Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Songs for the chapter are:

Lost... - Andy Mineo

You're faithful (to me) - Lecrae

Heaven up Above - Hulvey

Forever - 1k phew

Take me as I am - Lecrae

Cassandra

Light finds its way to my screwed-shut visionless vision of a thorough slumber. It was infuriating having it pinch my eyelids so painfully, each sting adding to the throbbing of my already aching head. I tried not to open my eyes but it was as though the light had caught me, knowing it had disrupted my peace so pretense was not needed.

So, I opened my eyes slowly. I always ensured to sleep with the curtains closed but I drank too much last night, feeling too heavy with only the thought of jumping into bed, major on my mind. I was never the one to drink heavily but my elder brother dared me last night, promising me that the alcohol wasn't too alcoholic and he made me drink ten whole shots.

Pfft.

Who the hell was he kidding? Thanks to him now, I have a splitting headache.

Lord, forgive me.

Instinctively, I reached for my phone by the bedside table because I remember dropping it there after sending my mother a text last night. I was hoping I hadn't sent the text to the wrong person though or that I didn't type complete gibberish but I was really curious to know if I'd gotten any reply.

I scrolled through my chunk of unanswered messages and clicked on my mother's once I saw it. With fast fingers and a faster heart, I opened it. My heartbeat slowed down its pace as I became fully awake now, gazing into the screen.

I didn't know how to feel when I saw that I had gotten no reply from her.

I furrowed my eyebrows, unable to resist the urge to wonder why. I didn't know my mother. We never text each other. The only reason I had her phone number was because I had to have it. Especially during the period when I was pregnant with Farida and was making preparation for the grand opening ceremony of my bags and shoe business in partnership with my brother, Alexander.

Then, he wasn't aware of the immense hatred I had for her so, in oblivion, he insisted that I would be the one to invite her to the party. I was pregnant and couldn't go all the way to her place so he made me text her. When I told him that I didn't have her number saved on my phone, he looked at me as though I wore spaghetti for clothes.

"You don't have your mother's phone number?!" he asked in disbelief like that was the biggest abomination of all.

But ever since that day when I was mandated to text her out of my own will, we never talked so I wouldn't know if she regularly replied fast or not.

Still, I couldn't avoid overthinking it a little. What if she was done trying to make peace with me? Did she have the right to make that decision as a mother?

Maybe she did.

I pushed her away every single time she tried to show up. She didn't exist to me and she had truly made sure not to exist because throughout my stay at sister Yemisi's, the court trial, the face-off with the president, my near-death experience at the hospital, I didn't hear any news about her or about her trying to show up and truthfully right now...

It bothered me.

It would have been the biggest facade if anyone or even myself had assumed or predicted that I would ever miss my mother or wish for her to care about me but at this very moment, there was no use hiding from what I was feeling.

Quickly, I stood up from my bed only after seeing seventy dissolving stars, wobbling instead of walking through the slippery, obnoxious tiled floor and with my head threatening to bob off my neck of course.

I was hungover for sure but I was grateful for being able to leave my room regardless. I was even more thankful that I didn't have to climb any stairs. With my phone in hand, I walked towards the living room, where I knew my sister would be if I had woken up early that is.

I tried my best not to drag my feet as I walked but I was too scared that I would slip and fall since the floors weren't having it nice with me. I was also too lazy to adjust my nightie because of how ridiculous it looked on my body but maybe because my hands felt like a log of wood, and my phone, like a hammer.

I won't ever forgive brother David for doing this to me.

My feet stopped moving when I got to the dining table and I saw sister Yemisi scooping ice-cream cake from a mug with Mustafa on the other side of the table, dressed in a different suit from the one I saw yesterday. They were deeply engrossed in their conversation.

Wait...was it him I was seeing or I was still asleep? I cleaned my eyes carefully for a minute with the back of my hands but still saw him, clear as day.

Somehow, they sensed I was there. Maybe I was being too noisy. I wasn't even fully aware of my state. Drunk Cassandra was that version of myself I would never like to relive again.

"Thank Goodness, you're finally awake!" my sister exclaimed, with a smile on her face as she placed the knife gently on the table. Mustafa adjusted his suit.

"Yes. What is he doing here today?" I pointed towards him and I regretted doing it. I could swear my hands were going to fall off.

And why is he acting like a nervous young lad in search of a job, hoping he would pass his interview?

"I...came to take the children out and I wanted to seek your permission before taking them."

"Umm...you saw them at the party yesterday didn't you? aarh, " I yawned in between. "Aren't you tired from all the rough play they engaged you in?"

"The party ended by nine so I had enough time to drive home, sleep and come here today," he explained.

Nine? Hmm. I could remember staggering back to the house, leaving everyone else whilst I retired to bed. That must mean that I slept off probably around eight thirty-five. I brought my phone to my face, to check the time in which I sent the text last night and just as I had approximated, it was so.

From what I recollect while I used to live with my mum since I had no option, she always retired to bed by ten-thirty only after ensuring that we were all asleep of course. I remembered because I loathed having to see her face every night. I loathed ten-thirty. I didn't know if she still followed that routine but if she did, then she should have replied to me since I texted way before then. The best way to be sure of anything that pertained to my mother was to ask Yemisi.

