Those Awkward Moments (Episode 25)

I stood before the full length mirror in my room, staring contemplatively at my reflection as my fingers moved this way and that in a futile bid to fasten the burgundy-coloured tie around my neck. I was already dressed in a crisp striped shirt with snowy stiff collar tucked into light beige twill trousers. The jacket was lying on the bed, waiting to be pulled on as soon as I was done knotting this goddamn tie!

I blew out an exasperated breath as Mother walked into the bedroom. She took one look at me and chuckled while shaking her head. Clad in a knee-length black gown, with light makeup and her graying hair coiffed perfectly atop her head, she advanced toward me. Her hands came up to my neck while mine dropped defeated to my sides. And she began working on the knot.

“Thanks,” I said, with a smile forming on my face.

“No problem, dear,” she answered. “Besides, we both know that if I don’t do this, we’d be here all evening.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I muttered with light sarcasm.

She responded with a smile, one which faded away quickly as a small frown wedged itself on her brow. She eyed me with a very serious expression. “Emeka, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” I answered, slightly surprised by the question.

“Are you sure?” she said. “Because, if my instincts about you tonight are right – and they usually are – it feels as though you’d rather be anywhere but at this party.”

“Nah, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Okay, well, five days ago, I found out this guy I’ve been seeing, Kuddus, is Isaac’s cousin. You know, Isaac, the lying piece of shit who once nearly ruined my life and has come back to finish up from where he last stopped.

Of course, those words stayed in my head. To her, I just uttered a soft “I know”, and then held her hand which she had placed on my shoulder. My tie was done. “How about you, are you okay?”

“Ahan! What is this? The boomerang of questions?” she joked, a forced laugh coming right after.

I didn’t even smile. “Come on, you know what I’m talking about. How are you dealing with the whole…you know –”

“Divorce? You know you can say it – it’s not a cursed word, nwam.”

The gift I’d intended for my family, the one where my parents got back together, hadn’t worked. They’d talked, sure, but only to come to the mutual agreement to end their marriage.

My sisters and I had been told the bad news when we returned to my house that evening.

“Why?” I’d said in a wrathful tone, as we sat about the small parlour, the Achike family of six on the brink of disintegration. “At least you can tell us that, can’t you?” I looked from one parent to the other. “It is our right to know why you no longer want to stay together. We have played nice with your feelings and your determination to keep us in the dark long enough. We deserve to know why.”

Mother sighed. Father moved a bit on his seat.

“Mum? Dad?” Amaka urged, her tone matching mine in determination not to let them off the hook.

“Who had the affair?” Nkechi asked matter-of-factly.

Both our parents flinched. Then Father stared at his youngest daughter and said, “I did.”

I drew in a sharp breath. My sisters looked on, not saying a word, and clearly absorbing the news.

“Was it bad?” I asked. “Isn’t it something you two can work out? You’ve been together for thirty-two years!”

“Yes,” Mother said, turning her face to look at me, “and in those thirty-two years, there’s only so much cheating a woman can endure from her husband.”

Something dimmed inside me as I glanced at my father. “It wasn’t one time?”

Mother responded with a sardonic chuckle. “Your father loves his family, son. But he also loves giving in to his temptations, from the time we lived in Nigeria, all the way to the UK.” She gave a sad shake of her head.

Four expressions reflecting varying degrees of hurt and outrage were pinned on Father. The man released a breath, his shoulders shuddering with the exhalation, before saying to us, “I’m sorry.”

I reiterated those words now as I stood in my bedroom with my mother. “I’m sorry, mum.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“But you know he’s still going to remain a big part of your life whether you like it or not,” I said, looking pointedly at her softly protruding midsection.

“I do.”

“You could always lie and say it’s not his,” I said with a small grin. “I’ll back up whatever story you concoct.”

We burst out into laughter, before turning to the mirror to take one last look at our reflections.

“Okay, now that we’ve claimed our awards for hottest mother and son duo of the year,” Mother said with a smile, “can we please leave for the party?”

***

Throughout my six-month career as a junior songwriter at Highland Record Label, this was going to be my first official invite to one of its main events.

It was the New Year’s Eve Extravaganza.

As Mother and I moved with the throng of well-dressed guests of the party through the starry night, I could feel my heart beating at the prospect of all that could go right – or wrong – during this event.

Soon, we were walking into the venue of the party, one of the ground-floor halls, which had been transformed into a vast space of chandeliers, silken draperies and elegant place settings. There was a well-designed rostrum upraised at the forefront of the hall, and a great big clock was placed on the wall, right above a Christmas tree. That, I supposed, was going to time the countdown to the New Year.

