by Maya Rossi
“Well we have started, we’ll use the money to do our roads and fight this water problem. The government won’t help us.”
After she left, I replaced the money in our tin and headed for the kitchen. I fingered a log of firewood and glanced around the kitchen. To think I used to hate this house and the village. I had just put water to boil when Merrick entered, yawning widely. I caught his eye and blushed.
He stopped mid-yawn, bent over and chuckled. The heat of my glare burned hotter than the flames.
“What’s so funny?”
“Where’s the seductress of last night?”
I threw a log in retaliation, which he caught easily. He growled, “Come here. I want you to feel it. Even if it’s for this morning, help me. Help me…”
It took a full two minutes for the familiarity of the words to hit. When it did, my eyes widened. He smirked. And I went at him, playfully hitting every part of his body I could reach.
“You think you’re so clever.”
“No,” he said solemnly, “I think you’re wonderful.” We ended up flat on the kitchen floor with Merrick under me. As I pressed my burning face into his neck, he pulled a strand of my hair. “What were you mooning about just now?”
Quickly, I recapped Ma Ebube’s visit and our gossip. “Our community, really? Is that how people go into politics? One minute I hated this place and now, I’m advocating for change.”
He went quiet, playing with my hair while a smile twitched at his lips.
“What?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You’ll be good at it?”
“Politician?”
“Politicking,” he corrected.
I tried to rise. “Merrick, I’m just learning how to read properly!”
“And you’ve been making mad progress.”
“Oh,” I poked at his shoulder, “we haven’t been talking. How will you know that?”
“I called the principal,” he admitted. “I also heard about… the difficulties at--”
“I’m fine, really.”
I imagined it’s how our honeymoon would have been-- if it ever occurred. But the worst was yet to come.
We enjoyed three days of bliss. No farm work, no market. Nothing. For the first time in my life, I was lazy. We just lolled around in bed, made love and read. More like stumbled over reading. But it was fun.
The third day was a Saturday, so we enjoyed a quiet afternoon. Merrick read Michael Crichton’s Congo to me. Even if I didn’t understand most of the words, I loved scientific novels.
He struggled to pronounce one of those science words. I waited, patient and sure he would get it eventually.
He only got more frustrated. “So stupid, stupid,” he muttered.
“That’s your father talking, that’s not you.”
He pressed a kiss to my mouth. “That’s the first time you won’t call him Oga.” His mouth trailed to my temple. “Thanks.”
Our bubble burst on Sunday. Madam called to make sure we were coming home. That afternoon I took care with the food, knowing it was the last time my efforts would be genuinely appreciated. The mood was somber, the silences longer. I diced the tomatoes with care, used seasoning sparingly, just the way Merrick liked it.
As I moved about in the kitchen, his gaze followed. My skin tingled all over under as his eyes grew heated. We had made love so many times already. The ache between my legs was pushing the line to uncomfortable.
When I grabbed a plate to serve him, Merrick touched my shoulder. “Wait. Place the pot near the fire to keep it warm.”
Then he cooked my favorite- rice and beans. As I watched him labor over the grinding stone-- because he refused to let me help-- somewhere in the coldest, starkest region of my heart, I believed. Maybe he truly loved me.
Later, we ate the food we cooked for each other. The beans were under cooked and the rice over cooked. But it didn’t matter.
Even as he savored every bite of my cooking, Merrick watched guiltily as I ate. “I will do better next time, I promise.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I assured him.
He clinked his spoon against his plate in irritation. “I hate when you say that, it matters.”
I chose not to remind him it really didn’t matter, because it was probably our last meal. Literally.
In the late afternoon, someone knocked on the gate. High-strung with nerves, I jumped to my feet and reached for his bag. With a snarl, he snatched it back.
“Don’t,” he clipped out.
“We need to get going and you better not react like this when Madam’s here.”
“It’s not them.”
I went to the window and peered through the boards. “Are you expecting anyone? You told them no sales again, right?”
He walked past without answering. He unlocked the gate and two boys in ripped jeans and badly stained t-shirts walked in. Curious, I sat on the stairs and watched them talk.
When the boys began prostrating flat on the ground, practically licking Merrick’s boots while he shifted uncomfortably, I understood.
