Chapter 3

He slouched to the refrigerator to see if there was anything to eat. But there wasn’t. Any snack would have been enough to ease the hunger but what a day. She didn’t even have any. He put a smile on his face and pretended he was fine; he went back to his seat with a cold bottle of water.

He crossed his leg and put it down as quickly as he had done. He moved his butt to the edge of the sofa with both hands on his lap as if he was observing something far and needed to get closer to see it clearly. Just for a moment, he reclined.

Now, he stood and changed his position. The other sofa was longer and he would relax more comfortably or even lay on it. He didn’t want to sleep, anyway. Lying on the couch would make him doze off in a twinkle of an eye and it hadn’t gotten to that.

He just needed some refreshment and all this discomfort would cease. He didn’t need rest, he had not done so much today. He just needed to eat.

“You can put on the TV to distract yourself. I know you must be very hungry now” Emelda said. He could barely hear her but he heard something about television. What was she even doing in the kitchen? What type of food was she cooking that one would die of hunger before it would be ready? He couldn’t wait for the delicacy.

“Your Majesty, I am too exhausted to engage my psychological energy” he murmured to himself. And Emelda, if she had heard him, would wonder what he meant. Was he saying that watching television needed some thinking and one could only think when one’s brain was functioning effectively? Was he saying that he was too hungry to engage his mind?

“Ben,” Emelda said, sweating. “You didn’t put on the television?”

“How can I put my faculties to work when my stomach is empty? It is the nature of our mind to be restive until a mass of edibles rest underneath” Ben said, seating up. He guessed the kitchen must be very stuffy as she was sweating profusely.

“Ben, all this big big grammar is because you are hungry, abi?” Emelda smiled.

“And to make it worse, my Princess, the fridge is as empty as my stomach…and as friendless as mosquitoes” Ben laughed in spite of himself.

“Mosquitoes don’t have friends?” Emelda chuckled.

“Do they?” he said amidst quick breath; he was still laughing, making Emelda see it funnier than it appeared.

“They are my friends,” Emelda said.

“Oh. I know. Don’t lock your windows at night, let’s see how they would spare your thick, young blood” he looked at Emelda who was now laughing hysterically, and said “I know they are your friends,” he added with a nod “Yes I do”.

“You are kidding me,” Emelda said, turning to get back to the kitchen.

“Allow your friends to visit you at night. They would take good care of you” Ben Said, “But your Majesty, not even a slice of bread or hamburger is there?”

“Stop calling me that,” she grinned.

“You are. Give honour to whom honour is due”

“I ran out of cash. I’ll restock. Very soon, Mr. Hamburger. You like better things”

“As if you don’t. Who doesn’t like better things?” he stood up to get the remote. “Let me not waste your time, Eme. Get back to your culinary exercise. I can’t wait to eat this…ah. I can perceive the aroma. By the time you would have finished, I might no longer be famished”

Emelda turned to the kitchen. But she caught the rhyme. By the time you would have finished, I might no longer be famished” She had always been this way, paying attention to details. Ben would say she was pernickety, choosing a stranger word - as always.

When she got to the kitchen, she started muttering to herself. Having fun with herself regarding Ben’s obvious mastery of words, or in some cases, his subtle art of playing with words, or rather obfuscating issues. Ben could be funny. He always preferred a bigger word. Why say famished when he would have used hungry? Why say engage his psychological energy when he would have used think?

Why say culinary exercise when he would have used cooking? All this was just funny to her. She had known Ben for a very long time. It was no longer just a game. It had become part of him so that he no longer did it deliberately but subconsciously.

“Too much reading of dictionary as if people won Nobel Prize speaking with bombast” Emelda snorted with laughter. “He is the only guy I know that intentionally reads his dictionary” Emelda shrugged. And imagined and talked to herself more. Ben could hear some sounds but would think she was on call.

