With Him I'm Okay

-9- Mister Not Too Nice

The month that followed was a busy one for Nate. He wanted to make sure, everything was settled for him to leave. I was actually glad he was happy. His happiness, was my happiness.
Nate would say to Gifty,

" When I get there, and things go well, I'll send you to the best school in London and you'll be the envy of all your friends"

Okay, so at least he had plans for us. My heart was at peace, but, not for long.

Three solid weeks, after Nate left in September, I hadn't heard from him. He had promised to call occasionally when we baided him goodbye at the airport.
I sent him messages every day, every time.

"Relax Christine, maybe the reception isn't good" Dorinda, one of the workers who had evolved into my friend, had said when I told them about the issue at hand.

"Ah! Fool, the reception is not good in London? Where did you hear such rubbish" Phati laughed

"So you mean the reception is always stable in London?" Dorinda pouted, thinking she knew better than Phati.

"Ah! Don't you have relatives in London?" Phati teased.

"I do..but..."

"Ladies ladies," I paused them, "this isn't about reception. He isn't picking my calls neither is he calling. The text messages are still unseen"

"Let me tell you something, see, shun him, his plane has definitely crashed. Your man didn't make it to London" Phati said and attended to her work; mopping.

"Ah!" Dorinda and I said in unison.

"My sister, start the burial, don't wait for the news" she added.

"Phati, you're a crazy woman" Dorinda pinched her arm.

"Ouch! At least, my own makes sense than yours" Phati laughed.

I shook my head in disappointment. I don't even know why I thought these two word have something wise to tell me. Hm. I ignored then and continued my cleaning.
At Mrs. Kinkpa's place, I think I made it blatant I was preoccupied and Mark just had to ask. I don't even know why he was always at his grandmother's house. Didn't he work?

"Why? What's wrong" he asked me at the kitchen.

"Have i said something is wrong?" I avoided his face.

"No, but, I know you"

'You know me huh?,' I laughed, ' You say you know me, always, as though we are friends, but, we aren't even close to that".

"So you don't see me as a friend?" He asked.

"No I don't "

"But what have I done to you?" He asked again.

"The more you talk to me, the more I despise you," now I looked him in the face, "you're not my friend, I don't need you to be prying, and stop being concerned. It just makes me hate you more"

At these words, Mark said nothing and just left.

The following day, while I was doing my usual wiping of the table in the living room, Mark entered with a bottle of wine and poured it all over the table I was wiping.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he smiled, "guess you have to clean it again."

"Huh?" I angrily got on my feet, "you did it intentionally, I'm not cleaning anythi..."

"Hey!", He shot back, which made me quiver, "you dare not raise your voice at me young woman. I literally own this house and I can get you fired, so if I were you, I'd hold my tongue and work".