His Only Wife

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His Only Wife Page 18

by Peace Adzo Medie


  “You’re having too much fun with this,” Eli said, mild irritation lacing his voice. He was drinking a cup of coffee in a gold-rimmed teacup that was too dainty for his hands. He turned and asked me if I had had breakfast and when I said no, told Mrs. Adams to make something for me. I left them outside talking business and went in to eat my almost-burnt toast with a light margarine spread. It was the only thing I could hold down in the mornings. The brothers left soon after, but not before Fred invited me to his house for a Christmas party next weekend.

  “Make sure you come with Eli,” he said as he slid into the leather seat of his Audi. Richard had already hugged me and driven out the gate. He appeared to be in a hurry.

  “Make sure you bring her,” he said to his brother who was standing behind me. I didn’t hear him respond. Maybe he nodded. I waved until Fred’s car was out of sight.

  “What are you . . .” I began but when I turned there was no one behind me. Eli had already gone indoors. I went up to my bedroom to take a shower and put something pretty on. I had to talk to him today, to make him understand what I had done, to get him to forgive me so that we could move on with our life. I didn’t plan to bring my child into an unhappy home. But Eli was nowhere to be found when I came out of the bathroom. One of the housekeepers was changing his bedsheets, and when I asked if she knew where he was she said he had gone to work.

  “Work?”

  “Yes, Madam.”

  “Oh yes, he told me he was going. I forgot,” I said to the girl who wore glasses so thick that I could not see her eyes. It was bad enough that they all knew we didn’t share a room; now they would know that he barely talked to me. I didn’t even want to imagine the gossip that they were sending back home. I went back to my bedroom and called Mawusi, who was cooking on the small balcony of her shared room in the residence hall at the university in Côte d’Ivoire.

  “You can’t let things continue like this. You have to get him into your room, into your bed.” I agreed with her; I remembered how our relationship had blossomed when he first began sleeping in the flat. I had to recreate that feeling of being a married couple.

  Mensah drove me to the mall that afternoon and I shopped for maternity clothes and items for the baby. Quite some time later, I left with several large shopping bags and boxes full of clothing, accessories, and equipment, including a baby monitor set and a thermometer. I planned to come back with Eli to choose a bedroom set. We could turn one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery. I bought far fewer things for myself because I figured that it didn’t make sense to spend a lot of money on clothes I would only wear for a few months. I settled into the backseat as Mensah loaded the bags and boxes into the trunk. My mother would collapse if she knew how much money I was spending. Eli was still giving me cash every month and most of it went into my bank account, which I had opened upon advice from Evelyn. I had sent a bit of money to my mother last week for the house. The contractors had completed most of the work and painting was the only major thing left to be done. She would be able to move out of Aunty’s house and into our own in the new year. When we last spoke I got the sense that she was eager to do so. “A servant cannot be free while living in his master’s house,” was what she had said, to my surprise, when I asked her why she was in a hurry to move into the house when it hadn’t been painted. My mother had always considered it an honor and blessing to be living in one of Aunty’s houses, but obviously this was no longer the case.

  I arrived home to find two children, about ten years old, waiting for me in the sitting room. It took me a minute to recognize them. They were Uncle Pious’s twins, Ata and Atafe, by his second wife. Mrs. Adams was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching as I gave each of them a cup of apple juice from the fridge.

  “A driver brought them, with their suitcase,” she told me as the children went outside to explore the backyard.

  “A driver? Suitcase?”

  “Yes. It’s in the downstairs bedroom.”

  I went into the bedroom and let out a small scream when I opened the bulging suitcase; it even held the children’s school uniform! I called Mawusi to ask if she knew what was happening, but her father hadn’t told her that he was sending the twins to Accra. I called them indoors and sat them around the table in the kitchen.

  “Why did you bring your uniforms?”

  “Papa said we will go to school here.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes.”

  I sent them back outside with a warning to stay away from the pool and called my uncle.

  “Afi, have your brother and sister arrived?” were his first words.

  “You didn’t tell me you were sending them here, and to go to school.”

  “Yes, because if I had told you, you would have said no. They will help you around the house, especially in your condition.”

  “What condition?”

  “Am I not your father, don’t I know everything?”

  “Tɔgã, please, I live in my husband’s house. I can’t just bring people to live here without telling him.”

  “Is it your brother and sister that you are calling ‘people,’ as if they are strangers off the street?”

  “You know what I mean. I have to plan for these things. I have to talk to Eli first.”

  He laughed. “Afi, you’re like your mother. This is the same thing she used to do when my brother was alive. But you are not your mother; she’s an outsider. She could afford to say no because my children are not related to her by blood. But you cannot say no to your responsibilities. Why should your brother and sister be attending that government school when they have a big sister like you in Accra who can send them to an international school? Why should they be sleeping on a mat in my sitting room when you live in that big house with so many empty bedrooms? As soon as Mawusi finishes the university I will also send two to her. That is how it is done. It is your duty to care for them. If you don’t do it, who will?”