“Oh wow,” Mother exclaimed softly. “Chukwuemeka, this is no small party oh.”

“I know, right?”

“What do you mean ‘I know, right’?” she rejoined. “You said it was going to be a small thing, and look how underdressed I am.”

I drew back from the woman on my side to eye her from head to toe. “Underdressed?” I chuckled. “Mum, you look way better than half the woman already in the room, and most of them are half your age.”

“Are you sure about that?” She darted a quick look about, raising a hand to pat her hair.

I groaned inwardly. What was a son to do with a mother who’d had a swap with the essence of a teenager?

Before could respond, I saw her walking toward us with a bodyguard trailing behind her.

“Hello!” she greeted with her hands stretched out, and a bright smile curving her lipsticked mouth.

Mother stiffened by my side, and a frown fleeted past her face.

“Oh my goodness, it’s been ages,” Maureen Bassey said as she came to stand before us. She and Mother exchanged air kisses, and she waved cheerily at me. “I did not know you had connections to Highland.”

“Well, I didn’t know that either, until I found out my very brilliant son works here,” Mother said, her own smile tight on her face.

“And my goodness” – Maureen gestured at her baby bump – “what are you, sixty, sixty-five? And still getting knocked-up like the biblical Hebrew women.”

Mother lifted a hand to gently pat her midriff. “Yes, it’s the one guarantee life has given some women and denied some others.”

I flinched inwardly. 0h snap! Mum, you total bitch!

Maureen Bassey’s struggle and failure to give her magnate husband a child had made tabloid news a couple of years ago. Speculation had run rampant at her inability to have a child; the one I’d found very titillating was the report that Chief Bassey’s ex wife, who the man had dropped for a much younger Maureen, put a hex on her.

To her credit, Maureen’s smile stayed in place and appeared unruffled by my mother’s barb. “Well, I’m glad for you. Your husband must be very ecstatic.”

“He is. And how is Ryan?”

“Oh he’s great, you know, busy flying around the world, taking care of business, the usual.” Maureen turned her smile to me. “And your son, wow.”

“Hello, Mrs. Bassey, I’m –”

“Kevin, I know,” she interrupted. “I know who you are. I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Who does?” I blurted out.

Maureen gave a gay laugh. “Anyone in Highland who doesn’t know the junior songwriter who spent less than two weeks writing almost all the tracks on superstar Demoniker’s album ought to be fired. Your work, even though I haven’t listened to it, is impressive, if my husband is to be believed. He raved about it.”

Was that before or after I blackmailed him for his cooperation? I wondered.

“Thank you ma,” I said, beaming.

“I should be thanking you,” she said, taking my hand in a handshake. “We need more people like you in Highland, people who are dedicated and loyal.” She stared with an infinitesimal intensity into my eyes, and I felt like she was trying to pass along a message to me.

From my blank expression however, I didn’t get it.

She returned her attention to Mother as she said, “Well, I have to leave now, have to mingle. Duty calls. Do enjoy the party.”

“We will,” Mother replied as Mrs. Bassey walked away to greet one of the board members of the company. She hissed right after.

“Jeez, mum, is that how much you dislike her?”

“She stole my friend’s husband,” Mother said. “I don’t dislike her. I loathe her. Now” – she glanced around – “can we get to our seat now?”

***

Once Mother and I had settled at our table, I decided to walk over to one of the open bars and order a glass of wine for my mother, since the waiters only seemed to be serving spirits.

“One glass of grape wine, and a glass of vodka on the side,” I ordered, as I rested my arm on the counter while going through my phone with its many missed calls from Kuddus.

I wasn’t picking his calls because I was mad at him. I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to speak to him yet until I’d reconciled myself with the fact that I was dating the relative to the man I loathed most in the whole world.

When I returned my attention from my phone to the party, I was startled to see three international acts walk into the room amidst a stir. Shontelle was in front, her long, straight auburn weave tumbling down the back of her mid-thigh length, silver dress. Zendaya Coleman looked very petite, with the explosion of curls on her head and the elegant hand tucked into the crook of Trey Songz’ arm. The male R&B crooner looked impossibly sexy in the jewel colours of his outfit.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, as I quickly lifted my phone to join a number of other people zooming in on the celebrities and taking snapshots.

“You can’t even act like you’ve seen a star before,” a familiar female voice said behind me with her familiar nastiness.

I rolled my eyes before turning to behold Ngozi in a slinky red number. She looked good, but I’d be damned before I’d tell her that.

