Tunde & Anaya: Part 7

Posted on 28/03/2013

southerncharms2

Although there was relief in her father’s words, the empty look in her mother’s eyes haunted her throughout the night. She’d begged her father not to say a word until she was sure about her feelings and about Tunde. He readily agreed, still grieved for his wife who would no doubt protest the relationship if it indeed happened.

Anaya tamped down a sigh as she shoved her notebook into her purse before standing. Blinking at the empty classroom, she shook her head wryly. Since last night, she couldn’t get her mind to focus on anything but her mother’s feverish words to keep her daughters safe from the evil ones… She shivered involuntarily, already imagining her mother’s adverse reaction to Tunde. Shaking her head again, Anaya exited the classroom and headed down the hallway.

The loud chatter of pharmacy students crowded in the hallway bounced off Anaya’s ears as she remained in a daze, trying to figure out how to reconcile her duty to her family without ignoring her heart. She’d had another dream about Tunde and although it was a foolish thought of being with him, happy and content, she couldn’t help it. Smothering another sigh, Anaya pushed open the glass door and headed down the stairs toward the parking lot.

She rubbed the back of her neck, sore from reading throughout the night. Two more days and she would have to sit for the first final of the year. It was enough reason to push Tunde from her mind. It didn’t matter since he had no way of finding her or her finding him. It was probably better this way, she assured herself as she crossed the street to the lot.

Lifting her eyes as she stepped onto the sidewalk, Anaya almost choked on a gasp as she saw him. Long legs clad in charcoal slacks crossed at the ankle, arms folded over a broad chest and that smile that she admittedly had missed. She felt her heart slam hard against her chest as Tunde Halliday pushed away from his car and started slowly toward her, long arms at his sides. She couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. The sun behind him had cast an almost ethereal glow over his head and she would’ve laughed at the silliness of her thoughts but couldn’t. She just gaped openly at him.

He gave her a lopsided smile and Anaya finally released the breath she’d been holding. “Hey,” Tunde said softly, his eyes tracing her face openly as if he’d missed seeing her as much as she did him.

The overwhelming desire to fall into his arms rocked her. She’d missed him. “Hey,” she breathed, tightening her hold on her bag’s strap. Her eyes did their own open perusal of his angular face before returning to those dark eyes. Her brow furrowed slightly when she noted the absence of mirth.

“I hoped I wouldn’t miss you coming out of class…” Tunde continued, his eyes holding hers captive.

Anaya blinked. “How long did you wait?” She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

He shrugged casually, one corner of his lips lifting in a half smile that made her warm all over. “Not long. How was your day?”

Better now. “Not bad… Yours?”

Tunde merely smiled and Anaya forgot to breathe as she saw the answer in his eyes. “Want a ride home?”

Anaya bit her bottom lip. She wanted to spend time with him, wanted to be with him now more than ever. Then her mother’s solemn expression crossed her mind and she frowned slightly. “I don’t know…”

He raised a brow at her. “Why not?”

Anaya shook her head. “Well, I drove so…”

He chuckled. “That’s right. Well, I merely said that so I could spend time with you.”

She felt the warmth rush up to her head, overwhelmed that her thoughts were echoed by his words. “I know…” she said quietly and lowered her gaze. So much for staying away from the distraction of him.

“Have you had dinner?”

Anaya lifted her eyes and shook her head. “You?” she adjusted the thick strap over her shoulder.

Again with the crooked smile. “I was hoping to eat with you.” He raised one dark brow. “What about it?”

She smiled back. “Okay…”

Tunde grinned fully now, some of the mirth returning to his gaze. He nodded and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Mind riding with me? I’ll bring you back to your car after dinner.”

Anaya knew it was probably easier to drive separately but had a feeling he didn’t care. She didn’t either. “Okay,” she replied, soft and serene smile curling her lips.

As they walked back to his car, Anaya snuck a look at the tall man beside her. There was something very secure and comforting about him, as if she didn’t need to worry or fear anything when she was with him. When he pulled open the passenger’s door for her, she lifted her eyes to his and felt the reassurance in those keen dark eyes that she was right. He would take care of her.

Giving him a shy grateful smile, Anaya ducked into the car and settled in the seat, realizing only then that the heaviness on her shoulders had eased off once she’d spotted him waiting for her. In the back of her mind, she knew that everything would be alright.

—

Dinner with Tunde Halliday was probably one of the best times Anaya could remember. She couldn’t stop laughing at his stories of growing up in Nigeria; from his horrible experience in a Navy boarding school where he ran home almost every week, to escaping from alligators in Yenegoa.

Anaya shook her head as she tore another piece of bread. “I don’t understand why you boys take such a risk with your lives? Why go into the river if you know there are alligators?”

Tunde grinned boyishly, dipping his piece of bread into the tomato soup. “Curiosity drives a man to do certain things, Ana. It’s what we’re about.” He smirked at her. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done anything risky.”

Anaya wrinkled her nose. “No way.” She chewed on the soft bread, eyes dancing at him.

