“Babe? Hey babe.” Ahh. His Voice. Still has that calming effect even after three years of being together (Two years dating, one year married).
“I’m okay, you?” Lord knows i’d kill for a hug right now.
“Seriously babe, I’m okay. Just had a pretty long rough day.”
“Yeah of course, i’ll tell you all about it when i get back but i’m not sure when that’ll be.” Eyes closed, i imagine him giving me a deep massage while i tell him how my boss has somehow gotten it into her head that I’m some kind of 21st century machine.
“I know babe, i know but there’s this meeting with those clients from China. You know they never stop working. I’ll be back as soon as i can.”
*huge smile* *warm feeling coursing through my body* “Ahhh babe…how am i supposed to concentrate now….Alright, can’t wait to get home. See you in a bit.”
“Love you right back my love.” Now I really can’t wait to get home. But first i have to get through this meeting. *sigh, picking up my ipad* I better get my Chun li on.
I’m so exhausted. I drive out of the parking lot grateful that at least, the island-mainland traffic would’ve cleared at this time. Ah, i spoke/thought too soon. Of course. Trust this stupid Ajose street to surprise you. Hiss. I should call and tell him about the traffic since we spoke just before i left the office. Sigh.
Car parked, i trudge wearily to the door and it swings open just as i reach for my keys. My smiling husband picks me up and shushes me with a deep kiss as i try to apologise for being home that late. “It’s okay baby, its okay. Had dinner yet?” He places me down on a seat at the dining table which he’s tastefully set for two. “Aww babe, you didn’t eat yet?” He smiles, telling me he decided to wait. I almost cry as i open up the serving dishes and see their content. White rice, steamed just the way i like (a bit hard) served with a sauce of assorted vegetables and meats. Fried plantain on the side. Bottle of wine (White, even though he prefers red). “I know you’re tired and would rather not talk now, so *picking up the stereo remote control* Babyface? At this point, i can only nod and think about how much I’m in love with this man this very minute. We eat in the most comfortable of silences as Babyface belts out ‘Soon As I Get Home:
“I give good love
I’ll buy your clothes
I’ll cook your dinner too
Soon as i get home from work
I’ll pay your rent
your faithful lover
Girl i’ll treat you right and i’ll never lie
Soon as i get home, soon as i get home…”
We’re done and I make to pick up his empty plate and he stops my hand. “Don’t worry about it babe. I’ve got this tonight. Go on ahead and have a bath. I’ll be with you in a bit”. I try to protest (weakly albeit) and then i get shushed again. His style.
As i make my way from the dining table to the stairs that lead to our bedroom, my eyes catch something on the floor. I look down and see little white stickers with chocolate kisses printed on them, stuck on the floor. I go up the stairs and follow the stickers all the way to our bedroom door and then my heart almost burst as i see the final big sticker on the door: “I KISS THE GROUND YOU WALK ON”. The tears did come this time.
I step out of the bathroom, lean on the door for a bit and just stare at the six feet of sweet brown maleness staring right back at me. Waiting for me. “C’mere baby.” Like i needed any invitation. I slide into the bed and he turns, takes off my robe, turns me over gently and starts to massage my shoulders. Gently. I feel myself slowly relax. His hands move slowly over my back, working their magic. And then his lips replace his hands…Sigh…
Sigh. Mustapha can like to open this gate already.
Car parked, i trudge wearily to the door and slowly reach for my keys. Sigh. Real life sucks. I open the door and see him sitting on the couch totally engrossed in the rerun of the game. He barely turns his head. “Hey babe”. Hey, i reply and lean in for a kiss. I get the cheeks. He can not tear his eyes away from the game even though it is a rerun. Too tired to pick on the little things, i go on ahead and apologise for not being there to cook him dinner. “It’s okay babe, just reduce the quantity of eba.” I stop dead in my tracks. Surely, this can not be. In a carefully controlled voice i ask as casually as possible, “Oh you haven’t eaten yet?” Now his eyes leave the TV screen. But only for a second to give me this ‘what kind of question is that’ look. I garner all my remaining strength, without a word, set my bag on the dining table and head into the kitchen. IS HE BLOODY KIDDING ME? He couldn’t get soup from the freezer, throw into the microwave, boil some water and make some measly eba to eat? Sheeesh! Would it have killed him? Made him any less a man? Did he not think that i would be tired and maybe just maybe i would like my dinner served me for a change? I am so livid. I make the food in furious silence and set it on the table. I inform him that it is ready. Okay? Okay? Not thank you baby, i know you’re pretty beat, i could even hear it in your voice when i called you four hours ago? I stomp up the stairs too tired to eat even though my last meal was about 10 hours ago.
I step out of the bathroom, lean on the door for a bit, exhausted, and just stare at the six feet of brown maleness staring right back at me. He has that glint in his eyes. I swear if he comes near me tonight. I slide into the bed, pull up the covers and lie on my side, backing him, hoping he’d get the message. He did. Again, i spoke/thought too soon. What is that i feel, his hand? I turn my head slowly and give him a look that put a face to the thoughts in my head: If you do not want your hand severed, you would get it off of me right this minute. If i wasn’t too tired, i’d have chuckled at the look on his face and the alacrity with which he removed his hand.
He’s not getting any for a week. Sigh.