She glanced at the standing mirror in her kitchen and preened herself a bit. She wondered why Ben had not found this beautiful body attractive or had never shown erotic interest in her since they became just friends for too long a time. She never thought it could be possible to maintain a male friend for so many years without turning it into romance.

Without the man first coming up with unusual advances as they normally did. Ben had become like a brother to her, giving her advice when asked, and offering to help her in moments of crisis. But he had never admired her physique sexually or maybe she had but rarely did; he had never been tempted to do something funny even when she provoked him with some touch.

She liked him that way anyway, being just a friend and learning from each other but of course, she had a problem with his frugality with compliments. He had hardly appreciated her beauty, her dress, her shape, her colour. He only knew how to joke a lot with other things… about education, science, and gymnastics. Hardly ever spoken about love, romance, or sex.

And she wondered if he didn’t like the subject or if he was just being prudish. Or maybe he liked them but had never come up with such a discussion before her. Or had he? She couldn’t remember. Henceforth, she would engage her directly to know his takes on some of these weightier matters of the heart.

She removed her apron when she was done with the meal, observing herself a little longer. She said to herself in front of the mirror that she needed to put in more effort in nutrition and diet and to shrug herself off meat pie and hamburger, Ben’s favorite.

The number of junk and soda drinks she had been consuming lately was now contributing to her not-so-good shape, she thought. But on second thought, she said she needn’t do all those exercises to get in better shape. She had seen some women suddenly get a better shape. Or rather got a bigger butt and boobs. But she didn’t encourage such surgery as the risk was too expensive for her to foot.

Besides, she wasn’t too vain, or unhopeful to consider it as the last resort. Those who did it, she didn’t have any problem with them provided they didn’t ask the public for money. Or didn’t ask her or anybody for money. But it could be foolish to weigh the consequence and the risk of death and still go ahead to do it, she believed.

“If one wants something so badly one must find a way”. She had heard it many times from some ladies who did plastic surgery. But she had always retorted: “A way that could cost lives is certainly not worth it”

She, however, after a few minutes in the kitchen as she danced with her musings had to rethink. She didn’t even know what she was thinking. Everything in life was a risk, she said. If everyone thought doing surgery was good for them, whether it was to get a better shape, or bigger boobs or butts, hips, or whatever, it was up to them.

She had a little longer neck than usual, she could see it in the mirror. It was bold. It was like putting on a magnifying glass and seeing everything differently and more clearly. She could see her neck staring her in the face. It was long, truly long.

But this made her distinct and even more attractive as pointed out by her ex. Even her friends would, at times, throw a friendly joke at her, addressing her with zebra. She could see her wavy black hair, too. She squinted her eyes that they looked cute though not as some folks had admired.

Oh. She couldn’t have forgotten. Somebody was waiting and dying to eat her food and she was wasting more time, unnecessarily preening herself. It was high time she removed the mirror from the kitchen, she thought.

Those in the bathroom and her closet should be more than enough. She couldn’t even recall how she came about such a design. And such a strange attitude of hers. She had never seen a mirror in anybody’s kitchen before or had she?

The fried rice had been served to Ben with some chicken around them but he didn’t look at them with excitement. It suddenly seemed the well-prepared food didn’t excite him any longer. His appetite now craved something sweeter, something tastier than just a meal.

He maintained very intense eye contact with her. He never found himself before in this mood with a woman of this kind, staring at her as if something beyond his powers had bewitched him…as if her beauty had suddenly beguiled him. He had lost control. And would lose it again and again if she kept on bending down, exposing her front boobs, and behaving as if she didn’t do anything wrong.

Her looks wrought great havoc in his body and hardly had she noticed. His body language had changed; he sometimes spluttered; and unlike Emelda, she hadn’t been observing. His eyes were full of joy and full of feelings way too heavy for words to describe.

She had put on everything set on the dining table and was whistling a song that Ben had never heard. A foreign song by the way. It sounded like Juice Newton’s Angel of the Morning. She liked both local and foreign songs that Ben had asked her where she belonged.