His brows shot up in surprise. “Nothing risky at all?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s true. I’ve lived a careful life.” With a naturally-apprehensive mother like Hadiza, she didn’t have much of a choice. Also with a sister like Leeza who strived to test all boundaries, she had to keep it balanced in the house. In fact, choosing to be with Tunde would probably be the most risky thing she’d ever considered doing.

Tunde nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Well, that’s very admirable. I’m guessing it’s good. No scars or terrible stories of the past.”

Anaya frowned at him. “I didn’t say that…” She shrugged, lowering her eyes to the bread in her hand. “I just try not to get in situations that I can help avoiding.”

He was quiet for a moment and she lifted her eyes to his face again, surprised to find him staring solemnly at her. Anaya quickly retraced her words, trying to figure out if she said something wrong.

“Do you think you and I pursuing a relationship is a situation you want to avoid?” he asked softly.

“What do you mean?” Anaya asked, unable to breathe. How could he read her so easily?

Tunde shrugged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, gaze focused on her face. “I know that your people are wary of us…”

“Not you,” Anaya said quickly. “You’re only part Yoruba, right?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Ana. It’s still my blood. They’re still my people.” He forced out a sigh. “I’m sure you heard about what happened a few days ago… Two young men were killed because of what’s happening between our people.”

She frowned, her body tensing up. “What is this about?” Was he retracting his intentions to be with her just now that she was convincing herself to fight for it, for them?

Tunde raised a brow at her impatient tone. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. I don’t want to let the fighting between our people to stop me from pursuing you. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Anaya gaped at him, unable to respond.

“Ana…”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe this…” she whispered softly.

Tunde blinked at her. “Will it be a pro—“

“No.” Anaya shook her head again. “No, it’s not a problem.” She couldn’t fight back the smile as she lifted her eyes to his. His gaze was steady and strong as if he would stand with her and fight against the impending struggle that would ensue. Again the overwhelming desire to fall into his arms returned in full force and Anaya had to steel herself from standing.

“Good,” Tunde said, giving her a smile of his own. His dark hand moved across the table and caught hers, his long fingers wrapping around her palm as his eyes caressed hers, promising her he was here to stay.

<<Part 6 || Part 8>>

Categories: From The Binder

Tagged: , , , , , , ,

Neville & Genevieve: Part 2

Posted on 27/03/2013

fadingshadowsMuffled echoes of wailing drifted over her head as she leaned against the cold wall of her mother’s empty room, staring listlessly at the black gown draped over the chair. Silent tears fell down her sticky cheeks as she clenched the worn glove in her right hand, her left hand hanging over her folded knee. The fading scent of her mother’s lavender body powder remained under her nose where she’d swiped it above her upper lip. In the bleary daze, she didn’t notice the warm rays of the Caribbean sun caressing her right bare shoulder or the warm breeze that lifted her loosened hair that hung limply around her face.

Nothing was going to be the same. Everything was about to change. Even now things were not how they were a fortnight ago. The tears slid down onto her collarbone and she drew in her lips as the sobs surged up in her throat. Squeezing her eyes closed tightly, Genevieve lifted her hands to cover her face, the worn glove that belonged to her mother pressing against her nose. Faint fragrance of lavender and berries, her mother’s scent, wafted under her nose and a sob escaped her lips.

The door squeaked open and Genevieve stiffened, although she didn’t remove her hands from her face. Hesitant footsteps approached her and Genevieve bit her bottom lip, wanting to scream out for them to leave her alone. She was tired of the questions, the apologies, the sad piteous expressions on their faces as they expressed their regrets for her loss. She didn’t need their sympathy. She wanted her mother back.

“Gene…” the soft voice of her best friend, Ameya, pushed through the despair in her and Genevieve allowed the sobs to take over. “Oh dear…” the woman said as she knelt beside Genevieve and wrapped her arms around her. Genevieve allowed her body to lean against Ameya’s, letting the grief and pain to take control of every part of her. It was all she could do for now.

An hour passed and Genevieve stared over Ameya’s shoulder as her friend buttoned the front of her dress. Her body felt so heavy, her mind muddled, her heart straining and pulsing with sheer pain and emptiness. Ameya didn’t say a word, didn’t whisper any regretful thoughts or sympathy and that was what Genevieve needed right now; just companionable silence to cloak the ever-present loneliness looming over her.

Once she’d pushed Genevieve’s small feet into her polished shoes, Ameya helped her friend to stand to her feet and led her toward the door. She placed her hand on Genevieve’s arm, gently guiding her through the hallway where a few of their neighbors dressed in black waited for her. Shielding her friend from their solemn stares, Ameya quietly steered Genevieve toward the steps and her friend bit her bottom lip when she spotted Ameya’s tall Caucasian husband Jonathan. Even he’d come in her mother’s honor.

The tears fell down her cheeks as Ameya slid into the backseat of the car with her while Jonathan rounded the front to sit in the front. She lowered her gaze to her hand joined with Ameya as the car eased down the sloping street. It was all she could do not to look back at the house she’d shared with her mother for most of her life. Squeezing her eyes against the stinging tears, Genevieve leaned against Ameya.

