(Continued from last issue)

David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.

DAVID

I was woken up a little after seven by Junior excitedly bouncing up and down in his crib, simultaneously calling out ‘dada, …dada…’ “Hi, little man,” I greeted him with a groggy smile, as I got up and carried him out of the crib.

There was no sign of Julie, but once I opened the bedroom door, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and sound of something sizzling in a frypan, led me to her in the kitchen.

She had her back to me and was standing at the cooker in nothing more than the T-shirt she had gone to bed in.

“Mummy!” Junior called out, announcing our presence, and she spun around.

“Jesus Christ; you almost gave me a heart attack! When did you two wake up?” she gasped in surprise.

“We just did,” I answered and greeted her with a peck on the cheek; “Good morning beautiful; how was your night?”

“Fine thanks; yours?” “Good; quiet,” I answered, a not-so-subtle reference to the lack of any activity. If she caught on to my hint, she did not show it.

“Breakfast will be ready in a minute, and then I’ll take him for his bath,” she motioned at Junior.

“There’s no rush.” “The driver will be here soon; I want to be ready when he arrives,” she answered insistently, and there it was again, that sense from the previous night that there was something off about her demeanor.

It was as though there was a wall she had put up, or distance she was trying to keep, without showing it, but it was so unlike her that it stood out like a sore thumb.

“The driver can wait, and so can Junior’s bath. What’s going on?” I asked with concern.

“What do you mean?” she answered, glancing away nervously.

Her reaction only confirmed my suspicion; so, I pressed on. “

Come on, Julie, I can tell something’s wrong; what is it? What happened?” I asked gently, my tone encouraging.

She did not answer immediately, but then took a deep breath, and looking up, looked me straight in the eye: “Who owns the site?”

JULIE

Based on our history, I normally would not have paid any attention to anything David’s wife had to say, but this time, there was something about not just what she had said, but the assured and disparaging way in which she had said it, that had really shaken me, and the more I mused over her words, the more they rang true.

After all, hadn’t both Sandra and my mother said pretty much the same thing in the past?

That David could leave me with nothing, and that I would be wise to secure Junior and my future before that happened? What if they had been right all along?

What if everything I was doing to support David, was in fact supporting his wife and their children? The mere thought of it was terrifying, and I knew I needed to have a serious and frank discussion with David about it, but the thought of that was almost equally scary, and I had not yet figured out how to broach the subject, when he beat me to it, insisting that he could tell something was wrong, demanding to know what it was. Under pressure, I cracked.

“Who owns the site?” I blurted out. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Who owns the site?” I repeated. “Who do I work for?”

“What do you mean, who do you work for? Me, you, Junior; I don’t understand the question.”

It was obvious I was going to have to be even more direct.

“Your wife came to the site yesterday,” I said quietly. “What! What did she want?” he demanded in shock and anger.

“To tell me how the site is ‘matrimonial property’, so Junior and I have nothing, and I basically work for your family with her.”

“She’s gone mad; I swear this time she’s really lost it!” he shook his head in disbelief before turning his focus back on me.

“What did you say?” he asked, his eyes narrowed almost suspiciously.

“Nothing; what could I say? She was right, after all, wasn’t she?” “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t I provide for you and Junior?” he demanded indignantly.

“You do, but what would happen if you weren’t there anymore? She would throw us out in a heartbeat.”

“So, what are you saying? You want your name on the title now?” he asked sarcastically.

“Well, at least on the one for the manager’s unit.” “I can’t believe you! You sound just like her!” he practically spat out in disgust.

His words stung like he had hit me, and I winced at the rage, hate, and disappointment in them; knowing how he felt about his wife, he comparing me to her was the worst insult he could give.

DIANE

I knew David was in a rage from the moment his car came racing up the driveway, the way he slammed first his car door, then the front door, and finally the sound of his footsteps stomping up the stairs before he barged into our bedroom.

“What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you go to the site talking about how it’s matrimonial property? Who the hell told you that? For your information, that site belongs to my father and I, and since he’s gone now, that means it belongs to his family and I; that is, my mother and sister. Not you!” he barked.

“I know,” I answered calmly. “Then what the hell did you go to the site spewing nonsense for?” he shouted.

I sighed tiredly like I was dealing with an unreasonable child before answering.

“So, you could finally see the truth in what I’ve been telling you all along – that your little whore is nothing more than a gold-digger! Come on David, after all these years, do you really think I need to fight for property? I have a lovely home, beautiful, healthy children in the best of schools, a successful business, my own car; what do I need to fight for? I already have everything I need. She, on the other hand, has nothing, and so is looking at what you have, but you couldn’t see that, so I decided to show you,” I shrugged like I was saying the obvious.

He did not answer me immediately, but just like with his whore, I saw the wheels in his mind turning, and I knew my words had struck a chord that he had not previously considered.

“You need to stay away from the site, and from her,” he finally answered, but the explosive rage he had barged in with had faded, and as he turned and walked back out of the room, I knew my mission had been a success.

Sure, he was angry, and that was to be expected, but that anger would fade until it was all gone, and once it was, all that would remain would be my words about his whore being a gold-digger, and I would finally have my husband back.

The pieces of my plan could not have fallen into place anymore perfectly than they had, I thought to myself, with a triumphant smile as I heard his car engine start up again.

margaretwamanga@yahoo.com