“How e take concern you?” I retorted, following the remark with a hiss, as I watched the bartender place my drinks on the countertop. “Thanks jaré!”

“So are you ready?” Ngozi asked as I reached for the glasses.

“You mean, ready to break into Mrs. Bassey’s office and steal information that may or may not prove her involvement in something bad going on in Highland?”

“Yup, that’s pretty much it. Don’t wimp out on me, Kevin,” she began warningly.

“Do you always have to target my balls every time you open your mouth, Ngozi,” I said with an acid smile.

“It seems to be the only place on you I can aim in order to get your attention,” she returned. “Now, this is just a simple snatch and grab. It’s the only way for us to get Josh off the hook.  We owe him that much, don’t you think?”

“We wouldn’t have to if those goddamned policemen would just follow our leads.” I’d been able to talk to Detective Elohor following Ngozi’s insinuation that Maureen was the real culprit they should be investigating. The man had shut me down with a finality that ticked me off.

“Well, they are not going to. So it’s up to us,” Ngozi said. “I’ll alert you with a text when it’s safe for us to get on with it, okay?”

“Sure,” I replied, before walking away with my drinks.

Moments after I returned to my table, the music started to fade and the party guests began to clap as Maureen got on the stage. She basked in the applause for a short moment, before raising her hand to call for a cessation. The ovation gradually died down.

“I thank you all for showing up today,” our esteemed hostess enthused. “You’re all welcome to the fifth annual Highland New Year’s Eve Extravaganza!”

There was more applause following this.

Maureen continued, “You know, when my husband, who sadly couldn’t show up today, first told me to take over temporarily as CEO, I was shocked. Seriously, ‘Are you mad?’ were the first words to come out of my mouth. I mean, what does a former supermodel really know about running a company?”

The crowd laughed.

“But then he told me something, something I just couldn’t ignore. He said, ‘Honey, running a record label is a lot like modeling. We are the designers, the stars are the models, and the workers are the clothes.” She paused. “Now that I think about it, that was a pretty stupid analogy.”

Again, the crowd laughed. I did too.

“But one thing he said was the truth. The workers do matter a lot! You guys toil day and night, putting in your best for the beautiful stars we have on this label…”

***

Once Maureen was done with her speech, Mula Mike and his team of dancers took to the stage for a debut performance of his hit single, Like Me. It was a beautiful performance; even Mother who had no patience for rap music, kept nodding her head in tandem with the beat.

It wasn’t long before something else grabbed my attention. My gaze had been idling about the room, when I caught sight of Samuel, Tayo and Sly standing at the entrance. From the craning of their necks and their searching stares, it was evident they were looking for me, the guy who’d invited them to the party.

I got up from my seat and made my way to them.

“Hey!” Tayo drew me into a hug. “We’d just begun thinking we were at the wrong party.”

“Mehn!” Sly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he looked around the hall. “Kev, all this here is some next level shit!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Samuel replied with a flash of his smile in my direction.

“You guys are late,” I admonished lightly. “Come on, let me show you to our table.”

“Yeah of course,” Tayo said, before directing at Samuel, “Sam, what’s taking Jude so long?”

My eyes widened with stupefaction. “Wait, what?!”

“Tee, Sly,” Samuel interjected, “I see Kevin’s mother over there.” He pointed. “That must be our table. Why don’t y’all go join her, I just want to talk to Kevin for a bit.”

The other two nodded and walked off, while Samuel pulled me gently back out of the hall.

I jerked my hand out of his grasp once we had exited the hall. “Please tell me what Tayo just said is not what I’m thinking.”

“That depends. What are you thinking?” Samuel aimed for a jovial tone.

“You guys know someone else named Jude, right?” I flashed at him, ignoring his question.

“Kevin –”

“Oh my God, Samuel!” I raged. “You invited him? What the hell!” A strange mix of consternation and excitement surged through my mind.

“Look, I told him I was going, and he asked if he could come with. I didn’t feel good telling him no, especially since he’s been at home alone since he got out of the hospital. And you know he can only have so much Janet, so I thought –”

“So you just thought you could invite him without telling me first? Classic! Where is he now?”

Just as I said this, my gaze seemed to be pulled by a magnetic force to the figure approaching us. Jude looked spectacular in the white suit he was wearing, through which peeked a blue-and-white checkered shirt and red tie. In that moment, he looked to me like the man of the hour, and a renewed aching began throbbing away at my heart.

