F.A.T-Chapter Seven

 

The Call

The next afternoon, I yawned and stretched into my pillow when my phone buzzed.

“Hey, new friend,” Tunde’s voice teased.

“Good morning,” I said groggily.

"It’s afternoon, actually.”

I glanced at the clock. 2:30 p.m. Oh no.

“You’re really enjoying this break,” he laughed.

“Guilty.”

“Good. Because I’m picking you up at 4:30. That gives you enough time to inform your mum.”

Mum was away on a trip. I smiled. “Alright, sure.”

After chores and a few playful protests from my younger sister, Chinaza, I finally slipped into my Ankara off-shoulder gown. Chinaza helped zip it up, standing on the bed, grumbling about catfish pepper soup as her “payment.” Funke texted back immediately: You better bring extra pomo. Love you.

When Tunde’s convertible pulled into the compound, Chinaza clung to me. “I want to come with you.”

“Aww, I’ll get you something,” he offered.

“No.” She folded her arms.

“C’mon,” Tunde pouted dramatically, making her giggle. Finally, she relented. “Okay. But take care of my sister!”

“With my life, Sergeant.” He saluted, making her laugh harder. Funke drove in just as we left.

            ------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Graveyard

“So… where are we heading?” I asked.

He only smirked and focused on the road.

I leaned back, soaking in the scenery; the trees dancing, the birds chirping, the wind humming its own melody. But slowly, the air shifted. The road grew darker. Silence replaced song. Pain and sorrow seemed to seep into the atmosphere.

“Just so you know,” I muttered, clutching my bag, “I have pepper spray.”

He chuckled, eyes still on the road. But I knew. Somehow, I knew. We were going to his mother’s grave.

When he parked, the silence was deafening. “Hope you don’t mind,” he said gently.

“I’m glad you brought me,” I whispered.

He led me by the hand through rows of graves until we stopped before a pink one.

“Mum loved pink,” he said, fighting a tear. “She always wanted her grave decorated this way. By God’s grace, we made it happen.”

I rubbed his back gently, eyes scanning the inscription: MRS. ABIMBOLA ADELAYO; Loving mother, daughter, and friend. Forever cherished.

“Your mum loved an audience,” I smiled.

He laughed through his tears. “She did.”

I bowed my head. “Can I pray?” He nodded.

“Lord, thank you for this amazing woman, whose legacy lives through her son. Keep strengthening him, and let his life shine even brighter in your will.”

Tunde pulled me into another hug. This one lingered. Too long. Too deep.

“I told you, Mum,” he murmured. “She’s something special.”

I froze. “She knows me?” “Of course. I told her about you.”

“Why?” “Because I like you,” he said simply. Then, with a half-smile, “To begin with.”

I stared at him. “To begin with?”

He sighed. “Fine. I love you. But if I’d said that straight away, it wouldn’t make sense. We need time, to know each other beyond just… this.”

I let his words settle, my heart racing. “And you wanted your mum to know me.”

He smiled mischievously. “She knew all my conquests.”

I smacked his arm. “Very funny.”

He laughed, plucking a hibiscus nearby. “Mum likes you.” We stood in silence for a while before heading back to the car.

“So, may I take you on a proper date?” he asked, glancing at me.

“Absolutely not.” He feigned shock.

“But…” I grinned, “you can take me for lunch.”

He laughed knowingly. “You’re not going to let me forget what I just said, are you?”

“Not at all,” I teased, and he drove off.

         --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sipped the last of my blueberry drink, savoring the faint tang before slipping my books into my bag. Funke was still lost in her endless chitchat with a group of girls at the café, her laughter ringing louder than the hum of conversation around us. My eyes drifted outside, and then I saw it. His car. Sleek. Familiar. The sight pulled a smile from me before I could stop it. Tunde.

My chest warmed at the thought. I was glad we had crossed paths beyond the surface level of greetings. Glad he had trusted me enough to take me to a place as sacred as his mother’s grave.

Funke’s voice jolted me back to reality. She linked her hand through mine as we stepped out together, heading towards his convertible. He stood beside it, waiting, the Lagos sun spilling a glow over his frame.

“You and Tunde are quite close,” Funke coughed deliberately, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

“Yea. Just like any close friend would be.”

“Yea, right,” she smirked, drawing out the words. Her tone held that teasing lilt that only best friends could get away with.

Before I could respond, we reached him. Funke wasted no time.

“Na wa, you and all this your fine-fine Ankara apparel, Oga,” she teased, her eyes shamelessly sweeping him up and down.

Tunde chuckled. “Thanks, Funke.”

“Good afternoon, Tunde,” I offered, but he cut me a playful wink. “Hy, Adaobi.”

That wink did things I refused to admit out loud. Funke caught it, of course, her eyes darting between us with all the subtlety of a traffic warden.

