SUNNY WEDNESDAYS: IVIE (XI)

 

“It is a blessing to have you join our Men’s Fellowship, sir. We are elated to have you here,” Minister Abraham said warmly. His firm voice carried a weight of sincerity, and the way he stood, back straight, shoulders squared, reflected a life of steady discipline. His low-cut hair was precise, and his well-cleaned, neatly shaven beards gave his face a defined, polished look that made him seem both approachable and commanding.

Osaze listened closely, nodding slightly as the words sank into him. A lot can change in a week, he thought. He had become a member, not just in name but in presence too, walking his way slowly but surely into consistency, a man now trying to keep his words and honor his steps.

Minister Abraham shook his hand heartily, the grip firm and brotherly, before offering Ivie a brief greeting in passing. Osaze's smile deepened as he caught the sweet lilt of her voice. Ivie stood a few feet away, her sunflower-colored flare pleated gown flowing softly around her, accentuating the deep, beautiful glow of her dark skin. The fabric swayed lightly with every movement she made, like petals dancing in a gentle breeze. Her hair was styled in simple, beautifully made cornrows, woven tightly to her scalp, a choice she favored these days for extra comfort as her belly grew.

"Is there something on my face?" she quizzed him, one brow raised, her tone teasing.

He smiled, his voice light. "No, not at all."

But he knew better. It wasn’t her face that drew his lingering gaze, it was the faint tiredness under her eyes, the subtle lines that betrayed her silent worries. Worries that circled around when their babies would finally decide to make their entrance into the world. They had battled more Braxton Hicks lately, and every time, Dr. Bridget would say the same soothing words, "They will come when they are ready. Be patient."

Ivie caught his lingering look and threw him a mock glare, half playful, half serious. "Quit staring." She was trying, really trying, to be present, just as Rita had advised her during one of their long phone calls. And true to expectation, Emmanuel had finally reached out, calling to plead on his cousin's behalf.

Ivie had smiled knowingly when her phone rang that night; she had been waiting for that call and was hardly surprised when it came.

"I expected this call sooner though," she had teased, her voice filled with light laughter as she settled into a more comfortable position on the sofa.

Emmanuel had been a good sport about it, sincere in his apology and full of promises that he would do all he could to ensure Osaze stayed on the right track, for her, and for the babies.

"Only on one condition will I consider it," she had bargained, her voice teasing but firm. He hadn’t even let her finish before jumping at it, "I will do it!"

She laughed again, the sound rich and hearty. "Come for Tuesday Bible Study two months in a row and I'll agree to be receptive to Osaze," she said, her voice steady, but her heart pounding quietly in her chest. Silence followed, a long, stretching pause that hung so heavily between them, she briefly pulled the phone from her ear to check if the call had disconnected.

The line was still active. He was still there, just silent.

If she didn’t know Emmanuel better, she might have thought he had hung up out of reluctance or offense. But she did know him, well enough to understand that his silence was never empty. Emmanuel wasn’t an unbeliever, yet he wasn’t a believer either.

For as long as Ivie had known him, he had lived on the fence, teetering between faith and doubt, brushing shoulders with the truth but never quite taking it fully to heart. And she, more than anyone, understood the priceless treasure hidden in salvation, the beauty he had yet to fully taste.

Still cradling the phone to her ear, she waited, giving him space to wrestle with the weight of her request. Then his voice came, low but determined, slicing through the silence like a promise made in earnest.

"I will do it. You have a deal."

Their conversation ended on a surprisingly warm note, with him inviting her to visit their Cakes and Coffee Restaurant, a gesture she found sweet and unexpected. "Earth to Ivie," Osaze's voice brought her back to the present, cutting into her thoughts as he opened the car door for her.

She playfully hissed, letting him guide her gently into the seat. He concentrated on the road as they drove, the early evening air weaving through the open windows. "So we are set for 30th of this month, right?" he asked, his eyes flickering between her and the road.

She nodded, her hand unconsciously resting on the swell of her belly. "Yes, Dr. Bridget said so." There was a brief silence. Osaze's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, and she noticed the way his jaw flexed as if he were swallowing something heavy.

"Can I..." he started, his voice tentative, barely above a whisper.

"I am craving Jollof Rice, oh sorry, continue what you were about to say," Ivie interjected brightly, her cravings always managing to slip into conversations uninvited.

He chuckled lightly, feeling the weight in his chest lift a little. Maybe it was better to stall, to leave the heavier conversations for later. "No, don't worry, let us get you Jollof Rice." She narrowed her eyes, seeing right through him. "I know you are stalling. Spill it out already."

He sighed softly, focusing ahead as he gently maneuvered the car through a bend. His voice came out low and careful, almost lost to the hum of the engine. "May I move in with you... so as to help with the birth of our babies?"

Ivie's appetite vanished as the full meaning of his words hit her. She blinked, her mind racing to absorb what Osaze had just uttered.