“Oh, sorry, Vanessa,” I say, remembering. “This is Alex.”
Alex smiles and stretches out a hand, and I try not to be petty and count how long they shake hands for.
“So, how do you guys know each other?” he asks as I wonder why he’s now neatening the lapel of his jacket.
“Yinka used to babysit me.” Vanessa giggles and swings her long blonde weave. “Obviously a long time ago.”
“Sorry, how old are you?” says Alex.
“Twenty-one,” she replies, and I can tell this takes him by surprise.
“Fresh out of uni,” I add for emphasis. “In fact, Vanessa, didn’t you just graduate last year?”
“I got a 2.1,” she chimes happily. “In Spanish and English Literature.”
“Nice,” Alex says. “Well done you.”
“Très bon.” I smile. Wait. That’s not Spanish.
Vanessa turns to me. “Such great news about your cousin Rachel getting married.”
I nod. “Yeah, it is.”
She giggles. “Well, guess who’s making her cake?”
She is so excited, I feign ignorance. “Er, I dunno. Who?”
“Me!” Vanessa actually squeals. “It will be my first wedding cake too. I’m well excited.”
I notice that Alex is about to say something. “Sorry, Vanessa, but is it okay if we catch up another time? Alex and I were actually on our way out. As you can see”—I gesture to the tables—“there’s hardly anywhere to sit.”
“Oh, there’s a couple of free seats on our table.” Vanessa’s words fly out like a sneeze.
“Sweet!” Alex nudges me. I grit my teeth and smile.
“How lucky, right?” Vanessa clutches her chest as she giggles. “Follow me.”
Then she turns around in what seems like slow motion.
Oh, bugger. I want to cry. Her bum is pure letter D.
I glance at Alex. His eyes have flickered down. But honestly, can I blame him? It’s like a solar eclipse. You can’t help but look.
I can stop him from looking at it any further, though. I hurry in front of him and nearly trip over his foot before hugging as close to Vanessa’s retreating D as I can. Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
We pass the queue for the buffet. It’s now about a mile long.
“Damn,” says Alex, and I mutter, “Well, we wouldn’t have had this at Chicken Cottage.”
Vanessa swivels around. “I know!” she says. “Aunty, why don’t you join the queue while Alex and I go and save our seats. Actually, give your jacket to Alex. We’ll use that to save your seat.”
I blink at her.
“Your jacket.” She tugs at her stylish leather one. “Give it to Alex.”
She might as well have said, Yinka, give him your bra. And with no logical reason to object, I do as I’m told.
I strip out of my jacket as Vanessa and Alex—and it feels like the whole restaurant—watch. Under the artificial lights my “go-to” cardigan looks creased and worn out. And because I bought it years ago, it’s no longer long enough to cover my entire backside. Dammit. I knew I should have worn my polka dot top on its own.
I watch them set off together.
Great. Now I’ve got competition. And not only from Vanessa. As they weave in between tables, women are popping up like meerkats. It’s like they’ve never seen a male of the species before.
Wrenching my eyes away, I go to join the queue then stop abruptly. Mum and Aunty Debbie are hurrying toward me. Man. I was hoping I wouldn’t bump into them.
“So how far, Yinka? How is it going?” Mum smiles at me as though to say, Has he declared that you’re his wife yet?
“Fine,” I breathe out.
“Have you made your intentions clear?” she says. “That you are looking to get married soon.”
“Mum, please. I just met him—”
“Your daddy and I got married within three months!”
“Okay, maybe we should give them a bit more time than a lunch date, hm, Tolu.” Aunty Debbie places a hand on Mum’s shoulder. “Things are done differently now. They have to get to know each other.”
Mum huffs. “All this talk-talking.” She kisses her teeth.
“So, Yinka,” Aunty Debbie turns to me. “How’s the new role treating you, hm?”
My stomach lurches.
“Um, fine,” I reply nervously, then without thinking, I blurt, “I like your hat.”
Aunty Debbie touches the rim. “Why, thank you,” she gushes. “I actually bought it many years ago. Stella McCartney, I think.”
I smile; I wouldn’t know.
“Anyway, we’re off now.” Aunty Debbie hugs me. “Nowhere to sit. Again.”
“Yinka, please,” Mum hisses into my ear. “Try to make more of an effort, ehn? Try to look smart. Not always jeans, jeans, every day. In our church, there are many, many single women. You don’t want Alex’s head to be turning anyhow.”
She gives my hand two ineffectual pats and casually strolls away.
* * *
—
Why haven’t Alex and Vanessa come back yet? I thought the plan was that they would save our seats, then come and join me in the line. I turn around again. I think the man behind me is starting to get pissed off. The restaurant somehow looks ten times busier than it did earlier, and I can’t spot where they are.
I reach the buffet station, and my heart sinks as I grab a plate. Then a thought comes to me. What if I serve a plate for Alex? That way, he won’t need to join the queue, and we can spend quality one-on-one time together while Vanessa goes to fetch hers? （Of course there’s no way I can manage a third plate.） I smile and spoon every food onto two plates, piling Alex’s especially high. Mum is always saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?
I reach the cutlery station where I grab two pairs of forks and knives along with a few napkins. I turn around, only to bump straight into someone. Oh, Lord, it’s Derek. Why did I agree to come to the place every single person I know has lunch on a Sunday?
“Yinka! So good to see you. Let me give you a hand with that.” He reaches for both of the plates.
“No! I’ve got it.” A bean sprout from one topples to the floor.
“Um, okay.” Derek eyes the plate then me again. “So, how’s it going?”
“Good, good. Actually, I need to head off. Nice seeing you—”
“Ooh, just one thing.” He catches up. “What are you doing Wednesday evening?”
“Why?” Some sweetcorn topples off the other plate. Shit, it’s getting heavy.
“Are you sure you don’t need a hand with that?”
I back away. “No, no. I’m fine. What’s happening this Wednesday?”
“All Welcome is having its first homeless outreach. Well, it’s not exactly ours. We’re partnering with this homeless charity, Sanctuary. They’ve been doing it for years.”
“Sanctuary? Oh my gosh. I used to volunteer with them.”
“Seriously?” Derek beams.
“Yeah.” I grin. “But this was yearsss ago.”