This was exactly what I didn’t want! I couldn’t pine over someone who didn’t even know what I meant to him anymore – I just couldn’t! Samuel, what have you done to me?!

“He went to the men’s room to –” Samuel stopped when he followed my smitten gaze to Jude, who had now come to stand with us.

“Hello Kevin,” he said, flashing what was the most beautiful smile in the world at me.

“Hey… Jude,” I greeted back, swallowing hard.

“Thanks for letting me crash your party,” he said.

I gave him a thin smile. “Not a problem.” There was a brief moment of awkwardness, one which I hastened to break by saying, “So, let’s get on to our table then.”

***

So far, the party was proving to be a huge success. Following Mike’s performance, Korede Bello had got up there to get everyone gyrating about to his hit single, Godwin. Then Trey Songz had lit up the stage and the crowd with his sensuous moves and honeyed voice. He performed a few numbers, before vacating the rostrum for a comedian who took exuberantly to rocking the guests to laughter with his brilliant punch lines and rib cracking anecdotes.

That was when I decided I had to use the convenience. I excused myself from the table and began winding my way through the room for the exit.

“Hey, Kevin!” A hand snatched at mine as I walked past a table.

The owner of the hand moved swiftly to his feet, and I found myself glowering at Isaac. Clearly, we were going to have that conversation, the one we hadn’t had on Christmas day, because I’d bolted from his house following the shocked moment when we knew Kuddus was another entity that connected us.

“See,” I found myself saying, surprising him, seeing as we both thought he’d be the one to get in the first word, “I didn’t know I was in your house, okay? I wouldn’t have gone there if I knew.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he replied with a wry smile. “And I guess you also didn’t know Kuddus is my cousin.”

“That’s correct.”

“If you’d known, would you have given him the time of day?”

“Fate didn’t afford me that choice, so I see no reason to talk about what I might or might not have done. And now, I have to go.”

The crowd roared with laughter at a delivery from the comedian. I turned to walk away from Isaac, but he snatched at my hand again.

“Oh, for heavenssakes,” I hissed with mounting irritation as I broke his hold again. Through my peripheral vision, I saw Jude staring in our direction. He was probably wondering what kind of altercation was going on between me and Isaac.

“Look, Kevin,” Isaac was saying, “I know how uncomfortable this makes you. Believe me, I feel that way too. But it has happened and there’s no going back. So let’s just move on from it –”

“What exactly are you talking about?” I asked, sincerely wondering if he meant the event of ten years ago or the event of six days ago.

“Everything,” he replied. “Kevin, Kuddus really likes you and I don’t want what happened between us to affect whatever it is you guys have going on.”

“Yeah, but it does.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you’re cool with all this?”

“Of course. I have no problem with you people.”

“You people?”

“You know, gays…”

My irritation deepened at what I thought was his patronization. “I have to go now, Isaac,” I said woodenly, before whirling around and hastening away from him.

As I walked into the men’s room on the ground floor, the sounds of the party began to fade away, and the last thing I heard was the introduction of the female rapper, Felicitee to the stage.

I stood in front of the bank of mirrors, alone in the restroom, after splashing some water to my face. This night, like my life, definitely wasn’t giving me the peace of mind that the departure from an old year and commencement into a new year was supposed to give me. Here I was, at a party with a guy who kissed me and then proceeded to lose all memory of me, and another guy who I hated but may have to endure because I was sort of dating his cousin, all the while, planning to steal information from my boss.

My life could not get any more complicated.

I thought that too soon.

Just then, the door of the convenience opened.

I glanced sideways at the mirror and saw his reflection advance into the room.

I turned hastily around, feeling my heart thumping a little faster. “Jude, er, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you’re doing,” he said, as he approached me. “Are you okay?” Concern clouded his features.

“Yes I am.” I forced a chuckle. “Why would you think otherwise?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I noticed some unpleasantness between you and some guy back in the hall.”

“Oh, that wasn’t what it looked like,” I said airily. “There’s really nothing wrong.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” He was now standing right before me.

I swallowed as the very essence of him filled my nose and assailed my senses. He looked so good and sounded so sincere, and it was just unfair! Frustration snapped a bit of the control I’d held over my emotions and I burst out, “That’s just the thing, Jude. I can’t! I can’t talk to you. We’re different people now. I mean, what exactly do you know about me, besides the fact that we were robbed in my house? Nothing! We’re not the same people we used to be. And honestly, I don’t think things can ever go back to how they used to be, not by a long shot.”

“That’s not true,” he said, as he took my hand in his.

“It is,” I countered, too caught up with my despair to notice what he’d just done.

