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This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad

Page 31

by Ngontang Mba, Danielle-Claude


  Mum steps in. “She looks so much like Lucia, but if she was Greg’s she would have smaller eyes. Those Riddell girls and their huge grey eyes!”

  “Still,” Aunt Liv adds and pours herself some tea. “His family could have taken care of her. That man, that Andrew, is just spending his wife’s money away. A man is supposed to take care of his family not the opposite.”

  “Money?” says the other cousin.

  “Oh yeah, gug-oeja’s family is really rich. They have trust funds and at thirty they are able to use them,” Aunt Liv explains.

  “Oh…” she says and looks at me.

  Oh…what? Unlike Andrew, I make my own money, thank you very much!

  “Can you believe that he wasn’t even at his own child’s birth?” Aunt Liv continues.

  “Aunt Liv…” I say.

  “He wasn’t?” the other cousin gasps, completely horrified.

  “No, Tammy. He was in England or something. He showed up a week later. A week!” Aunt Liv continues.

  “Ladies geuman![36]” mum says. She bends down closer. “It was Dublin and ten days. But what can you do? He doesn’t have the success my Greg has,” she says, patting my shoulder. “Can you go check on your sister? The other men are getting hungry.” Anything to get away from the gossiping around table that is this room.

  I find Kathie in her bedroom with Lulu and a sleeping Cassie.

  “Hey,” Lulu whispers.

  Kathie lazily stretches and yawns, showing off her pregnant belly even more.

  “We’re waiting for you to start serving brunch,” I tell Kathie. She’s lying down next to Cassie and must have been asleep until a few minutes ago.

  “Your nephew can’t stop kicking today,” she says and gets up very clumsily. My baby sister is having a baby; I’m still not used to that.

  “Please warm up my Japchae.[37] I’ll join you in a bit. I want to make sure she’s sleeping sleeping,” Lulu says.

  “Ten more weeks of winter,” Kathie says, while rubbing her belly and following me outside. “Michael will be back for the birth.” My unmarried baby sister is having a baby; I will never get used to that. “She’s so good with her,” she says, referring to Lulu and Cassie.

  “So I’ve noticed. I wonder how Noor would have been with her,” I say. She shrugs back. “Cassie is not easy,” I tell her to explain my comment. The Mpobo-Riddell women seem to have guardianship agreements just lying around in case someone needs to have one signed. Money…

  “Hmm…” she says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing really… You don’t seem too fond of her – Cassie,” she tells me.

  “I like the kid,” I interject and shrug. I like her like a cute guest in my house, home and life: a guest who sometimes oversteps her boundary, like sleeping with my fiancée more often than less.

  “But you don’t love her,” she says.

  “No, nan geunyeoleul salanghaji anhneun.[38] She wasn’t supposed to be a part of this, of us – Lulu and I.” I’ve been trying my best to be okay with it.

  “Things change,” Kathie says and shows me her round belly. “You have to adapt. Luce is crazy about that kid and Cassie is crazy about her.”

  “Don’t I know it!” We reach the large dining room and I help Kathie down next to Dad.

  “When are you picking a wedding date again?” she asks me.

  “On our two-year engagement anniversary in less than three weeks. We’re almost there,” I tell her with a bright smile.

  “Why not on Valentine’s Day next week?” she asks.

  “Because, Prego Brain, that’s what we decided two years ago!” Lulu says and sits down across me. “Are they done exchanging the latest gossip about your infamous gug-oeja yet?” she asks me half-teasing, half-serious.

  “I’m so sorry about that. It’s not right,” I say. My mum married a white Irish man; they should be over the whole ‘foreigner’ thing.

  “Please, I’m a child of many worlds. This doesn’t bother me,” she says with a reassuring smile.

  “I don’t deserve you yaeya,[39]” I tell her and kiss her hand from across the table.

  She smirks back. “Besides, it’s a thousand times better than what they’re calling your dad!” she laughs.

  “Excuse me?” I gasp.

  “Oopsie! Never mind.” She looks away. “Come to think of it, you haven’t been properly introduced to the Riddell clan yet,” she says looking back.

  “Yes I have!”

  “Believe me, you haven’t. Gug-oeja should be the least of your worries.” She winks and helps herself to a big serving of Dak Bulgogi.

  I’ve got to properly meet the Riddell clan in the most usual circumstances – a funeral.

  Our Valentine’s Day had already been ruined. Cassie was having a fever and no one but Lulu was able to calm her down. The poor little thing was all reddish, she couldn’t eat or sleep, and she wasn’t even babbling anymore. She was just silently weeping in her aunt’s arms. It broke my heart to see how fragile she was: nothing like the little spitfire who had been taking over our lives for the past year. Lulu had been sleeping in her room for the past two days or at least she had been trying to sleep.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” I whispered when I entered Cassie’s room.

