After the storm (8 page)

"Pretty
girls who graduate with first-class honours don't talk too much, do
they?" he said after a while, dropping his fork and wiping his
mouth with the napkin.

She was
so surprised that she couldn't help laughing. This guy knew her so
well.

"So
what's up?" he asked.

Yemi
took a sip of her drink before responding, "I'm okay."

He
continued looking at her face. "Talk to me."

She
sighed. "I was just thinking about how different our families
are."

Akeem
smiled. "Yeah, you're right. No one has graduated with first-class
honours in my family yet. We're not that intelligent."

She knew
he was deliberately messing. "I'm not talking about
that."

His eyes
grew serious. "I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever
differences there are dissolves in the face of our love. You do
love me, don't you, Yemi?"

Her eyes
met his. "You know I do."

"Then
that's all that's important. Just make sure you always do. I don't
think I can survive if you ever stop."

"Strong
guy like you?" she teased, feeling herself relax again.

"I'm
like putty in your hands." His gaze was intense as he looked into
her eyes. "I never knew any woman could make me feel this way. From
the moment I set eyes on you in that Hawes and Curtis shop, I knew
you had to be mine." 

"And are
you mine?"

"Body
and soul," he replied softly. He reached into his pocket and
brought out a little black box. Yemi's eyes widened as he went down
on one knee before her. "Yemi, I love you with all my heart," he
said gently, taking her hand in his and looking into her eyes.
"Will you marry me?"

Yemi
could not speak. She had imagined this moment, but now that it was
here, she didn't know what to say.

"Yemi?"

"I love
you, Akeem," she replied, looking into his eyes. "And yes, I will
marry you."

"Thanks,
babe," Akeem replied, slipping a gorgeous diamond solitaire ring on
her finger. "You've made me a very happy man." He kissed her finger
after putting the ring on.

Yemi
held up her finger, and the ring sparkled prettily as it caught the
lights from the chandelier. "It's so beautiful." She didn't think
she could ever forget this moment as long as she lived. "And it's a
perfect size too. How did you know my size?"

"My
secret." Akeem smiled at her. "I'm happy you like the ring, but we
can always choose another one if you don't."

Yemi
shook her head. "This is perfect, and it means even more to me
because you picked it for me."

His eyes
locked on hers. "I'm so glad I can look forward to spending the
rest of my life with you. I love you so much."

"I love
you too, Akeem."

Chapter
4

Akeem
arranged for Yemi to meet his mum about two weeks later. He picked
Yemi up from her house, and they chatted lightly as he drove
towards Ikoyi, the highbrow area on the Island where his mother
lived.

Yemi was
a little nervous. She had changed her outfit three times before she
finally decided on a dress to wear. But despite her nervousness,
she was looking forward to meeting the mother of the man who meant
the world to her, and it would certainly be nice to have two
mothers.

She
could hardly wait to get married to Akeem and it was a pity that
they would have to wait for a year before they could. Her father
had insisted that she complete her youth service, which was the
mandatory one-year programme every newly qualified graduate in
Nigeria had to render to the nation. She knew her parents felt that
she was still a bit too young to be getting married and were using
the one year programme as an excuse to delay it.

"We're
almost there," Akeem said some time later, turning into the street
where his parents' home was located. Yemi looked at the large,
detached, gated properties along the street; each of them appeared
to be vying for a best architectural design award. A few minutes
later, Akeem drove through the massive wrought-iron gates of his
family home and raised his hand in acknowledgement of the security
men at their post. Yemi glanced at the lush, well-tended lawns as
he drove further in. Everything looked stately, from the tall palms
that lined both sides of the driveway and the beautiful flower beds
that dotted the large grounds to the lovely fountain in front of
the house.

A
uniformed maid opened the door for them. She greeted them and then
led them to the sitting room. She spoke to Akeem in Hausa before
leaving the room. 

"She
said my mum would be here shortly," Akeem explained to Yemi, and
she nodded. She had started trying to learn Akeem's language but
knew she still had a long way to go. "What would you like to
drink?" he asked.

Yemi
gave him a small smile, trying to still the nervousness rising
within her. "Thanks, but I'm okay for now."

He
squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I'll take you around the house
later. I'm sure you'd like to see my old room."

"Of
course."

He
reached for the remote control and switched on the TV. She glanced
around the sitting room, taking in the elegant settees and the
beautiful Persian rugs that adorned the gleaming marble floors. The
drapes that hung from the ceiling-to-floor windows were rich
in colour and texture and added to the general opulence of the
room.

Through
the arched doorway, Yemi could see another open space that looked
like a slightly lower floor from where they were seated. It seemed
to be another sitting room with different-coloured settees placed
strategically. She could also see a massive spiral stairway leading
upstairs. Everything she looked at oozed class and
elegance.

She
thought about her own father's sitting room back in Akoka and the
comfortable but worn sofas. There was always bound to be something
out of order no matter how much Bose tried to tidy up. This sitting
room, on the other hand, looked like it was brand new, everything
so orderly that she felt uncomfortable. She suddenly felt a little
homesick and longed for the familiar comfort of her
home.

Just
then, Akeem's mother came into the room. Yemi had seen pictures of
her, but she appeared taller in person. She was dressed simply in a
floor-skimming kaftan made of some wispy, butter-coloured, lace
fabric. The simplicity of the outfit emphasized her beauty, but it
was her eyes that caught Yemi's attention the most. She had
piercing, steely eyes, and those eyes were sweeping over Yemi at
the moment. From the expression in them when they rested on her
face again, Yemi felt as though she had been examined and found
wanting.