  At that moment, I hated my uncle more than I’d ever hated him in my life. What was I going to tell Eli? I set up a TV in the guestroom for the children and sent them in there after they had dinner and their bath. Eli was still not home when I went to bed. He was up and in the sitting room when I went downstairs the next morning. So were the children. He was listening to Ata, the boy, speak when I walked in.

  “Good morning, Sister Afi,” the children chorused.

  “Good morning, how are you?”

  “We are fine,” they said, beaming. They were obviously happy to be in our house.

  I sent them to the kitchen for breakfast and sat opposite Eli.

  “What are they doing here?” he asked me. At least he didn’t seem angry.

  I explained what had happened. I didn’t want my uncle to look bad, but I wasn’t going to lie and say he had told me beforehand, especially when Eli and I were on such shaky ground.

  “But is that how you send children to live with someone?”

  “That’s what I told him. And they are small, it’s not like they can take care of themselves.”

  “That’s not even the point. We have people here who can take care of them, but I don’t like your uncle’s behavior. My mother has already complained about him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t just foist your children on people like this. Send them back. Today.”

  “What will I tell him?”

  “Tell him your husband said he will not agree for them to stay because he wasn’t first consulted. He needs to know that I’m very unhappy with what he’s done. Allowing them to stay would be setting a very bad precedent. I’m not going to have people dictating how I live in my own house. I will not be disrespected like this. Get them ready so that Mensah can take them back. I will give him some money to give to your uncle.”

  “Okay.”

  To be honest, I was relieved. I had considered the possibility that Eli would allow them to stay. He was very kind so it was in the realm of possibility. But I was happy that he didn’t yiel
d because I didn’t want that burden now, not when I was expecting a child and my marriage was balancing precariously on one leg. They could come back when I was more settled, even if only for the holidays. I told them this as they ate breakfast. Atafe began to sob and her brother refused to continue eating. They didn’t want to go back to their father, they told me; they wanted to stay with me. Eli entered the kitchen and they became quiet. He sat at the table and told Atafe to stop crying.

  “Why don’t you want to go back?” he asked them.

  They looked to me, unsure if they could speak to an adult, especially one who lived in this big house in Accra. I don’t think anyone had ever bothered to ask them what they wanted before.

  “Tell him,” I encouraged Atafe.

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand, smearing snot and tears everywhere. Eli handed her a napkin to clean her hand and face. Then, she told us in a tiny voice that she didn’t want to go back because her father often refused to pay her school fees and then she was embarrassed when she and her brother were kicked out of school by the headmaster in front of the other children.

  “And he doesn’t buy us books, and our uniforms are torn,” her brother added.

  “And he likes to shout at us and knock our heads,” she continued. Now the complaints were rolling off their tongue and Atafe’s voice was no longer tiny.

  “And he eats all the meat when our mother cooks,” Ata said, while his sister nodded so hard I thought her head would detach from her neck.

  “Even the fish, Uncle, he eats the fish. We only get akple and dry soup, no meat!” Atafe added.

  “And he doesn’t give our mother money to cook,” her brother continued.

  “Okay, I will see what I can do,” Eli said, cutting in before they could extend the list of complaints. “But you have to go home. I will make sure that you’re not sacked from school and that you always get meat. And you can come and visit during the school holidays.”

  Their faces lit up and I could hear their cheery goodbyes even after the car was out of sight. I had sent them off with a bag of sweets. Eli had given an envelope of money to Mensah. “Give it to the mother, make sure their father doesn’t see it,” he warned the driver. “There’s enough there for her to expand her trading,” he told me as we walked inside on that Sunday. I thanked him with tears in my eyes. How many husbands would have done what he did? He went out soon after and I went back to bed.

  A phone call from Evelyn woke me up from my nap. We hadn’t spoken since I had returned to Accra. The last time I had heard from her, she sent me a picture from Dubai where she was on vacation with some of her girlfriends. It was a picture of her atop a camel, on a sand dune; she was on a desert safari.

  “Why didn’t you go with Richard?” I asked, happy to be talking to her again.

  “I don’t need Richard to have fun. Besides, I don’t think he could have come anyway, not with this whole Muna, Eli, and you thing.”

  “You’ve heard?”

  “Of course, I’ve heard. Richard was here all of yesterday. I had to kick him out today so that my vagina could get some rest.”

  “Ah, Evelyn, don’t say such things,” I said. Despite the many hours we spent talking, I was still not used to her openness. Mawusi would never say something like that.

  “Why? It’s the truth. My vagina is not made of iron.”

  “Yoo, it’s okay; just tell me what Richard told you.”

  “You are the one who should be telling me what’s going on. You’re at the center of everything.”

  I told her about Ho, my talk with Aunty, and Eli coming to pick me up.

