Resurgence

4. Toll Point

“Truth is everyone is going to hurt you. You just gotta find the ones, worth suffering for.” – Bob Marley.

•••

“ …the colors—white and champagne should be dominant, I guess.” Her left brow rose to form an arch and she stroke her bare chin severally, before sparing Lani a glance. “Or what do you think?”

Lani agreed with a curt nod, after lifting her gaze up from the notepad wedged in her palms, from where she was scribbling essential details. A couple of minutes had passed since Tari and Dayo had departed to inspect the ongoing development of the foundational work. Tiolu and Lani had moved to occupy the table and chairs, which she had convened on with Tari earlier. Their discussion revolved strictly round business and the house refurbishing.

“Of course, I agree.” Lani added, with an enthusiastic smile. “I think those are the most sophisticated colors, anyway. It simply shines and dominates without trying too much.”

“I’m glad you agree,” Tiolu beamed in satisfaction. A small smirk formed on her glossy lips as her arms went akimbo. Lani had to admit, that the vision before her had quite the delectable taste—which didn’t apply to decoration alone, but also to fashion as judged by her outfit. Her skin texture was quite glib and delicate, void of scalds or serrated edges. In fact, the only mild dent of skin she had was a small scar on her forehead. Lani didn’t need an encyclopedia to arrive at the conclusion that Tiolu came from one of those homes where money was as abundant as water.

“I was thinking we could do both different styles,” Her contractor continued, and Lani leaned forward so that she could hear her words clearly. “It’d be a big-ass duplex, so of course it would have two of everything—oh well, asides from the bathroom and all. It’d definitely have that in excess. “So!—” she exclaimed, in a high-pitched tone and clasped her palms together. “—Say the living room for example, there would be of course two of them. So the one downstairs, where we would receive visitors could be the one with a mostly dominant vintage design with touches of modern.

“I don’t know if you get me, like in genetics for example where we have the dominant and recessive gene. But in this case one is dormant, and the other is shining through. Then the second living room on the first floor would be one to have the more modern than vintage theme. Oh, the picture I have in mind.” She heaved a sigh and turned to face Lani. Prior to this time, she had her back faced at Lani, her hands gesticulating about the air while she described what was supposedly the epitome of glory and elegance, seemingly already built in her mental wonderland. “I hope I’m not setting my expectations too high to the point where it is impossible to beat, and then I’d feel disappointed even after you do a fantastic job.”

Lani shook her head, albeit amused by Tiolu’s words. “No, I don’t think so. I mean for you to know what to expect, you must have looked at some pictures of modern lofts online, right?”

“Absolutely,” Tiolu nodded quite vigorously.

“Good then. Knowing it isn’t angels or spirits who achieved those designs, they can be structured to life—replicated and if not better. They are humans like us.” Lani assured her. “And I want to give you the assurance that we at Graffity have been trained and educated to break the boundaries of the stereotypical Nigerian home furnishing, and even attain those heights that foreigners are at. Have you seen the newly commissioned museum in Alausa?”

“Get out!” Tiolu shrieked, slapping both of her hands over her mouth as her eyes widened to the point where her eyeballs could freely roll out and fall. “You designed that!”

Lani was taken aback by this unexpected display of shock, her state of mind made obvious by the startled look on her face. “Um, well.” She started. “I was on the team. We all did it together. It’s our most publicized work, not necessarily our best. We put out such terrific designs all the time. I take it that you’ve seen it then?”