I cross one leg over the other and turn to Ola, who now has a measuring tape around her waist. Like Nana, she doesn’t seem that excited about my news. Instead, she keeps pursing her lips and she barely looked at Alex’s Instagram before handing my phone back.
“Sooo . . .” I sway a little. “Any thoughts, Ola?”
“On what?” she says evenly.
“On what I just told you. Duh.”
She pauses. “Yinka, if you want my honest opinion, something seems . . . off.”
I’m so startled, I let out a laugh. “Sorry, what do you mean by off?”
“This . . . crush that you have on Alex. Not to be rude, yeah, but I think you’re wasting your time.”
“That was a bit harsh.”
I’m surprised to hear that remark from Rachel.
“Rach, I’m only looking out for my cousin,” Ola says. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”
I fold my arms. “You think he’s too good for me, don’t you?”
Ola hisses. “Now don’t you go putting words in my mouth. I just think you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
“Way ahead of myself? Ola, what are you talking about?”
She shrugs. “I think you’re reading into things, no offense. Like this date, for example. Is it really a date?”
“It’s on Valentine’s Day!” I protest.
“And you’re the one who has to cook?” Ola frowns. “Surely, he should be the one trying to impress you.”
I sigh. Clearly, she hasn’t been listening. Because if she had, she would have picked up that Alex and I banter about my cooking skills. I breathe in and out a few times. Remember what Rachel told you. She’s got her own insecurities that she’s dealing with right now.
“So how come he told his mum about me?” I say, unable to stop myself. “When I met her, she already knew my name.”
Nana has finished measuring Ola, and they both drag a chair to sit opposite me and Rachel.
Ola picks at the gel flakes along her sideburns. “But you said that just before you met her, Alex met you at the lobby to give back your jacket, right?”
I nod.
“So, did it not cross your mind that your name was only brought up to his mum when he was going to return your jacket?”
I glance down. I didn’t even think about that.
Ola laughs. “Oh, Yinka. See, this is what I mean. You’re reading into things. I just want you to be careful. What do you think, Nana? You’ve been awfully quiet.” She turns to her.
Nana looks at me, then back at Ola. Eventually, she says, “I think we should just wait and see how this all works out.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t tell you.” Ola gets out her phone, probably to go on Instagram.
I’ll prove you wrong, I want to say to Nana and Ola. Especially Ola.
“Oh, ignore these Debbie Downers.” Rachel flicks her wrist and I give her a grateful smile. “As for me”—she points to her chest—“I’m down for the romance. But are you really going to make Nigerian food?” She lets out a raven-like cackle. “Because the last thing you want is to send him to the toilet.”
I laugh nervously as I think back to the jollof rice I made yesterday. Let’s just say I sent myself to the toilet. Despite following a recipe that I’d found online, it came out all starchy and soft, and because I forgot to remove some of the seeds from the Scotch bonnets, my tongue is still paying the price. “Actually, I was wondering . . .” I turn cautiously to Nana. She was at her sister’s yesterday, and thankfully, didn’t see my disastrous attempt.
Nana stares at me for a second, then blinks. “You want me to cook?”
“Not cook. Just, you know, help a little.”
“I might be busy,” she says.
“You? On Valentine’s Day? Come on, Nana.” I laugh. “You and I both know that you’re free this Sunday. And Saturday. And didn’t you say that you’d cook for me as part of our deal for you to move in?”
Nana narrows her eyes a fraction. “Oh, I thought you wanted me to move in for another reason.”
I purse my lips. Okay. Let me not push it, in case she outs my redundancy.
Rachel looks perplexed. “You’re a good cook, so . . .” She swivels her eyes as she waits for Nana to answer.
“Because—” Nana lets out a quiet growl.
“Don’t forget, this is part of Yinka’s bridesmaid’s goal,” Rachel says while Ola continues to scroll through her phone. “You want Yinka to bring a plus one to my wedding, right?”
“All right. Fine.” Nana gives in with a huff. “I’ll help you. But just this once.”
I squeal, jump out of my seat and squeeze her from behind. “Thank you—ooh, and a tiny request,” I say after remembering something extremely important. “I know you Ghanaians make your jollof out of basmati rice, but tomorrow, can we, err, stick to long grain, please?”
A romantic
SATURDAY
ALEX
Hey
We still good for lunch tmrw?
I won’t judge if u decide to drop out lol
YINKA
What foolishness!
ò?dè?
ALEX
Ah! My girl be practicing Yoruba now!
Okay. I see you lol
And that wasn’t very nice, was it
YINKA
Pèlé
è? má bínù
ALEX
Lool
Apology accepted. You’re forgiven
But only if your cooking is 5 stars
“Err, Yinka? The last time I checked, this was your date, not mine. Quit faffing about,” says Nana.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I hover my phone over the steel pot. The smell of spice and peppers tickles the back of my throat. I take a few photos of Nana as she stirs the tomato puree and knob of butter into the frying diced onions. I’m very careful not to get her in the shot, just the wooden spatula. “It’s for my Insta Story. I need photographic evidence. You know, in case Alex tries to say that I didn’t make the jollof rice.”
Nana scoffs. “But you’re not helping me, are you?”
“Hey, that’s not fair! I chopped up the tomatoes and the peppers, didn’t I?”
Nana stops stirring. “You know I don’t have to do this, right?”
I put my phone away. “What do you want me to do next?”
“Pour in the mixture from the blender. Then wash some rice. Please.”
I grab the jug of blended tomatoes, red peppers, garlic and onions, and pour the red mixture into the sizzling pot.
“Thank you,” says Nana as I fetch a bag of long grain rice from the cupboard. I pour a generous amount into a pot, fill it with cold water, then roll up my sleeves. I wash the rice, rubbing the grains between my palms until the water turns cloudy.
After too long a moment passes, I say, “Nana, can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“I’m not coming for you, but I really want to know why you are so against my plan. I’m finally back on the dating scene. Surely, I need to be at my best.”
“But why do you need to change yourself?” she says. “Why do you think you’re not good enough for Alex the way you are? If you do get together, are you going to keep up this ‘new’ you?”