“She was a strong yet gentle spirit,” the words of one of the middle-aged women beside the open grave drifted over Genevieve’s stiff body as she stood between Ameya and an inconsolable Mrs. Hendi. “Always there to offer a helping hand.” The woman paused to dab at her eyes. “A long time ago before she fell ill, she offered time again to take care of my children.”

Genevieve’s cheeks warmed, recalling her mother’s vivid brown eyes before her illness. The heart disease had taken a toll on her mother’s joy.

“I won’t ever forget her.”

The words continued with each attendant before they would place on top of the grave their white flowers, donated by Mamiku Gardens in honor of the sweet lady who had helped decorate the town with flowers at every festival.

“She’ll always be my little Fefe,” a deep voice filled with remorse sounded like loud echoes in Genevieve’s ears.

She looked up at the familiar nickname that only one man could call her. A sob caught in her throat as she gaped at the man standing beside the grave. His gentle but sad face blurred as the tears flowed freely once again. Biting her bottom lip, Genevieve had to lean against Ameya who had stepped up to steady her from falling.

“May her soul rest in perfect peace,” Neville said gently as he placed his flower on top of the others before rounding the grave to stand before Genevieve. He didn’t even give Ameya a moment to step away before he wrapped his arms around Genevieve whose agonizing sobs sounded above the others weeping around her.

—

A day had passed since the funeral and Genevieve stared quietly at the half-empty cardboard box containing her mother’s folded clothes. Her brow furrowed as she stepped forward, pulling a silky polka dot blouse out and unfolding it. She could still remember the day her mother had bought the blouse, proudly draping it over her chest and spinning around. Genevieve had been only ten at the time and her mother was celebrating with a new garment for her husband. The blouse held bittersweet memories since her mother had worn it the day her father was supposed to return from a fishing trip, only to pull his lifeless body against her bosom when his fellow colleagues brought him home.

Genevieve buried her nose into the fabric, breathing in the scent of lavender. Her mother had been such a strong woman, even with her debilitating health. Those dancing brown eyes were full of joy despite losing a husband early, or when she had to work late nights just to have enough money for their home and Genevieve’s schooling. A pang of regret forced the tears back to her eyes as she squeezed the fabric. She inhaled sharply when the tears slid onto the blouse and she pulled back, not wanting to soil the material. No she couldn’t put these away.

The door to her mother’s bedroom swung open and Genevieve quickly folded the blouse, placing it on the bed before turning toward the door. Her brow furrowed as her gaze lowered from the sight of Neve standing in the doorway. She hadn’t taken the time to get used to him being here after almost a year. “What do you want?” she mumbled hoarsely from crying throughout the night.

“I knocked a few times but figured you were here…” Neve answered easily, stepping over the threshold into the room. His eyes scanned the empty walls and shook his head. It was too soon, even for him. Lowering his gaze back to Genevieve, he raised a brow. “Why are you doing this by yourself?”

Genevieve sighed, folding her arms across her chest, hating this strange vulnerability she felt around him. “I’m not. Ameya and Jon took a few boxes away. I’m preparing the next set.” She swallowed the hard lump lodged in her throat.

“Why?” He took one step closer to her, noting how she also leaned away from him.

“Because… I have to.” Genevieve frowned as he stepped toward her and she shifted away, perching on her mother’s bed.

Neve stalled, glancing once at the open box before looking back at her. “That can wait. Have you eaten?”

Genevieve let out a humorless laugh. “Does it look like I want to eat right now?”

“It doesn’t matter. Have you eaten?”

“Leave me alone, Neve.”

“Can’t. Have you eaten?”

Her jaw clenched visibly and she glared up at him. “What is it to you if I eat or not? Does it matter?”

Neve merely stared at her and she jerked her eyes away, hating the look on his face. He was just like the others, full of pity and no promises to ease her pain. “Just go away, Neve. I’m not in the mood for company.”

“Remember when you said that to me?”

Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Don’t even try to equate your silly puppy love to what I’m feeling right now.”

“Fair enough.” Neve shrugged as he rounded the bed to sit beside her, noting with chagrin as she shifted away from him. He turned slightly to face her. “I’m asking as a friend who is genuinely concerned. I would bring over a casserole and force you to eat it but you know I can barely fry eggs.”

The corner of her lips lifted. “Thanks for not trying to kill me.” The smile faded quickly and she lowered her eyes, tears dropping on her gray pants.

Neve merely sat beside her with his hands trained at his sides, although his palms itched to wipe her tears and pull her back into his arms. He’d missed her. Missed those taunting brown eyes and her glib tongue. He should’ve known she was facing this trauma when he hadn’t heard from her in weeks. Imagining the pain Mrs. Faluna had faced in her last days and the heartache it’d caused Genevieve made his heart squeeze tightly. Pushing back his protests to stay on his side of the bed, Neve wordlessly draped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her close against him.

Genevieve merely turned and buried her face into the crook of his arm, sobbing openly. Neve looked over her head at the lone portrait of a younger Genevieve and her mother beaming brightly in front of a garden. He could only imagine the loneliness that had grasped hold of Genevieve and inadvertently, he pulled her closer.

<<Part 1 || Part 3>>

Categories: From The Binder

Tagged: , , , , , ,