Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Melvin was a nice and fine gentleman. He was not miserly with his love and money. He showered Monica with plenty of love and gifts that left her giddy and emotional. This always left Monica in constant daydreaming of him. Monica’s smile returned, and so did her chirpiness and verve. There was a sudden spring in her step, and swiftness in the way she talked, thought and did things. Melvin always sent her sweet and romantic texts, and Monica’s phone was always beeping from them. Most times, he sent Monica sweet scented rose flowers before she got to her office. This show of love made Monica swoon at Melvin’s gallantry and swiftly paled Richard’s love and memories into nothingness.

Every weekend they lazed about. They visited different zoos and went to cinemas and saw interesting movies together. Most nights, they ate out, having nice dinners in fine hotels, sitting out at the balcony, looking at the gleaming pools, the soft breeze blowing on their faces. All these as they sipped chilled wine and forked delicious foods into their mouths, and watched the stars as they glided in the sky. They went to night clubs as well, dancing and clasping in each other’s arms, rocking to the beat of the funky music in slow motions, and staring into each other’s eyes; with Melvin running his hand on Monica’s well-laid plaits, whose ends were tightened in curly kinks. Then they end up in bed, cuddling in each other’s arms after some good rounds of mind-blowing sex.

Helen was overly delighted for her daughter’s newfound love, happiness and life. Monica was having fun and loving again. Her thinking that men were all the same was beginning to disappear. Her doubts and fears about Melvin’s love had also disappeared as well. In the first week of their relationship, Monica had told her she was still suspicious of Melvin’s actions. There appeared to be some traces of affectation, smarminess and histrionics about his love. Even in the way he did things. There was too much enthusiasm and willingness to impress her that appeared mawkish. Now that as well had slowly moved from acceptance into trust, and into love. She was excited for them. She hoped for the best for Monica; the happily ever after.

So Helen allowed her daughter the space to revel in her newfound feeling; just as she waited for the right time to ask her some questions about Melvin. After a sizeable time, which in her own thinking, she considered was adequate, she called Monica into her bedroom one night, after they had had supper.

‘I am excited about your relationship with Melvin. I see he makes you really happy. Look at you, you now look like a girl reborn,’ Helen said, smiling at Monica.

‘Mom, Melvin makes me really happy. I am glad he came my way, and that you helped me in the decision to give him a chance,’ Monica said.

‘I understand exactly how you feel now. I felt the same when I fell in love with your father. That loving hombre of a man swept me off my feet. You see, nobody plans to fall in love, but we just fall in love nonetheless,’ Helen said, smiling.

‘That’s true, Mom. Melvin makes me think that Richard’s love was nothing. In fact, that it was gibberish. There I was sulking and grieving he left me for that Judas of a friend,’ Monica said, her voice rising unconsciously.

‘Yes. It is important we learn that what’s not ours is not ours, and that our best days are always ahead of us. We can never know what life has in store for us. But for Jane taking Richard from you, it was you who made the mistake of exposing Richard too much to your friends and trusting them. It was wrong of you to have shared your chair with a woman whose buttocks are larger than yours,’ Helen said, making a light pause and letting the silence linger. ‘But I have called you to my room not for the past. I have called you to ask you a few questions about Melvin,’ she said finally, breaking the stillness. Monica who sat hunched on the chair, shifted in the chair and sat upright. ‘In as much as you’re having a good time with Melvin, it is also important you begin to find out some things about him and the direction of this relationship. It is what every wise woman would do. A wise man once said that when the purpose of something is not defined, then abuse becomes inevitable. You must begin to know the purpose of this relationship. What plans does Melvin have for it? You have to know if he is married or not. If he is in another relationship or has an ex-girlfriend that won’t let things stay the way they are. Who and where are his parents? Where do they live? Ask to meet with his family. Learn also if he would be ready to leave the life and comfort of London and stay with you here when it eventually comes to marriage. It’s stupid to treat these important things so irreverently.’

Monica nodded her head slowly, and cringed at her stupidity. Though, she had had some of these things in mind to ask Melvin, but she had always felt she needed to wait for the right time. But when was the right time? The right time is the time we do the right things. The questions that her mother had raised were unsettling. But they were important for the survival and definition of their relationship. And she would no longer procrastinate about them. She would start tomorrow when they have dinner in the usual hotel.

‘Thank you, Mom,’ Monica said. ‘I shall do as you have said. I think you are right about these things.’ Helen smiled softly at her. She rose from the bed and kissed Monica on the cheek, and bade her good night. Monica walked out of the room to her bedroom, her thoughts in a scramble.

