MARRIED TO VICTOR STEPHEN
#Episode_4
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Finally back home, I couldn’t wait to relax my tired b©dy and have the whole day for myself. I had just a week left to resume back to work. I checked the time which was past eight alre-ady, and immediately, I went into the kitchen to fry the egg Victor requested me to, and brou-ght it to the table because I knew just this time, he would come downstairs to eat his breakfast and leave for work.
I was glad I would be on morning shift by the time I resumed back to work. It wasn’t easy leaving the children alone with their father, but I couldn’t be more happier, knowing Victor cares, and take of them so well whenever I’m on night shift.
“When she eats too early, something is involved.” I felt hisl-ips on my n£¢k. I st©pped eating to say good morning, only for him to pick up my spoon and started eating out of my rice. “So both of you are just eating without calling Daddy.”
A smile appeared on myl-ips knowing what he meant by that. He had alre-ady concluded I was expecting a baby. A grin displa-yed on his face, waiting for me to talk. He laughed since I was just staring. “Woman, don’t murder me with that look. Is Daddy eating rice or not?”
I shook my head, a lot of reply I could give him dancing in my head, but I kept quiet. “That is your egg over there. Now st©p eating my rice.”
He laughed heartily. “Junior dear, you see how mommy can be when it comes to food. plea-se take after Daddy okay,” he joked.
I couldn’t wipe away the smile on my face. Can he
st©p being cute, and funny? No, I don’t want him to
st©p. He makes me smile. I’ve come to love him
more than my imagination. He keeps trying to be
the best man, husband, and father to our children.
And I’m so proud of him.
He alre-ady name the baby we aren’t sure about. If there was something I love about Victor, he is always optimistic, and thinks positively. I love him. I love this man before me. And all I want is to be the wife, and the mother he wants for his children.
“Thinking about how he would look like?” He brou-ght me back to pres£nt.
My eyes wi-de-ned, as I stared at him with a surprise look. He had almost finish my rice. “Don’t tell me you’re still going to eat that bre-ad and egg?”
He laughed at my silly look. “So that you can eat it, because I took just three spoon of your rice?” I didn’t wait to hear what he was saying. When I c@m£ back, he started laughing. “You this woman, can’t I eat in peace?”
I dropped the remaining bre-ad on the table as soon as I took out of it. “Just drop it and let us share it into two. You finished my rice.” I told him if he had forgotten just now.
He coughed in a mocking way. “Just bring your plate,” he said. “All this is because of junior,” he added. I couldn’t help grinning, as he gave me out his egg, and we both ate peacefully. Immediately he was done, he cleaned up, got to his feet, and gave me a pe-ck on myl-ips.
“Bye,” I said, as he picked up his car key, and walked towards the door.
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Immediately Victor left for work, I began to inspect my b©dy for more signs of pregnancy. I could see joy, gladness, plastered on his face with the idea that we were expecting a baby. I couldn’t say he was wrong with his conclusion, but many illness share the same signs and symptoms. So taking a pregnancy test was the right option. But would have to wait till I resume to work.
I headed up to check my children’s room to re-arrange everything they’ve scattered around. I went straight to Emmanuella’s room first, because I’ve come to know both of them, that I was so sure that Emmanuel would have la-id his be-d. Even though he wouldn’t have done it well, yet he does it just the way he can.
I entered Emmanuella’s room and glance around to know where to start, but my eyes fell on the green basket. The green basket I gave to her, and instructed her to always put her dirty clothes. I forgot about arranging the rooms, and began packing dirty clothes from one room to the other.
I realized being a wife, and a mother isn’t an easy job. This is what men would never un-derstand. They expected you to do everything just because you’re the wife in the house. And when you don’t do it, they label you as someone lazy. But thank God we still have some men who are considerate to help their wives with the house chores.
Our room was the last one for me to enter. Immediately I packed everything together, I walked slowly to our be-d. Lemme just rest. I couldn’t fight the be-d calling me to feel its warm.
I felt like I was being disturbe-d, and just as I was about to close my eyes, the phone rang again for the second time. I felt the soft comfort of the be-d, when I realized I was still on the be-d resting.
A rest like slee-ping.
That type of rest you deceive yourself with.
It rang again for the third time. This time, I stretched my hand trying to get hold of my phone. The phone st©pped ringing before having it in my hand. I unlocked it, only to suddenly jump out of the be-d. I could not believe I sle-pt for more than three hours alre-ady. I checked the missed calls to see it was Mercy calling.
Mercy, my admirable cousin. She was pressured until she was finally a married woman. She got married at thirty one, and of course, everyone expected a baby immediately, but Mercy and her husband were not re-ady to have kids yet.