“Oh, for God’s sake.” I ran my fingers through the hair I purposely mussed to look old. The artificial nails I loved were also gone.
The boys went to the shed with their bags. The moment Merrick came close enough, I rounded on him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not giving up. They’ll live here, watch the place and farm--”
“Oga will not allow this.”
He shrugged lightly and brushed past me. “I don’t care. They stay.”
I would have kept arguing, but a car honk pierced the late afternoon quiet. I went inside to take Merrick’s bag. He moved to open the gate but stopped at my glare. With the bag in hand, I ran to the gate.
As they drove in, I bent low in greeting, knowing Madam’s sharp eyes were on me. It brought memories of my first day with Madam when I was working to impress. I rushed to open the passenger door and Madam stepped out.
To my surprise, Blessing and then Benita stepped out too.
But Madam held my attention.
Her eagle eyes tracked my clothes-- it was the same one I wore when we last saw each other--my hair, and Merrick’s bag. Then she held out her arms. I ran into them, and she hugged me tight.
“Adam.”
I exhaled, breathing in the familiar smell of her perfume and the cushion of her breasts. “Welcome, ma.”
Somehow, they never discovered the boys.
It hurt listening to Oga berate, sneer at, and turn his nose up at everything Merrick built.
“You sell eggs? Like those fat women by the roadside?” He crowed, slapping his thigh in glee.
I followed at a respectable distance as Merrick took his family on a tour of his land. Silently, I thanked God that there had been no rain for days now. What if they had all traveled with us on the first day?
Merrick caught my eye then and winked. I almost smiled. As Madam’s head swiveled in my direction, I bent to fiddle with the bag.
As they turned to the birds, Benita kicked my shins. “Escort me to the car, these shoes are new.”
When I returned, it was in time to hear Oga say, “… you’ve always been stupid. God created you and made your skull empty, forgot to add a brain. This is all you used all that money for? Probably used the rest for tattoos and cigarettes, huh?”
“Or maybe it's that witch eyes, used it to spoil my life, think you'll succeed?”
Merrick’s face gave nothing away. But for Oga’s raised voice and the total silence from Madam and Blessing, it was like any other family outing.
Oga turned to the barn and Merrick pointed at some sacks stacked by the side. “That’s where I put the shit from the poultry.”
“Let’s see the house,” Oga ordered.
He saw the stairs and started laughing hysterically. I stared at him dispassionately, wishing he would just drop dead of a heart attack or something.
“Shhh,” Blessing stepped into my space. “You’ve forgotten
how to act like a maid.”
I froze in fear, but she only shook her head. “Smile, keep your eyes on the ground and your ears open.”
My mouth dropped open, and she cheekily snapped it closed with a finger on my lower jaw.
Their reaction to house was way worse. They stopped their tour in the hallway. Only Blessing got to the bedroom. Madam peered into the kitchen and jumped back. Merrick and Oga stood beneath the gap in the roof, staring up. He towered over his father, both in height and the set of their shoulders.
As if to make up for his deficiency, Oga continued to point out Merrick’s failings. I studied Merrick, his relaxed shoulders and lazy expression.
He was used to this, I realized.
Blessing stepped from the bedroom. I tried to read her face, but she had her game face on.
Madam removed her gele and ran a hand over her expertly made hair, the rings of her fingers glinting even in the waning daylight. “My own son, living like an animal.”
Her voice wobbled with emotion. She turned in place, shivering in revulsion. “Where did you put my Adam? Where did she sleep?”
Merrick and his father turned. Oga’s gaze fell on me with heightened awareness, like he just realized I existed. To my dismay, Merrick didn’t reply fast enough.
Madam’s gaze sharpened, her voice rose, “Where did Ada sleep?”
“Here,” Blessing spat. She pointed at a corner of the hallway. Hastily thrown in the corner was the mat I loved so much. The last time I saw it, it was neatly folded and arranged with the things Merrick bought for me.
I swallowed hard.
Madam’s relief was staggering. She actually smiled. “God, Merrick. In this-- this-- I hope snake or any animal didn’t bite you?”
“It’s getting late,” Oga cut in, “we have a long drive. Merrick, you still know how to drive, abi?”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter twenty-one
I hated parties.