Yemi
stood up. She had practised some words in Hausa, but for the life
of her, she could not remember a single one of them. "Good
afternoon, Ma."

"Hello,
you must be Yemi," Mrs. Kadiri said, her lips stretching in what
appeared to be the semblance of a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm very well, thank you, Ma," Yemi replied, trying hard to
relax.
This was the mother of the man she
loved and her future mother in-law
.

"I hope
your parents are well?" Mrs. Kadiri asked as she sat opposite
them.

"Yes,
Ma, they are very well, thank you."

"Akeem
tells me that they are lecturers at the University of
Lagos?"

"That's
correct, Ma."

"And you
live on campus and have lived there for most of your
life?"

"Yes,
Ma."

"That
must be interesting." Yemi was not quite sure what she meant and
didn't know how to respond, but Mrs. Kadiri had already turned her
attention towards her son. "Aren't you going to offer her anything
to drink?"

"I've
done so, Mum, but she's okay for now."

Mrs.
Kadiri looked from Akeem to Yemi. Then she pressed a buzzer by her
side, and the maid appeared again. Mrs. Kadiri spoke rapidly to her
in Hausa, and the maid left the room. Akeem frowned at his mother
and then tried to smile when he caught Yemi watching
him.

"I have
asked the maid to bring us some drinks," Mrs. Kadiri said to Yemi.
"It is customary for us to entertain visitors when we meet
them."

"Thank
you, Ma," Yemi replied, wondering if she was a visitor or her son's
fiancée.

Mrs.
Kadiri focused those piercing eyes on Yemi once again. "Akeem tells
me that you have just graduated from the university. So what plans
do you have now that you are done?"

"Yemi
will be starting her youth service programme soon," Akeem
replied.

"I know
that." His mother sounded mildly irritated. "I meant
afterwards."

Yemi didn't think it would be appropriate to tell her that
she and Akeem planned on getting married afterwards. That
information was meant to come from Akeem, not her. "I was thinking
of doing my master's degree programme in England."
Well, that had been what she and her parents had
planned initially before she met Akeem, anyway.

The maid
came into the room at that moment, and Yemi almost sighed in relief
as Mrs. Kadiri looked away from her. The maid wheeled a small
trolley laden with different kinds of drinks towards them. Akeem
thanked her and then poured Yemi a glass of pineapple juice,
catching her eye and smiling as he did so. Yemi thanked his mother
for the drinks before taking a sip of the juice. The maid left the
room again, leaving the trolley behind.

"Doing
your master's programme abroad sounds like a good idea," Mrs.
Kadiri said, picking up where she had left off. "You might even
find out that you like it over there and stay back in the UK after
you finish your programme."

"We plan
on getting married before she does her master's programme," Akeem
said, looking steadily at his mother.

"Oh
really?" Mrs. Kadiri said, arching one perfectly shaped
eyebrow.

"Yes,
Mum. That's our plan."

Akeem
and his mother appeared to wage an unspoken war with their eyes,
and the tension in the room was almost palpable.

"Nadia
will be joining us for lunch," Mrs. Kadiri said, changing the
topic. "She is home for the weekend. She is out shopping but should
be here shortly."

"That's
what she does best—shopping," Akeem said, standing up in one fluid
motion. "Mum, I want to show Yemi the house. We will join you for
lunch later."

"Lunch
is in an hour," Mrs. Kadiri said stiffly. "It will be served in the
smaller dining room."

"We will
be there." Akeem smiled as he held his arm out to Yemi, and
then led her out of the room. Yemi was so conscious of Mrs.
Kadiri's eyes boring into her back that she wondered how she
did not trip. 

Akeem
led her to another, smaller, sitting room, and she sank gratefully
into a seat. 

"Are you
okay?" he asked.

"I'm
fine." She smiled wanly, not quite meeting his
eyes. 

"Wait
here for me, I'll be back." He touched her lightly on the shoulder
before leaving the room.

Yemi
felt somewhat confused. She got the distinct feeling that Akeem's
mother did not like her. There was just a certain coldness that she
could sense from her. She wondered how she was going to survive the
rest of her visit.

"Where
did you go?" she asked Akeem when he came back into the room a few
minutes later.

"I had
to sort something out quickly." He pulled her to her feet and held
her close for a moment before taking her hand in his. "Let me take
you around the house."

The
house turned out to be larger than she had thought. It had eight
bedrooms, all en suite. There was another sitting room upstairs,
two dining rooms, two studies, a gymnasium, and a huge kitchen.
There was also a swimming pool and another building behind the
house where the domestic staff lived. Yemi tried to appear
enthusiastic as Akeem took her around, but her mood had been
dampened by Mrs. Kadiri's coldness.

"It's
beautiful out here," she said as Akeem showed her the well-tended
garden located at the back of the house.

Akeem
looked around fondly. "We had plenty of fun here with our friends,
ball games and all. It used to get quite noisy in here back
then."

They sat
down on one of the garden seats, and he continued to tell her about
his childhood, but her thoughts were far away, and she did not
really hear half the things he was saying.

"This
place is so big," she said as they made their way back into the
main house. "It must be lonely for your mum to be here by
herself."

"I guess
she is used to it now. We used to do a lot of entertaining when my
dad was alive. It did not seem that big then, as we nearly always
had guests staying over."

"Maybe
you could have stayed here instead of getting your own place. After
all, there is enough room."

"Yeah…and I can just imagine you coming here to visit me,"
Akeem said so drily that Yemi smiled.