“It’s not,” Jude insisted, now looking me in the eye, almost as if he wanted me to notice something about him.

Suddenly I became aware of our closeness. I began to draw back. “Jude, what is this… What are you –”

I didn’t get to finish. He pulled me forward by the neck, and kissed me. I didn’t even have time to be shocked by what he’d just done. I instinctively began kissing him back. The kiss caught fire within seconds of our lips meeting. His tongue, arousing, probing, was warm and soft. Suddenly, standing still was no longer an option, not with his hands moving up and down my back, pulling me close, as though he wanted to meld us together. As the kiss changed to one rough with need, a moan escaped my throat. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. I couldn’t remember such sweet, aching wanting, the liquid warmth, the slipping away of my control, this control I’d held on to for so long.

Oh God, what was I doing? What was going on here?

It took all my willpower to finally push Jude away. I drew in a long, shuddering breath and held on to him for a moment, testing my balance.

“What the hell, Jude?” I rasped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he questioned back.

 “But – but, at the hospital, you said you didn’t remember me, didn’t remember any-anything,” I stammered as my whole world began to feel like it was crumbling down around me.

“Yes, I know,” he replied. “I lied.”

“You what?!”

“I lied,” he repeated.

“Why in God’s name would you do that? Wait, so you remember?”

“Everything.” His mouth began to curve into a smile. “I remembered then when I woke up from my second coma, as I remember now. I remembered everything.”

“But why…” My voice trembled. I couldn’t identify what emotions were now roiling inside me.

“I had to. My sister was in the room. She knows about us, Kev. And I didn’t want to risk her unpredictability at that moment.”

“So you just pretended?”

“Kevin, you really do not know my sister. That day I came to your house, we’d just had a fight about you. She read my BBM chats with Samuel, and knew I was coming to see you. Kevin, she told me I’d be sorry if I came to see you.”

An icy chill snaked its way up my spine as realization began to dawn on me. “You can’t mean… Surely you’re not saying your sister paid those thugs to come and rob us, are you?” I knew Janet was a woman not to be trifled with. But this was on another level of diabolical.

“I’m not saying that. Then again, I’m not putting it past her,” Jude answered. “And I didn’t want to risk it then. That was why I had to pretend like I didn’t remember you in front of her, okay? But when Samuel told me about this party, I thought –”

“You thought you could just come here and kiss me and then drop the bomb on me, abi?”

“Kevin, it’s not that –”

“Look!” I interrupted, stepping further back from him. He made to move after me, but I stayed his motion with my upraised hands. “This is too much right now. I need to gather myself.

“Kevin –”

“I just need some time to figure out how I feel about all this. So much has changed since you got admitted into that hospital.”

“It doesn’t have to remain changed. We can get back what we lost.”

I was shaking my head even as he spoke. “I wish it were that easy.” I gave him a wide berth as I began walking out of the restroom. “I have to go now.”

I stepped out of the room, and took a moment to draw in a shaky breath. Contemplations assailed my mind. Jude remembered! Jude lied about remembering! Janet could be dangerous! Jude kissed me! Oh my God!

The receipt of a text message on my phone jolted me from my reverie. I resumed walking away from the entrance of the restroom as I clicked open the text.

It was from Ngozi, and it read:  It’s time. Meet me at the entrance to her office.

Taking a bracing breath for what was about to come, I started for the elevator. I got on it and pushed the button for the floor of Maureen Bassey’s office. When I came to the closed door of the office, I suddenly began to get a strange feeling I couldn’t shake off.

It almost felt as though something wasn’t right.

“Whatever,” I muttered as I placed my hand on the door knob. “I’m already here, I might as well get it over with.”

I pulled back the beautiful ivory door and stepped inside the office beyond. I had a quick impression of the fact that the room was lit, before a female voice said very coldly, “It’s about time. We wondered if you’d have the guts to show up.”

I stood rooted to the spot, stunned speechless. Dread and confusion swirled inside me too.

Standing before me was Maureen Bassey, an elegant figure with her arms crossed as she rested her hip against her desk.

Beside her stood Ngozi, and she had a wooden expression on her face. Her voice was flat as she said, “Sorry, Kevin.”

“Ngozi, what the hell is going –”

I didn’t get to finish my outrage, because just then, I felt a presence behind me smash a heavy object against my head.

The last thing I heard was the shattering sound of the object, and the last thing I saw while sprawled out on the ground was Ngozi, Maureen and a man I didn’t recognized as they crowded around me to watch me lose consciousness.

Written by Reverend Hot