  Lulu looked up and smiled. She was catching up on some work while she could. “Thank you, babe. I’m sorry we can’t do anything today. But I’ll make it up to you.”

  “How is she?” I looked at Cassie resting for the first time in days.

  “A bit better. Paddie told me that she would get better after a few days. The antibiotics are working.”

  I handed her her gift. I bought it weeks ago when we had planned to go away for the day.

  “Greg…” She opened the box and took out the flight tickets. “Glasgow? You big romantic!”

  “Same hotel, same everything,” I whispered back. Minus Marcus and his friends.

  “How could I say no to that?” she smiled. And then the phone rung and ended this perfect moment. “Take it outside,” she mimed.

  “Hello,” I said in the hallway.

  “Greg? Is Lucia there?” Was it Patrick Grant? On my phone?

  “Patrick, are you alright?” He sounded horrible. Things couldn’t possibly get any stranger, like a declaration of love on Valentine’s Day…

  “No, I’m not.”

  I chose not to imagine the worst and brought the phone back to Lulu. “Patrick,” I mimed.

  “My phone is off,” she said apologetically. “Paddie, BLG, thanks for checking up. Cassie is better today–” She almost dropped the phone. “Oh my god! No!” Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Patrick, I’m so sorry. What can I do? Tell me!” She started to cry effusively and left the bedroom. I found her in the living room crying her eyes out.

  “Lulu, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?”

  “Stanford, Patrick and Marcus’s dad, had a brain aneurysm this morning,” she said between sniffles.

  “Is he going to be alright?” I didn’t even know he had a condition.

  “They found him too late; he’s in a coma, Greg. He’s not going to make it, Greg!” she cried and fell into my arms. I knew how much she liked Stanford Grant or Best-Looking Grant as she called him.

  “Hey… Don’t get yourself so worked up, Lulu. There is nothing you can do from here,” I told her.

  “I know,” she said, wiping her tears. “Paddie and Doddy; I want to be there for them. I’m going to Manchester.”

  That was our Valentine’s Day – Lulu crying on the phone with Paddie and Cassie sick.

  Stanford Grant passed away three days later. By then Cassie was feeling much better and had her picture taken for her first passport.

  “I don’t understand why she can’t stay with her own mother,” I told Lulu while we were having lunch at Axelle’s. Noor and Andrew had landed in Toronto the day before and would be in town for a couple of weeks: long enough for us to go to Manchester and then Glasgow
.

  “They’re in the living room; you go ask them,” she said. She gave me a bottle. “Give this to Cassie while you’re in there, Jagiya.”

  It was up to me to restore Cassie to her parents, so to speak. She was on the floor with Fraser and back to her daredevil ways. She and the latest Anderson family addition had the same big grey eyes. His were full of innocence when hers were full of mischief. She smiled at him before taking his toy and crawled away for more privacy, leaving her chocked cousin behind.

  “Fraser, you have six months on her; fight back!”

  He gave an ‘I’m a love not a fighter’ look.

  “She does that?” Noor said looking at her daughter.

  “All the time! You should hang out with her for a few days and discover all her tricks,” I told her. I gave Cassie her bottle. “From your aunt.”

  “I’ll be too busy. Why don’t you guys bring a nanny with you?” she said. Cassie looked up at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Hi, Pooky! You’re so big now. Isn’t she Andrew?” she said and tried to lift her up. Big mistake! Cassie is not the touching type and Noor was basically a stranger to her. She wiggled her way out to land in my arms, someone she knew. At least she didn’t start a hissy fit.

  “She can’t even stay in my arms long enough for a hug; how would I look after her for two week? I’m not Houdini!”

  “She needs to get used to you,” Andrew said and lightly pitched his daughter cheek. She actually smiled at him and opened her arms to him. “She knows her daddy,” he said, taking her with him. Well, I’ll be damned!

  “She does take that foul temper of hers from you,” Lulu screamed from the kitchen.

  “You know what, Luce? She will stay with us. Won’t you, you little minx?” Andrew told his daughter and she laughed. She wasn’t immunized from his charms.

  “Yeah, it would be alright,” Noor said next to him.

  “You see?” I whispered in Lulu’s ear back in the kitchen. “It will just be the two of us.”

  She cleaned off her plate quietly and exchanged a knowing look with Axelle. What did I miss?

  We landed in Manchester a week later: two days before the funeral. We had to change our flights about six times. It went from a direct flight for three to Manchester, leaving from Toronto, five days ago to direct flights to London for six and another four tickets to Manchester the next day. We dropped Fraser and Cassie with Magda in London while Axelle, Noor, Lulu and I headed to Manchester. I offered to stay in London as well, but in the end and after three flight changes, I was part of the Mpobo-Riddell’s congregation. But I stayed away from the Grants until the funeral, watching Lulu leaving the hotel at dusk and only coming at dawn, completely exhausted. I haven’t seen much of Noor and Axelle either. The Mpobo-Riddell’s sisters are really different in England.

