Taking Chances

Eight

It has been two weeks since I met Zhoya Meirres at the park.

I haven't stopped thinking about her since. It frustrates me to no end. I don't understand why I am still thinking of her even when the truth is out. I should be free now, but it seems I can't forget her.

It also doesn't help that today Mr Peterson and I are going to audit their books are the site.

I am nervous as fuck.

We reach the site and head for their offices.

We speak to the supervisor, check their books and head over to the head engineer's office.

Mr Peterson stays behind talking to the supervisor and asks me to go ahead and check the documents at the head engineer's office.

I am nervous. I wonder what she is thinking. She knows that today will be over here to check their books.

"Come in," her soft voice mutters.

I enter her office and she's sitting on her desk.

"Hi,"

"Hi,"

"Umm here are the documents and transaction books," she says showing them on her desk.

"Okay, thank you" I say.

I sit down and will myself to act normal. She drops a pen and some papers and makes an awkward apology... At least I am not the only one feeling nervous...

I check the books and ask some questions, she answers them and makes clarifications... She's really good at what she does... Everything is up to date here...

A knock is heard and she says come in. Mr Peterson enters. They shake hands and he tells her of recent developments.

"Is everything okay?" He asks me

"Yes sir, the books are up to date and their records are balanced as well." I tell him

"Okay good, our job here is done  then" he announces. They shake hands and we head out.

Before I close the door, I hear Zhoya calling my name...

"Yes," I turn back to look at her.

She takes out her wallet and take out a few notes and hands them to me, looking at the floor...

Is she trying to bribe me? So that I don't tell on her secret? But I told her I wouldn't tell anyone... She doesn't trust me I think to myself.

I look at her, she looks gorgeous. She's wearing a green shirt, black skinny jeans and back combat boots. Her hair- her signature messy ponytail.

"What is this money for?" I ask frowning

"It's the money I owe you." She responds

"What do you owe me" I ask confused

"For the other day... She scratches her neck... for the hotdog..."

"Oh..." I laugh and begin to feel silly...

"What did you think it was for...?" She asks amused.

"I thought you were bribing me..." I tell her

Realisation of what I mean hits her and she laughs... A sweet melodious laughter... It's my first time hearing her laugh... I could drown in it .... Get baptized in it...

I laugh as well...

"It's okay, no need to pay me..." I tell her

"Oh..." She seems disappointed

"You can always just buy me a hotdog as well," I say

She smiles and says okay.

"Bye" I tell her as I prepare to close the door

"Bye" she says back.

The entire way back to work. I can't stop thinking about her.

When the month ends. I go home and visit my parents.

Mother has prepared a feast and I eat my heart out. She knows I'm a foodie. We catch up and bond.

At around 10 pm we go to sleep. I go into my bedroom. Nothing has changed. my room is still the same, posters of Jamali. The first radio I bought, my pink bedding. In other words it feels like home and I am grateful.

On Saturday, at 5 am I am awake and I head to the farm. My dad joins me a few minutes later.

"Something's never change" he say shaking his head when he sees me.

I smile and we work together. At Six am. The rest of the workers join us, we greet each other and get to work.

At around 8 am mom calls dad's cellphone and we head over to the house for breakfast.

There's everything. Freshly baked croissants, muffins, break, eggs, mushrooms, coffee, juice, some cheese, fruits and yoghurt and we feast in while chatting and laughing.

He goes back to the farm and I stay behind with mom to help her prepare lunch. I take my bath and we start lunch. One thing my mother and I have in common.

I am chopping the vegetables when I feel her eyes on me.

"What ma?" I ask

"There is something different with you..."

"Oh... I wouldn't know because I don't see myself." I answer

"So there is nothing to tell?" She asks

"There is nothing ma" I answer

She smiles that quiet smile of hers and leaves it at that.

We continue cooking and chatting about other things.

On Sunday, we bake cake together and when I leave in the afternoon, my car is full of Tupperware containers with came, food, grapes and so many other food items... That's how you know I am from home. I am grateful. Not many people have a home. A warm home.

Might I confess that even being at home, Zhoya Meirres would still cross my mind...

What is it with me and that head  engineer...