“You said, and I’m going to quote you here, ‘I met his beautiful new fiancée recently and I was like, ah-hah! So that’s why you left. You wanted someone better. Someone lighter.’？” She looks up.
“Oh, did I?” I give a nervous chuckle. Then I peer at the clock behind me. How has only twenty minutes gone by?
“Okay, let’s leave that for another day,” Jacqui says finally. Thank God. “Now, going back to Femi, walk me through how you coped with the breakup. What thoughts were running through your head?”
“I guess I buried myself in work,” I admit, reflecting on my days at Godfrey. “I worked at an investment bank as an operations manager. Didn’t particularly like it.”
“What about your attitude toward love? What was it like then?”
I push out my lips. “Strangely, optimistic.” I tug the end of my sleeve. “I always told myself that I would find love in my own time. It was the mantra I used when people brought up my singleness. Like I said, I was convinced that my life was all going to plan.”
“Would you say it was your crutch?” Jacqui asks, and I let slip a quiet gasp. This was the same question I posed to Donovan when we talked about his reluctance to start dating.
“Yes,” I say eventually. “That’s right.”
Jacqui and I discuss practical ways that I can overcome my fear of being alone and boost my self-confidence. From meditation to words of affirmation. Hmm. Maybe I can write a few of these on my Post-it notes? We also discussed the importance of embracing singleness and taking time out to be at one with yourself—a task she set me for this week’s homework.
“So, Yinka”—Jacqui unwinds her shawl—“can you imagine that you’re lovable even if you’re single?”
I think of Aunty Blessing again. “Yes . . .” I clear my throat. “I think—I think I can.”
Pregnancy doesn’t stop ears from working
Monday, 17 May at 3.08 p.m.
From: Matthews, Terry
To: Yinka Oladeji
Subject: Interested in working at Comperial
Hi Yinka,
Thanks for sending your CV. It’s very impressive. I actually think you’d be great as a strategy project manager （see role description attached）。 Are you available to come to our offices next Tuesday at eleven?
Terry
I make a mental note to reply later. Therapy has got me in the talking mood, and there’s only one person I want to talk to right now.
“Hey.” Kemi answers the door in a flat tone and gives me the briefest hug. “How’s it going?” she says as she slumps back on the sofa.
“Just came from counseling.”
“Counseling?”
I gaze over at Chinedu, sleeping peacefully in his crib. I join Kemi on the sofa. “I need to talk to you about some stuff.”
I tell her about everything—well, not Marcus but everything else—including how my singleness has taken a toll on me over the last few months.
“Yinka! Why didn’t you tell me?” she cries.
“Because I’m supposed to be your older sister, the one that’s supposed to have her ish together. And you were pregnant,” I add.
She frowns. “Pregnancy doesn’t stop ears from working.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just . . .” I sigh. “Kemi, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I showed up here tipsy the other day. And for all the times I haven’t been there for you. You’re always making an effort to spend time with me. But I kept avoiding you . . . well, Mum.”
“Mum?” Kemi looks startled. Chinedu gurgles, and we freeze for a moment, then he settles. “So you weren’t avoiding me?”
“？’Course not,” I say as Chinedu quietly babbles to himself. “But these days you love to spend time with Mum. The only thing is, when I’m here, too, Mum always harps on about me being single. Then you apologize, thinking it’s your fault. That’s why I left the hospital without saying good-bye. My love life was put under the spotlight. Again.”
“Oh, Yinka. I’m so sorry—”
“But that’s the thing, Kemi. I don’t want you to be sorry. You’re happily married with a beautiful baby. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. The truth is, you feeling sorry makes me feel even worse about myself.”
Kemi opens her mouth—like she’s about to apologize—then closes it again.
“My issue is with Mum,” I carry on. “I’m sorry I allowed that to affect our relationship.” I’m not sure who reaches for whose hand first.
“You know”—Kemi licks her lips—“when we were younger, I envied the attention Mum gave you.”
I squeeze her hand and she places the other on top.
“You were the bright, clever one,” she goes on. “You earned Mum’s respect. She admired you. You got the grades, or rather, you got the grades in the subjects that mattered. So for years I fought for her attention. Why do you think I understand Yoruba and can make Nigerian food better than you?”
It’s my turn to stare at her, shocked.
She exhales. “Then when I got engaged, things changed. She was finally proud of me. Yinka, I spend time with Mum because, because . . . I’ve longed for her.”
“Oh, Kemi.” I pull her to me and rock her slightly. She clings to my shoulders. All this time I’ve thought I have no role as an older sister. And all this time she’s needed me.
“So it’s Mum’s fault,” I say. We laugh as we draw apart. “Now, how about that pampering session I promised you? I still have those foot scrubs.” I reach for my bag. “But please tell me you’ve clipped your toenails!”
Can we be normal again?
WEDNESDAY
I am worthy of love
I am who I say I am
“Drumroll, please.”
At Nana’s request, Aunty Blessing and I drum our hands against our knees. Nana leans over Aunty Blessing’s desk as she signs a few papers.
“That’s it. It’s done,” she says, straightening up, and Aunty Blessing and I break into applause. “I’m officially the company director of Nana Badu Limited.”
“So how do you feel?” says Aunty Blessing as I stare awestruck at her hair. For the first time in ages, she’s wearing it down and it’s way past her shoulders.
“Nervous but excited.” Nana lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh, and thank you, Aunty, for taking the time to run through it with me.” She bundles her paperwork into a folder then perches on the arm of my chair.
“So, not long to Rachel’s wedding.” Aunty Blessing sags back in her seat, and in my peripheral vision, I notice Nana glance down.
I know, I want to say. I also can’t believe it’s been weeks since I last spoke to Rachel and Ola. I do miss them.
“Yeah, not long now.” I feign excitement. Maybe I should call them? Talk it out, like I did with Kemi. Nana had reminded me that I could talk to Jacqui.
“Ooh, Terry,” Aunty Blessing says to my relief. “Has he got back to you?”
I nod. “On Monday. There’s this project management role he thinks I’ll be good for.”
“That’s fantastic,” she says, while Nana squeezes my shoulders.