  “Congratulations; I heard you made the old witch mad. Richard says that no one has stood up to her the way you did. Definitely not him or his brothers.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Have I not already told you about that woman? I heard that when she realized you weren’t joking, that you weren’t going to move back into the flat, she called a family meeting with everyone, including the old uncles, and demanded that Eli take you to his house. I hear she told him that if he didn’t do as she asked, he was forbidden to come to her funeral.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, that’s how far it went; he had no choice. The entire family was on his neck. Even his blind uncle who lives in Anfoega. They were all there. And it wasn’t an empty threat; you know she has a serious heart condition.”

  “Eli has mentioned it.”

  “Ahn hahn.”

  “So that’s why he came for me? Why he’s so angry?”

  “Of course. You really upset his mother and almost ruined their relationship. And you messed things up between him and Muna. I mean, he had to move her out of the house.”

  I inhaled sharply when I heard her name. “Where is she now?”

  “Who?”

  “That woman?”

  “She’s in one of their other houses, you know they own houses all around Accra.”

  “So he’s still with her, still keeping her in his house?” I felt tears sting my eyes and my chest tighten.

  “Look, Afi, it doesn’t matter. Aren’t you the one living in his house?”

  “But what is the significance of being in this house when he has many houses around Accra and has put her up in another one? He couldn’t even move her into a flat?” I yelled into the phone, enraged.

  “Afi, calm down. The house you are in is Eli’s main house. That is where he keeps his clothes, that is where he has his home office, that is where he entertains his guests, that is where his mother will stay when she comes to visit. You are in his house, so forget about Muna and where she is.”

  “It was never about the house. What I wanted was for him to leave her. I just wanted him to be with me. Only me.” I was holding back tears.

  “I know, and this is the first step. Does he not come home at night? His mother warned him not to sleep anywhere else.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes, she laid down some serious rules, ehn. So it doesn’t matter where Muna is, you’re his wife and she isn’t.”

  “Please stop saying her name.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Anyway, you would think that Aunty would be grateful for what I’ve done; if it wasn’t for me, that woman would still be here. But she’s so cold when I call to greet her.”

  “She’s happy that the woman is gone, but she’s angry that you disobeyed her. The fact that you didn’t follow her plan is what is making her behave like that. She wants you to be like a sheep, following her blindly and not putting up any resistance. I know I told you not to leave the flat but I like what you achieved. You showed them that you’re not some little girl they can just push around. Now let’s see what Eli will do.”

  He came home around midnight. I had turned off most of the lights and dozed off while seated upright on the couch; I was uncomfortable lying in it and putting my feet on the cushions. In fact, I felt uncomfortable doing so many things in the house, as if I was a visitor. Eli had on a pair of blue shorts, a white Lacoste T-shirt, and black leather sandals. I don’t think he was coming from the office. He was surprised to see me in the dimly lit room and turned on the lamp closest to him.

  I glared at the lamp and the crystals that fringed it. “Who decorated this room, this house?” I snapped.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I said who did all of this?” I waved a hand around the room.

  “That is none of your business.”

  “None of my business? Is this not my house?”

  “Look, I don’t have time for your irrational babbling. I already told you this morning that I will not be disrespected in my own house. Don’t think you can talk to me this way just because I brought you here.” He practically growled at me. I smelled alcohol on his breath.

  “It is our house, our home, our son’s home. It’s not just yours and definitely does not belong to her. This is not her house and I shouldn’t have to live with her pretentious furniture and these ugly
paintings all over the place.”

  “You know your problem? You’ve grown wings. You must be insane if you think I’m going to redecorate this house because of you.”

  “Why, you want to keep it like this for when she comes back?”

  “It’s none of your business what I plan to do with my house.”

  “So you are keeping it intact for her? I know you’re still seeing her. Isn’t that where you go every night? Isn’t that where you’re coming from?”

  “I don’t care what you know; I owe you nothing more. You wanted to live in this house and I brought you in. You could have been patient like I told you to, but you refused.”

  “Patient? How long was I supposed to be patient, and what would have changed if I had been more patient? Would you have sacked her from here?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Exactly, you were never going to ask her to leave this house, you were going to keep me in that flat forever.”

  “Well, now you’re in the house so shut up and enjoy it.”

  I didn’t bother making him breakfast on Monday. I could barely get myself out of bed and into the bathroom to throw up. Mensah was almost an hour late to pick me up for work. He had developed an attitude since we returned from Ho. Now he no longer offered to help me with my bag when I came out of the house in the morning and had the audacity to change the car radio station while I was listening to the news. He would turn down the temperature when I complained about being too cold and turn off the air conditioner and roll down the windows when I said it was hot. I had given him a strong warning on Friday when he answered the phone while driving and I guess this was his retaliation. I left school early that day and made him take me to a driving school a few minutes away from the house, where I registered to begin taking driving lessons the next day. I had spoken with Sarah and she agreed to let me out an hour early each day for the lessons. On Tuesday, I asked Mensah to drop me off at the driving school after work, instead of the house. I did the same on Wednesday and Thursday. I was surprised to find Eli working on his laptop in the dining room on Friday morning. He should have been on his way to the office.

 

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