Monica’s make-up that night was heavy. Her pink dress too, was a bit loosed on her lissome body. She talked less, stared less at Melvin and behaved far too methodically about everything she did. They sat at the balcony, as Monica nibbled slowly at the chicken while Melvin clamped his in his teeth, sucking out the tasty bone marrows. Melvin watched the stars while Monica watched him. She was filled with an unusual apprehension. The thought of how to fling all her questions at Melvin made her woozy. The fear of the unexpected clutched her throat.

‘You look unusually cold and taciturn tonight. I hope you’re all right?’ Melvin asked her, swishing the wine in the tall and slender glass.

‘Of course, I am all right,’ Monica said, cringing at her lie. She wished she could tell him the truth boldly, that she was not all right. She wished that Melvin could use the magic wand and read her mind and begin to answer all her questions. She was afraid to irritate him; to pressure him, to lose him. She was madly in love with him. She stared at him again, willing the words to come out, but her throat felt parched and clogged with lumps. She reached out for the tall glass of wine and sipped the red wine slowly.

They left the balcony moments later, with a large chunk of Monica’s chicken still on the plate. They entered the hotel’s room and Melvin held Monica’s waist and pressed her to his body. Monica smelled the alcohol in his breath. Melvin kissed her slowly and pulled at her red, lacy underwear. Monica’s breath increased as her hand travelled to Melvin’s hairy chest. She could feel the sweats that patched his underarms. They sprawled on the bed, as Melvin undressed her, with Monica unbuttoning his billowy shirt, stiff with starch. They lay bare on the soft bed, panting. As Melvin made to penetrate, Monica wriggled out of position and sat up on the bed, breathing hard; her hands covering her face.

‘What is it?’ Melvin asked frustratingly, in the heat of passion.

‘We shall not be having sex tonight,’ Monica said; it was the first time she had felt so detached from him; her thoughts were unsettled.

‘Why?’ Melvin asked, wide-eyed.

‘Because every day is not Christmas and we need to talk,’ Monica said whimsically. ‘What’s your plan for this relationship, are you married or not?’ she asked him finally. Melvin withdrew from her slowly, as he watched his penis shrivel quickly like an old waterless yam. He was taken aback by the question, and he wondered why Monica had to choose this moment for such a sensitive talk.

‘Is this why you denied me sex?’ he asked her frustratingly. Monica remained silent, as she watched his face for any nuance of expression that would confirm her fears about him. But his face was blank. That left her confused. ‘I have a glorious plan for this relationship, to take it to another level. And I am not married. If that’s what you want to know,’ Melvin said, looking up at Monica’s face. Monica’s face wreathed with a beautiful and satisfying smile that made her heavy make-up gaudy and somewhat hilarious.

‘Are you serious about what you said? Or, are you merely saying it to please me?’ Monica said, drawing closer to him.

‘No. I am saying this from the depths of my heart. I love you. My parents have been on my neck to take a wife. I feel the time is now right,’ he said. Monica’s eyes twinkled with excitement and her heart bubbled with joy.

‘Tell me about your parents,’ Monica said, ceasing the occasion. Melvin smiled.

‘My parents are simple people. They are retired civil servants. They live on pension. When the time is right, I shall take you to the Island to meet them. But now we need to talk about ourselves,’ Melvin said. Monica clasped her hands and stared at him with a smile.

‘What do you want to know about us?’ she asked him excitedly.

‘I want to know if we are ready for the next level. For me, I feel it in my heart that I am. But I cannot say the same about you,’ Melvin said, as he stared at Monica’s nimble and cone-shaped breasts.

‘If the next level is marriage,’ Monica said, ‘then it’s you who’s not ready. You do not marry a woman based on feelings alone. It’s not foolproof. You have to be sure, ready, and prepared mentally and financially.’

‘Then I am right about the feeling,’ Melvin said, making a brief pause. ‘Monica, will you marry me?’ Monica’s eyes widened theatrically.

‘No, no,’ she said tearfully. ‘You cannot propose to me in this manner. Where is my gold ring?’ she asked him, hugging him, kissing him. ‘Yes, Melvin. I’ll marry you!’ she screamed. Melvin unclasped the excited Monica and climbed down from the bed. He held out his car keys to her face.

‘This proposal was ill-planned. It was impromptu. But I’ll still do it the right way. Take my car keys in place of the ring. I am proposing with my car.’ Monica took it from him and jumped at him, sobbing. Tears of joy plastered her face.

‘I don’t want your car. I just want my ring,’ she mumbled to him, kissing him.

They lay on the bed, clasped in each other’s arms. Monica was talking and giggling excitedly. But her voice soon trailed off into a moaning of wild ecstasy, as Melvin thrusted slowly and deep into her.