Page 85 of Cursed Daughters
She offered the bottle of water she was holding. Ebun hesitated for just a moment before taking it. Mo entered the room and pulled the door closed, shutting Sango out in the process. She stepped over her cousin’s crossed legs and sat on the edge of the bath. She watched as Ebun rinsed her mouth. She could not help but examine her cousin for signs of any changes. The bubu had become Ebun’s outfit of choice, so it was hard to tell what might be going on under the roomy gown. Then Ebun looked at her. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a bottomless shimmering pool; reflecting all, revealing nothing. Before her cousin could speak, Mo broke the silence.
“I come in peace.”
“Do you?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” That drew a small smile from Ebun’s lips. “We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.”
They sat together in silence for a while, and then Ebun said, “This is random, but I feel as though chin chin would lift my whole mood right now.”
II
Mo pulled her thick hair into a bushy ponytail and then tied a bandana around her forehead. She slipped on leggings and a baggy tee and put her money into a small satchel. Then she left the house to buy the chin chin and other things they might need.
She bumped into a colleague of her mother’s at the supermarket entrance, and then into an old classmate near the fresh vegetables. She kept the conversations polite and brief. They asked the usual: Where was she working now? (Nowhere.) Who was she seeing? (No one.) Did she want to be hooked up with such-and-such person, from so-and-so place? (No.)
She was holding a basket of items—toilet roll, onions, chin chin, insecticide and antibacterial spray. When she looked up from selecting a deodorant, there was Golden Boy, staring right at her with his golden-coloured eyes. He could have walked straight out of a Hugo Boss ad, in his pink shirt and cream trousers, sunglasses balanced atop his head. She fingered the bandana. It wasn’t the look she would have chosen for seeing him again. All the times she had imagined this scenario, and she had imagined it several times over the past three years, she had been wearing something fitted, in a bold colour. Her hair was blowing in the wind, her skin was glowing. She certainly hadn’t been sporting an angry pimple in the middle of her forehead, or wearing a faded T-shirt.
She took a breath and tried to steady her nerves. As he walked towards her, she noted that amongst the contents of his basket was a pack of sanitary pads, a container of oatmeal and a carton of juice.The ring on his finger was gold, shiny and larger than she’d predicted. It didn’t suit him.
“Mo.” Her name was honey on his lips. He gave her a gentle smile and then a wave, even though they were now only five feet apart.
“Hey.”
“Long time.”
“Yup.”
“Fancy seeing you here.”
“Not so fancy. It’s a supermarket.”
He laughed, but she didn’t join him, and soon his laughter trailedoff.
“You look nice,” he said quietly. “How have you been?”
“Fantastic. Wonderful. Superb.”
“Right.”
“Have I overstated things?”
He smiled again, the corner of his lip twitching. “Maybe a little.”
“And you? How have you been? How’s married life treating you?” Did she spot a flicker of uncertainty? He had definitely frowned, but then he corrected his expression. She wondered what that meant, even as she reminded herself that it was none of her business.
“I’m good. Also superb.”
They stood there awkwardly. She readied herself to say bye, but she was finding it hard to move.
“I should probably go.”
“Yea…probably,” he replied.
“Okay.” She gave him a tight smile, then forced herself to turn away from him, heading to the till. But when she glanced behind her, he was following her. She stopped and turned back to him. “Are you lost?”
“A little, I think.”
“What are you looking for? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.”