"Sis, does mum reply to messages on time?" I ignored Mustafa. Not willingly though but because what bothered me right now was far greater than his overall presence here and his reason.

"Mum?" she repeated. She didn't try to hide her shock. mum as far as I'd mandatorily made my siblings understand was now an archaic term and was fastly becoming prohibited from use but I blinked, begging her silently to just answer my question first and she got the message. "Mum replies messages fast. It's even a surprise that she does, " she answered.

"Really?" my cause for fear became affirmed and it was of no doubt that I was worried. "Then I have to go and see her right now."

"Are you perhaps still drunk or hungover? I could have Ebun prepare you some good hangover soup."

"I'm hungover with a blasting headache but I swear, I'm fully aware of what I'm saying right now. I feel a strong need to see her, " I promised.

There was decorum for a good moment. I watched her face very closely. Relief was all I saw as I watched her shoulders come down. She was glad that I was finally doing this. I could tell that she had been waiting and hoping. She never for once prompted me or tried to talk to me about it. She left it all for me to decide but it was still clear that she wished it would happen, that this day would come.

"Would you need anyone to follow you? Him perhaps?" she pointed at Mustafa. I'd forgotten him for a brief moment.

"Initially, I wished you would come with the kids for the outing I planned today but that can always wait," he said with utmost concern.

I didn't even have an answer to that because I still wished we would discuss our plans towards co-parenting officially. I breathed heavily. I was worried about him.

"You can take them with you. I would like to see my mother alone. Have all the fun with the kids."

"The plan was to take you along so we could talk." he clarified nervously.

He swallowed too often. His throat worked excessively, it made me wonder if it made him feel nauseous at all.

"About?"

"Co-parenting."

Hmm. So this is why he's been fretting ever since. I started to feel bad for making the topic something to be afraid of and that was far from my intentions. Maybe, I should just tell him the truth. What I've felt for the longest time about this for the sake of saving him the stress.

"To be very honest Mustafa, Concerning this co-parenting issue, it's you I've been waiting for. I was waiting till you would be comfortable enough to come by which is why I wished we would take it step by step and maybe seek advice from a specialist. I've been very greedy. Stupidly wishing even that you would still be willing to father our children dating back to the day of our divorce but I had to wait to know if you wish the same thing as well and you do. If you're waiting for my consent, there's no need. I'm ready now that you are. Yesterday took me by surprise and it gave me an answer I didn't think would come so early and it's that you and I are good to go. Both as parents and maybe...as the friends we used to be."

***

My sister's Tesla was speedy. Just like I'd wanted it. Throughout my drive on the expressway, I dialed my mother's mobile number, endlessly like a maniac. The robotic voice telling me that her line was switched off was all I heard but I kept dialing, hoping that by each faint ringing, her voice would come to my hearing.

All I wanted was to have a conversation with her. One I could always have at any other day so why was I so scared that I couldn't reach her right now? Maybe she was just busy? Or she didn't want to be disturbed?

No.

This wasn't a feeling I could ignore for some reason. My mind was reeling and I couldn't help but think of a few movies I had watched where the protagonists lost their loved ones before they could have that hard-hitting conversation they always longed to have. I was praying that that wouldn't be my story.

Call me a psycho but that was how I felt. I was paranoid and each of my thoughts boiled down to the fact that my mother might have been indeed, dead. I drove faster, my body wired with trepidation and anxiety.

I hated my mother but I don't think I ever wished that she would die.

You never wished anyone death though. Not even Dan. Do you remember how anxious you were when you witnessed the executioner electrocute him to death? So what makes you think you really need to have that conversation with your mum or that you now love her?!

Not today Satan. Darn it!

I made a U-turn, packing at the house I was sure she lived in. Our family house. I hadn't stopped by in the longest time so I wouldn't be sure if she had relocated. I never bothered to enquire about my mother from my siblings for years so I wouldn't know.

Still, I stopped the car and alighted from it.

I tugged my beanie back on as I approached my family house, sighing into the slowly cooling air. The wind rustled the trees leaning over the steep roads, the sun casting a long shadow at my feet. In the distance, the sun was setting over the Mainland bridge, painting the sky in oranges and pinks and yellows.

I climbed the stairs, got to the door, and knocked. One time. Two. Three. Then I lost count. I kept knocking like I was going to get a response soon but nothing. Nothing but inimical silence.

"Mum!" I called out nervously. I still got no response. Maybe she was asleep. So, I reached for the knob with the intent to push it open with all orderliness but the knob didn't give me a view of the interior. Only the same brown door in front of me.

Why was the door locked?!

Now, I was freaking scared.

I thought of trying the back door but it didn't seem like there was a use. The serenity that the house emitted proved to me that there was no one inside. Even if she was being attacked by some psychopath, the silence could not be this deafening.

Where's my mother?! Where else could she be if she's not at home? I had no idea. I didn't even know what job my mother was involved in. I didn't know where else to search for her.

Are you sure you don't know?

Then a certain place came to my mind as soon as I had that thought. I hadn't seen her there before. At least not very often to have it registered somewhere in my mind but still, it was a possibility and the sudden realization of it sent shivers down my spine.

My father's graveyard.

***

Exodus 14:14 - "The Lord will fight for you and you will hold your peace."