(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
Driving back to my parents’ house, I had to hand it to Diane; she could not have played her cards any better.
She knew that my mother and I did not want her at the house but also knew that neither one of us would kick her out in front of the children or her parents; so, she had shown up with both.
Well played, Diane; well played, I thought to myself angrily. Since I could not get rid of her, my only option was to get Julie out of there before they met, as there was no telling how Diane would react in that scenario, and the last thing I wanted was any drama at my father’s wake.
As it were, my mother was already a wreck, and she would not be able to take the extra stress, and neither could I. Thankfully, my sister’s last update was that everything was under control – for now.
Some cousins had arrived, and were serving the mourners in the house, which was where Diane and her parents had planted themselves, while Julie was serving the mourners in the tents; so, their paths had not crossed – yet.
Luckily, Junior had fallen asleep and was out of sight in one of the back bedrooms, but there was no telling when he would wake up. I knew my luck would not last indefinitely; so, it was imperative that I act quickly.
Arriving at my parents’ house, it took me a few moments to spot Julie, standing in a corner at the back of the tent, clearly trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. I started making my way towards her, wading through the crowd of mourners in the tent, pausing at each to shake their hands and accept their condolences.
When I finally got to her, I acted like I was shaking her hand too, but I was in actual fact passing her my car keys, and in a quick, hushed whisper said: “Go wait for the driver in the car; I’ll have someone bring Junior and your bags.”
Her eyes widened in a mixture of shock and hurt, but I moved on before she could respond. She might not like my instructions, but I knew she would follow them.
JULIE
After everything I had done to support him and his mother, to be dismissed so abruptly by David felt like a slap in the face.
What stung even more, was that I knew he had done it because of his wife’s arrival, yet she had not even liked his father, and while his father and I had not had the time to build a strong relationship, the one we had started, was based on mutual respect and comprised of mutual affection; so, if anyone should have been kicked out of his vigil, it should have been her, and yet, I was the one who had been so unceremoniously told to leave!
The sense of injustice and betrayal was overwhelming, and when the driver came to the car, carrying my bags, and closely followed by one of David’s younger cousins carrying a still sleeping Junior, I was embarrassed and angry, but more than anything else, I was hurt.
Of course, David had done lots of things in the past that I did not agree with, and yes, some of them had hurt and seemed unfair, but not like this; this one had cut deep, and I knew it would take a long time for me to get over it.
The drive back to the apartment was awkward and uncomfortable; the driver had obviously figured out what was going on and seemed embarrassed on my behalf, and I was trying desperately not to give in to my overwhelming desire to just break down and cry; so, we drove in silence.
When we got to the apartment complex, I carried up Junior, while the driver helped me with my bags and set them down by the door as I thanked him.
“You’re welcome,” he nodded, and then added a mumbled “sorry,” before turning around and beating a hasty exit.
Still carrying Junior, I fumbled around in my handbag for the keys, opened the door, and pushed the bags in ahead of me with my foot, pushed the door closed behind me with my back, and then took Junior who was unbelievably still asleep to bed.
Once I had put him down in his cot, I quietly left the room, softly closing the bedroom door behind me, and returning to the living room. Only then did I give in to my pent-up desire to cry, slumping onto the nearest couch, and breaking down in a heap of tears.
DIANE
Even though it had been done very sneakily and hurriedly, I saw David’s whore and bastard son leave, and it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to stop myself from smiling smugly.
My confidence in my position as David’s wife had taken a thorough beating after David and his mother had kicked me out of the hospital, and now that the tables had turned and the whore had been kicked out of his parents’ home – no doubt because of my arrival – that had gone a long way in rebuilding that confidence, and for the first time in a long time, I felt respected and acknowledged by David as his wife, even though his actions were probably influenced by the presence of my parents and other mourners.
It was for this same reason, that although I had initially resented my parents practically forcing me to come, I now appreciated their interference and presence, for not only had it literally gotten me a gate pass into the vigil, it had also re-established my position as David’s wife to everyone around, and had no doubt put his whore back in her place.
However, when my mother began to whisper to me, that perhaps I should play a more active role in helping with the tasks that needed doing, rather than simply sitting in the living room like any other mourner, that appreciation quickly reverted to irritation.
“I’m not a server, or the hired help; there are people here to do that,” I whispered back under my breath.
“I know, but you could at least help coordinate them,” she whispered back insistently.
“Mum, I’m not getting up from this seat, and that’s that; now please drop it, people are beginning to stare,” I retorted harshly.
Discretely glancing around us, my mother clearly saw what I was referring to, as she thankfully fell silent, and sat back up, though the somber, mournful expression she had worn since our arrival, now had a slight pout of sulkiness too.
Let her sulk, I thought to myself defiantly; I had come as David’s wife, a member of the bereaved family, not its workhorse.
margaretwamanga@yahoo.com
wow Diane, you are such a character !