“It took you both five good solid years just to greet each other. Y’all better start making preparations and quit this pretense,” she announced, before sauntering into his car like she owned it.

Shock painted both our faces, but she was already settled in the passenger seat. “She’s right, you know,” Tunde said quietly, his gaze holding mine.

I tilted my head. “About what exactly?”

He chuckled, low and deep. “You haven’t done the proper thing.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but before I could question further, he simply chuckled again and we both slipped into the car.

        -------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, I folded my legs on my bed and closed my eyes. My prayer came out like a sigh.

“Daddy, I’m grateful… grateful for everything You’ve done and for all You’re yet to do. Thank You for not giving up on the world, for not judging us according to our sins. May Your name be lifted high. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

“Amen,” another voice chorused softly. My eyes flew open.

“Tunde?”

He was leaning against the doorway with that half-smile of his, and by the time I tapped the space beside me, he had already crossed the room to sit.

“How long were you standing there?” I asked.

“Long enough,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “Hope Funke didn’t tease you too much on the drive back.”

He chuckled. “Surprisingly, no. She was actually… quiet.”

I laughed. “That’s a miracle in itself.”

His gaze grew serious then. “So… I’ll be leaving.”

My smile faltered. “Okay, sure. I could use some rest anyway.”

He shook his head, holding my hands gently. “I don’t mean leaving your house. I mean leaving… here.”

The words lodged in my chest. “Why?”

“There are matters with my dad’s farm. I have to sort them out.”

I pulled back my hands, stunned. The possibility of not seeing him again so soon had never crossed my mind.

As if reading my silence, he added softly, “I’ll be back.”

I tried to smile. “C’mon, don’t say it like that.”

“I’ll miss you,” I admitted, the words slipping before I could hold them back.

“Yea. Me too.”

We hugged, long and quiet, until the evening breeze crept in through the window, nudging us apart. He left, and I cried myself to sleep. No one had warned me that growing close to someone could feel like this, like handing them the keys to your peace. My life was about to change, and I hadn’t been given the manual. Not by anyone. Not even by God.

      ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning came with chaos.

“What’s up, fellas!”

The shout rattled through the house like a cannon. Only one person could pull off that kind of entrance, Alfred.

“I’m back, people!”

Funke groaned beside me, tugging the covers over her head. I knew better. When Alfred decided to disturb, there was no silencing him. His footsteps thundered up the stairs, straight for my room.

I bolted the door and scrambled into decent clothes. Funke, however, was still in her undies.

“Funke!” I hissed. “You don’t want Alfred to see you like this. You’ll never recover.”

Her eyes flew open. She scrambled for clothes, muttering curses at me under her breath, but she obeyed.

I opened the door just as Alfred’s broad smile filled the frame. He was as handsome as ever, his polo shirt boldly declaring: Finally done with serious stuff, I’m coming for my babies.

I raised an eyebrow. “You had that made?”

“Yup. For you both, my loves,” he grinned shamelessly.

Funke rolled her eyes, swatting his hand away when he tried to hug her. “If I were really a tiger, you’d be ripped apart by now. Seven a.m., Alfred? On a free day? Seriously?”

He frowned sheepishly. “Okay, I’m sorry. I just… missed y’all too much.”

Her anger melted into laughter, and soon we were all hugging, laughing, teasing. That was Alfred, chaos wrapped in charm.

Downstairs, as we devoured Funke’s noodles and eggs, the conversation turned. Alfred asked about our lives, and of course, Funke couldn’t resist.

“The spice of Adaobi’s boring school life has been the tall, gallant Tunde,” she sang.

“Spill,” Alfred demanded, his grin stretching.

Funke spilled everything, from my first awkward interaction with Tunde, to the way we held hands crossing the highway, to the cemetery visit. By the time she was done, she looked more triumphant than a choir soloist hitting the final note.

“And let me just add,” she concluded dramatically, “there’s a likely chance Tunde has the hots for her.”

Alfred turned to me, curious. “You like him like that?”

I chuckled nervously, standing to gather the plates. “So… no one’s talking about church? Weren’t you going today?”

Smooth diversion. Conversation shifted, but I could feel Alfred’s gaze linger.

          ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, as Alfred was leaving, he tugged me aside. His fingers laced into mine, familiar, almost too familiar.

“I missed you a lot,” he said quietly. “Who’s Tunde to you?”

The weight of his stare, the unspoken confession in his tone, it was too much. I slipped my hand out of his and stepped away.

“Good night, Alfred. Send my regards to your parents.”

And before he could reply, I closed the door.

       -----------------------------------------------------------------

Whistling softly as I waited for the call to connect, I nearly lost my breath when I realized he had been watching me all along.

“You’re quite the whistler,” he grinned, flashing all thirty-two teeth.

My eyes widened. “How long have you been standing there?”

He tilted his head in mock wonder, smirk tugging at his lips. “Talk, na.”