  The night before the funeral, most of the Riddell clan arrived and took over the hotel we were staying in: older and younger generations alike. Twins Teddy and Tara Lee-Riddell were having dinner with me while Lulu was away. One of them was getting married in nine weeks; I wasn’t sure anymore which one it was.

  “How is it that Lulu has Korean relatives and I only meet them now?” I asked them.

  “Tell me about it!” Teddy said with a smirk.

  “My mother would love you,” I told Teddy or Tara. I checked their fingers; the one with the very short hairstyle, Tara, was engaged.

  “My dad would love you, even if you’re half Irish,” Teddy laughed back. “Nobody is perfect!” They both looked like the beautiful ballet dancers they were.

  “You wouldn’t imagine what they call Lulu, Lucia!” I had been feeling terrible about this.

  “Gug-oeja: what else!” And we all laughed.

  The Riddell women were quite awesome. We chatted until the wee hours of the night. I wanted to make sure I saw Lulu before going to bed. She got back to the hotel just as I was going back upstairs and we met in the lobby.

  “Hey, I was chatting with the Lee sisters,” I said. She looked like she needed a hug and just came into my arms. “Long day?”

  “Yeah… Teddy and Tara… I should have set you up with one of them back in the day,” I heard her mumble.

  “Let’s go to bed,” I said to shut her up.

  “Thanks for being here, Greg.”

  “Anytime, Lulu.”

  On the day of the funeral, I left with the rest of Riddell congregation, all twenty to thirty of them.

  “Why are we so many?” I asked Shirley Riddell-Lee, Lulu’s aunt. The Riddell resemblance was uncanny. You couldn’t miss a Riddell in a crowd.

  “The Millers, Doddy’s family, we go way back; I’m talking at least four generations,” she whispered as we were sitting in the church. Lulu, Axelle and Noor were sitting not far from Patrick’s family. Patrick, Marcus and their mother were at the front. Their heads were bent down; they were crying. So were Lulu, Axelle and Noor.

  “This is bringing up so many bad memories for the girls,” Shirley said.

  The ceremony was short but very moving. Patrick gave the eulogy when Marcus was so quiet and looked so sad that for the first time since I had met him I genuinely felt sorry for him. I couldn’t even imagine what hell he was going through, but Lulu and her sisters could.

  We were all slowly walking outside the church following the coffin, the sisters arm-in-arm with Doddy while Marcus and Patrick were carrying their dad to his final resting place. I decided to stay behind: too many raw emotions for the day. I wasn’t the only one; a slim older woman, elegantly dressed in black, her face partially covered by a veil, was standing not far from me. She was staring at Lulu and her sisters slowly wiping her tears. A mistress? Was Stanford living a double life? It wasn’t his style. Her posture was what struck me at first; it was so familiar. The posture of a dancer… But not any dancer; Lulu stood like that, so did Noor and Axelle. They were standing like that not far from us. She lifted her veil and quickly put it back, but not fast enough. You couldn’t miss a Riddell in a crowd. I knew those large grey eyes; they were the same ones Lulu, Axelle and Noor had, the ones they got from their mother. I quickly walked toward the woman as she was starting to leave. “Mrs. Riddell?” I shouted behind, but she kept walking. “Are you Mrs. Eleanor Riddell-Mpobo?” I shouted again. This time she stopped and turned around.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Danielle-Claude Ngontang Mba is a Canadian writer from Gabonese origins. She grew up in France and Gabon before moving back to Canada in her late teen years. This Could have Been Our Song! is her first complete novel and is inspired by all the different cultures she had encountered in the past twenty years. She’s currently residing in London, UK writing the sequel “This Would Have Been Our Song! Catchy Tunes And Dancers” and working on other projects. Please visit her website www.danielle-claude.com.

  * * *

  [1] Happy Birthday

  [2] Thank you I’ve missed you.

  [3] He’s here

  [4] witch

  [5] Have a good time

  [6] Welcome

  [7] Honey

  [8] Scary

  [9] Darling

  [10] Sweet

  [11] It's nice to be here

  [12] I like your dad

  [13] Italian Escapade

  [14] City of love

  [15] City of fashion

  [16] Sweetheart

  [17] Beautiful

  [18] Excellent!

  [19] I love you

  [20] I really like you

  [21] honey

  [22] little sister

  [23] I didn't say anything

  [24] My love

  [25] Darling, My love

  [26] Bless you!

  [27] Trouble in paradise

  [28] Honey

  [29] Crazy time

  [30] When? I wasn’t me man!

  [31] What are you doing?

  [32] Honey, I love for who you are.

  [33] Sweetie

  [34] The outsider

  [35] Baby girl
<
br />   [36] Stop it!

  [37] Sweet Potato Noodles

  [38] I don’t love her

  [39] Sweetheart

 

 

 


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