And it had nothing to do with the work involved. As in, my second name was hard work. Literally.
The house buzzed with lights and colors. Guests in the most expensive clothes and jewelleries danced and ate and never stopped eating. I imagined myself running around legless because I really couldn’t feel my legs.
One week since we returned. One week of dodging pointed questions, suffering Benita’s harassment and Madam’s suspicious looks. And it ended with Merrick’s engagement party today.
I finally got a peep at Rosie. She looked like the girl Merrick should be with. She even came with a whole company attached to her ass. I never stood a chance.
The servers Madam hired were clumsy and inexperienced. To make up for their blunders, I urged them to go slow and tried to make up for their deficiencies. An hour into the party, I knew it was a mistake.
I had been trying so hard to prove to myself and to Madam I could be the perfect maid.
I couldn’t do it.
Watching Merrick leave for his date with Rosie on Friday was bad enough. She thanked me for opening and closing the gate after them. She thanked me. She was nice, really nice. When her family visited and her mother asked for a local herbal drink, she followed me into the kitchen. She apologized for the inconvenience. And she tipped me with two thousand naira.
I wasn’t even allowed to hate her properly.
Planting my feet on the ground, I used my leg and stomach muscles to pull on the big cooler cover. When it opened, the heavenly smell and heat of well-cooked jollof rice pushed into my nostrils.
One server blundered into my back, and suddenly I found myself on my hands and knees over the rice.
“For goodness’ sake!” I brushed her off, and her apologies as she tried to help me up. “Just--just serve drinks and leave me alone!”
Blessing appeared with a tray filled with pieces of broken glass. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. One of them broke a bottle of Fanta.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I cried out. “They are the same fools who couldn’t get the plastic ones.” I kicked at the cooler. “For God’s sake.”
She laughed. “I don’t God can help you with this. Maybe I can?”
Blessing had been incredibly kind. She gave me no attitude, helped with the house chores and controlled Benita to an extent.
I ran a hand over my uniform, struggling to bring my thundering heartbeat under control. “No, no, no. But thank you. Madam will--”
“You’re right, I forgot.” She checked her phone. “I have to go, got a date with my baby tomorrow. Rachel has a date--”
“You don’t have to explain.” I knew how much Blessing fought to spend time with her son. Oga would rather everyone forgot that boy existed. What mother would forsake her child? Not Blessing, apparently.
“Kiss Michael good night for me.” I forced a smile through my exhaustion.
Madam walked in with Ngozi Babalola. Both women wore huge smiles, their make ups and hair perfect. I opened one of the high shelves and drew the special glass plates out.
“Mom, I have to go,” Blessing said, giving Madam a quick hug.
“Oh, dear, say hi to Michael.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t forget to return before ten tin the morning. You know how your father feels--”
“Yes, yes. I will.”
Before Blessing reached the door. Mrs Ngozi hissed, loud and drawn out. “You spoil them. Merrick cannot appear in his own engagement party, and that one?” She wrinkled her nose like there was shit in the kitchen. “Ashawo,” she spat. “If my daughter comes to me with a bastard child… let me not just talk.”
Madam’s smile was brittle. “But you don’t have a daughter.”
She raised her glass in a mock toast and drank up. “Just the perfect son who would have been perfect for your prostitute daughter if she had kept her legs closed.”
She dropped the glass--part of a set close to Madam’s heart--on the ground. It shattered on impact, shard flying in a million directions. Madam looked from the open rice cooler to me.
“Blessing really fucked up.” She sighed. “Let me see if I can get Joy.”
“And Mary, please, ma,” I tacked on.
She gave me an odd look. “Uhuh.”
With the promise of efficient help, I faced my work with renewed vigor. I was also eager to see the girls. I missed them. My thoughts slid to Blessing. So she was promised to Ayo? Ayo Babalola was the most obnoxious and hated guy in the Estate, a secret no one admitted to given how powerful his parents were.
I still had nightmares from my ordeals with Ayo. An unwanted pregnancy wawas the perfect escape from such an arrangement.
“Canada girl,“ Joy teased.
I rushed Riggy first, flying into her arms and holding on tight.
“You might break me,” she joked.