“Only a few seconds,” I muttered.

“Hmm. So, how’s everything with the farm?” I asked, trying to shift the focus.

He adjusted himself, lowering the screen to reveal a calf nestled in his lap.

“You’re that good with animals?” I asked, leaning in, mesmerized by the tiny creature.

He shrugged casually. “To an extent.”

“Okay, Mr-I-am-humble,” I teased.

He chuckled, eyes gleaming. “So how are Funke and Alfred?”

“They’re fine. Alfred just got back last week.”

“How did he take the news about me?” His tone carried a playful edge.

I squinted. “Funke got to you, right?”

He nodded sheepishly. “Didn’t realize you and Alfred had a past.”

“That’s because you were never supposed to know, it isn’t your business,” I said flatly.

The response caught him off guard, but he quickly steadied himself. “I want it to be my business.” His voice softened.

“Then do the proper thing,” I challenged.

His lips curled slowly. “May I take you on a proper date when I get back?”

I burst into laughter, shaking my head. “And you’re asking me through Skype?”

He eyed me, feigning frustration. “Your own ehn, na wa o.”

I smirked. “So what have you been doing apart from tending your father’s farm? And how’s he doing?”

His hand stroked the calf affectionately. “He’s fine. Honestly, the business has been demanding, so I haven’t had time for much else.”

We paused, just staring at each other through the screen. A silence laced with unspoken words. And then, as though prompted by something greater than ourselves, we both said it at once: “I miss you.”

Our voices overlapped, followed by shy smiles.

“Promise me,” he said firmly, “I’ll take you on a proper date when I return.”

I smiled, heart pounding. “Promise.”

        -----------------------------------------------------------------

Chinaza’s shriek jolted me. She tugged at my arm, disrupting the movie I had been so invested in. Why didn’t Mum take her along on this trip? I thought with a sigh.

Memories surfaced; like the year Chinaza had snuck into Mum’s car, discovered only at the airport. I chuckled at the thought, then caught her giggling as I tickled her.

“What do you want, na?” I finally asked.

She grinned mischievously. “I love you, Big Sis.”

“I love you too,” I replied, pecking her cheek before heading to answer a knock at the door.

Instead of a face, I was greeted by two large polythene bags blocking the view.

“Lunch delivery!” a familiar voice declared.

Of course, Alfred.

“I brought food!” he announced.

Chinaza screamed in excitement.

“Did he say he brought food for you?” I teased, letting him in.

Her pout made me laugh so hard my stomach ached. Alfred, never missing a chance, stomped on my foot playfully.

“Alfred!” I yelped.

Chinaza erupted in laughter, instantly switching allegiance to him. “Yes, I’m on his side!” she declared proudly.

Typical Alfred, he had a way of making everyone adore him. He pecked Chinaza’s cheek and handed her a pack. She blushed, pecked him back, and skipped off happily.

The moment she disappeared, I kicked Alfred back with the same foot.

“Ouch! Heyyy!” He clutched at it dramatically.

“Serves you right,” I laughed, sticking out my tongue before darting away.

“I’ll get you for this, Ada!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I sang.

We settled on the couch with our food, anime playing in the background. Somewhere between laughter and noodles, my eyelids betrayed me, and I dozed off, on his chest.

When I awoke, startled, my hand pressed against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” I stretched.

“I’m not,” he whispered, brushing his hand against my cheek.

“Alfred, we—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted. “I know. Friends. I know the whole speech.”

I moved away, gathering the packs. “As long as you understand, that’s what matters.”

He smiled faintly. “I do.”

Before I could push further, a knock came at the door. I opened it and froze.

“Tunde?”

My heart leapt, my smile spreading instinctively. But then it faltered when Funke stepped into view, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I welcomed them in, but something inside me twisted. Alfred and Tunde shook hands, civil, to my surprise, before I asked sharply, “What’s going on?”

The air in the room thickened as Alfred and Tunde exchanged looks that were polite but heavy with unspoken tension. Funke’s sobs pierced the silence, her hands clutching mine.

“Ada,” Alfred’s voice was low, as though he had been reading my thoughts. “We’re here for both of you.”

My chest tightened. Both? My eyes darted between them.

“When did this happen?” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“A few weeks ago,” Funke admitted softly, “but we needed to be sure first before telling you.”

The words felt like sharp stones in my stomach. I had seen them weeks ago, laughing, talking, but none of this had been said. I wanted to be angry, to lash out at them for keeping me in the dark. But the truth was, I couldn’t. I was too numb.

Tunde’s fingers remained intertwined with mine. His eyes, usually playful, carried a depth I hadn’t seen before. And in that moment, I realized the truth that was impossible to outrun: Mum was never coming back.

I stood abruptly, the weight of it threatening to crush me. “I need some rest.”

They nodded, respecting the silence I needed. I rushed upstairs before the tears could claim me.