If they were, she would have received a more personal message.
While Mirabel was still lost in thought, her phone rang, startling her. She picked it up hesitantly and recognized the voice on the other end.
"Mummy?" she stuttered. "Good morning, Ma."
"Good morning, Mimi, my lovely daughter. How are you this morning?" Her mother's unusually cheerful tone caught Mirabel off guard. Mrs. Ruth sounded as though she was preparing for one of her press meetings where she would proudly flaunt her achievements. This warmth felt foreign; their relationship of late had been rocky, a roller coaster of emotions without much laughter.
"I'm fine, Ma," Mirabel replied, sitting down on her bed, trying to gauge the reason for her mother's mood.
"I'm glad to hear that," Mrs. Ruth said warmly. "Mimi, I know we've had our ups and downs, but everything I do is only for your good. I want you to have the best in life. I know I can be hard on you, but it's because I care." Her tone softened, though Mirabel still detected a hint of firmness beneath the words.
Mirabel's throat tightened with emotion. "Mummy, I understand," she said, tears welling up. "I know you mean well, even if it doesn't always feel like it."
"Stop crying, my dear," Mrs. Ruth soothed. "You're my only child. Everything I do is for you. I promise to treat you better from now on."
Mirabel wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her heart feeling lighter. "Thank you, Ma. It means a lot to me. So, enough about me what have you been up to in Abuja?"
Mrs. Ruth chuckled. "Oh, now you want to know about me? Aren't you the one who's been acting like you don't care?"
Mirabel laughed softly. "Mummy, I'm sorry. I only acted that way because I didn't want you to think your words always get to me."
"Fair enough," Mrs. Ruth said, her tone playful. "Well, Abuja is fine, but it's boring without you here. You know me, though I never come last in anything!" She laughed heartily.
Then her tone shifted slightly. "Speaking of events, there's a wedding tomorrow. Favour, your cousin, is getting married. I hope Aunty Kiekie sent you the invitation?"
"Yes, Ma, I got it," Mirabel replied, glancing at the sky through her window. "But tomorrow isn't possible. I can't take more time off work; I just started this job."
Mrs. Ruth's cheerful tone dimmed slightly, though she kept her composure. "I know how important your job is, but family comes first, my dear. You can't miss Favour's wedding. When it's your turn, they'll make the effort for you too. Please think about it."
Mirabel began pacing, her mind racing. She understood her family's obsession with weddings and how much they valued those who were married. Her single status was already a sore spot. She needed an excuse anything to get out of this obligation.
"Mummy," she began, "even if I wanted to come, I don't have the right clothes, and I can't just show up unprepared. It would be embarrassing."
"I knew you'd say that," Mrs. Ruth interrupted with a knowing tone. "That's why I've already taken care of everything. I booked your flight and sent your measurements to the tailor. She's sewn something beautiful for you, and I made sure it fits perfectly and I even sent her your latest picture."
Mirabel's jaw dropped. "Mummy, you should have asked me first! What if I were ill or had other plans? All your efforts could've gone to waste."
"Nothing about you is ever a waste," Mrs. Ruth replied, her voice firm yet loving. "You're my daughter. I'd give you the whole world if I could."
Mirabel sighed, exasperated. "Wow, you really thought this through," she said, still trying to wrap her head around it. "Fine, but what time is my flight? And I'm not bringing any luggage because I didn't plan for this."
"It's at 12 noon," Mrs. Ruth said, excitement returning to her voice. "And don't worry about luggage. I just want to see you."
Mirabel glanced at the clock. It was already 9:30 a.m. "Alright, Ma. Let me freshen up and take permission from work before heading to the airport."
"Be quick, my dear. I can't wait to see you. Love you, bye!" Mrs. Ruth exclaimed before hanging up.
Mirabel sighed as she rushed to the bathroom, her mind buzzing with thoughts. Despite her reluctance, she couldn't help but feel a tiny flicker of hope that this trip might bring her closer to her mother.
But by the time Mirabel arrived at the airport, she couldn't shake the strange feeling that something was off. The skies were unnaturally outcast, and the air felt heavy. She silently brushed it off as nerve and boarded the plan. Yet , as she settled into her seat, a woman across the aisle kept staring at her, her expression unreadable but unnerving. Mirabel just knew something was off but couldn't tell what it was.