Aunty would not st©p bulging me to talk to my cousin. I knew if Mercy was living with her husband here in Nigeria, it would have been a different story, where you are expected to be pregnant immediately you set foot in your husband’s house. But because they were out of the country, they had no fear, and was free. But now that she was pregnant, we all couldn’t wait for her to deliver. The last picture she s£nt to me, she was alre-ady heavy, and soon she would offload. I dropped my phone back. I would just call her later.
The moment I was done with the washing of clothes, I bec@m£ so tired than ever. But still, I had to drag my tired b©dy to the kitchen to prepare something for the children before they arrive. I had no choice. I boiled the eggs, and cooked the spaghetti at the same. There is just something about it that my kids love. Its either spaghetti or Noddles.
•••
“Mommy!”
“Mommy!” They both ran to me the moment I stepped out of the car. I gave them a motherly hvg, and quic-kly thanked the two teachers who stayed with the students before we left.
“So how was school today?” It has been my daily routine every time to ask them whenever I pick them up from school. I remembered back then how Dad would ask how my day in school went whenever he pick my sister and I during primary school days. That was the time my sister and I were so close to Dad. And as naive, and talkative as we were back then, we would tell him everything from A to Z.
As usual, Emmanuella and Emmanuel yelled at once expecting me to listen to them at the sane time.
“Mommy we have a new uncle.”
“Mommy you know…”
“No Emmanuel, the uncle…”
“One by one!” I could feel the stress of my voice down my throat. They kept quiet for some seconds, not knowing whether to talk or not. “Who will go first?” My voice was calm again.
Emmanuella spoke up. “Mommy, that new uncle I was talking about…”
“Yes,” I encouraged her to go on.
“Mommy that uncle called me fine girl.” I just smiled. So what? She stressed the fine girl like it was one big deal. The teacher was only trying to compliment her. She drank out of the water left in her bottle, closed it back and continue talking. “Mommy, he now called me, Sharon, and Maddie. He now gave us biscuits…” The talk was getting boring for me, but I just had to listen as usual.
“And you did not call me to take my own?” I heard the big brother who sat at the back finally opened his mouth again.
“What did I tell you about collecting things from strangers?” I really did not know how else to tell them after all my warnings.
“Mommy don’t mind him,” Emmanuella spoke up. “Did he have br£@st that our uncle can t©uçh?”
brea-st!
t©uçh!
br£@st that our uncle can t©uçh!
I almost lost my br@ke. But I manage to quic-kly controlled myself, and halt beside the road.
“Emmanuella what did you just say?” I nee-ded to confirm. I nee-ded to be sure. I wasn’t sure I heard her well. But at the same time, those words kept humming in my br@in, and I couldn’t get them out of my head.
brea-st
That
Our
Uncle
Can
t©uçh.
Emmanuella stared at me strangely about my sudden reaction, before she could finally talk again. “Mommy she asked Sharon to show him the colour of her p@n-t, and asked me to show him my big brea-st.”
Now I experienced why parents get unexpected headache, because immediately she said those words, I felt my head spinning. I bec@m£ sick, and worried.
Pedophile! That’s what he is.
Animal that deserves to live in the bush.
I always hear of their unforgiven act, but never have I have someone close to me experience or be a victim. I couldn’t imagine someone tou-ching my daughter. Seriously, I didn’t expect such person to be in a big, and expensive school like that.
What are we paying half a million for? Only God knows what he will do to them tomorrow. Only God can tell if the other two would tell their parents’ as well.
I started the car again. I knew I wouldn’t meet the foolish, stupid, animal, goat, chimpanzee, and that monkey of a guy that call himself uncle. Pedophile
Uncle. But the school authority must hear about it, and take action immediately.
I headed to the direction of their school, not bothered to ask anymore questions.
“Ahh. Mommy, are we not going home again?” Emmanuel asked.
“Of course we will. Mommy forgot to buy the caprissone.” With that, they can never go against me.
“Yeeyyy!!!” Both of them shouted excitedly.
“Mommy you know you promise me one,” Emmanuel reminded me.
“And me too Mommy. Me, I will take two because I did not complain this morning.” I could not smile because of the goat that call himself uncle.
“So is me that will now take one?” I knew Emmanuel would surely disagree. “Me and you will take two like that. Final!” My boy just spoke like a man. Final!
They kept on arguing, while I focused on the the road. It won’t be a problem when I tell them their
headmistress is now selling caprisonne.
As long as we entered the house with caprisonne.
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•••••••Lesson I derived••••••
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Married, singles, with youngers ones. Whichever
category we fall into, I learnt that we should always
ask these little ones questions about what goes on
in their lives. Yes, they can talk too much, but let us
always talk to them to have them open up, and tell
us things that happens to them. Trust me, they are
re-ady to talk to someone who is re-ady to listen.
âž–âž–âž–âž–
Story_Continues✔