Just as immediately as she sat beside him, very close to him that her shoulder touched his, so that they could start eating, he grabbed her hand and pulled his head closer, and started kissing her. It was unexpected and too sudden for Emelda to defend. It was when the kissing lingered that Emelda suddenly realized herself and pulled off her lips.

“What are you doing?” Emelda said, looking at him in disbelief.

“I am sorry, Eme. I lost… ”

“Lost what? Do you realize what you just did?”

“Please, I didn’t know what came over me”

“You better be sorry,” she sighed.

“Eat your food, please” she pushed the tray forward.

“Not until you accept my apology”

“Ben, I am not angry with you. I just didn’t expect that from you”

“We all get carried away”

“You had better control yourself”

“Because I am not your boyfriend”

“You are like a brother to me, Ben. We have been close for more than seven years and this has never occurred”

“I was carried away,” Ben said and wanted to add but you provoked it.

“Can you eat your food now?” she attempted to smile but withdrew the look.

“You must show me through a sign”

“That…”

“That you have accepted my apology”

“I am not angry with you”

“Then give me back your alluring face” he raised his hand, demonstrating the picture of a beautiful face. “Can I see your face lit?”

He looked at Emelda more intently to elicit her response but she avoided eye contact.

“Now I can eat” he heaved a sigh of relief.

“Did you know what you looked like when you tightened your brow?”

“Don’t tell me, eat your food” Emelda smiled at him.

“I am not your boyfriend; don’t talk to me like that” he feigned seriousness.

Emelda understood his playing and tried to act along even though she didn’t like that he kept on bringing up boyfriend palaver. Ben had changed or was beginning to change, she couldn’t tell either. He could throw banters these days and talk less about science- a topic that bored her.

He was even moved by the provocative dress that he touched and kissed her. He had never done that. He had learned how to make a woman laugh; this was unlike him. But one thing had not changed, Emelda smiled at the thought, he had not stopped using big words in both his writing and speaking, and he still talked endlessly like a parrot.

‘I am not your girlfriend. I can talk to you anyhow I like” Emelda wished he stopped talking and eat his food. It was her habit not to talk while eating but she didn’t know how to politely tell him that talking while eating was a bad habit she despised like no other.

“My heart broke up in disarray seeing the expression on your face after the…”

“After you kissed me, isn’t it?” she cut him mid-sentence “Let me pretend I didn’t know what came over you”

“Hell was let loose on me,” he said “I have never seen your face like that, Eme”

“Eat your food”

“I have had enough,” he drank some water “You don’t need my compliment. How can I be repeating the same thing each time I eat your food”?

“You have started again”

“Emelda, I envy your boyfriend. Or rather your future husband”

“Why?”

“He would bite his finger each time he eats your food. Ah, your mother did a great job; you are a masterpiece”

“I am blushing. Thank you” Emelda said “But are you sure you are okay?”

“Do you need a soothsayer to tell you that I am full? Look at my stomach. I wouldn’t have eaten this much If it had been cooked by...”

“Your girlfriend,” Emelda said quickly before he could arrive. She placed her hand at her jaw and looked at him in the way that says I am enjoying your company.

“But I don’t have a girlfriend”

“Tell me you are joking”

“I am serious, Your Majesty”

“Who is Your Majesty?” Emelda said with vehemence but beneath her eyelashes, he saw her tenderness.

“And you are thirty-five or thereabout. Did you exit from a relationship recently or you had been alone for long now”?

“Come. I will tell you about that next time”

“That is you saying you want to leave now”

“I have a meeting with my staff tomorrow morning. I should be going.”

“All of a sudden” Emelda said. “I am not happy”

“I am sorry Your Majesty,” he put his palms together as some devotees did when praying and implored her.

He looked at his wristwatch and exclaimed “I didn’t know I have spent some time here…more than I ever thought. If that isn’t enough, anyway, I will come and live with you” he grinned as he opened the door while Emelda walked behind her thinking how much his logistics business had made him but he was still not well-off.