Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Songs for this chapter are:

9 lives - Asa

New year - Asa

Ife - Asa

Love for you - Wande

Two years later

Cassandra

Balancing a tray of empty breakfast dishes on one palm, the sadness in my heart was soothed by the magnificent lava-colored sky visible as far as the eye could see.

Sun rays fanned out from the golden rim separating the earth and sky and turned the blanket of fog on the lake a glowing shade of pink.

I couldn't be more thankful for the location I had chosen to build my restaurant. There were times when the view of my guests sitting at round tables, shades by colorful green-and-white striped umbrellas, enjoying a postcard view of the lake had uplifted my spirit.

The view of the lake sparkling in the noonday sun like a million blue sapphires on other afternoons was simply therapeutic. But today, I wished my spirits matched the brilliance of the day.

It had been a month since Mrs. Jones kicked the bucket.

If there was one thing that made me appreciate Mustafa so much, it was his passion to love hard and give people chances every single time. His only flaw was probably that he was too good to be real. Like an angel on earth.

Letting Mrs. Jones into our lives was a decision that I was happy to have consented to. At first, I was unsure about her. Even the advice sister Yemisi had given us contained so many terms and conditions that I wasn't even sure I could abide by if I were in the same shoes but Mrs. Jones proved herself worthy indeed.

Mrs. Jones maintained her boundaries throughout her stay. She would come by on Mondays and Tuesdays as stipulated in the contract with a basket of freshly baked cookies and a jug of milk for the kids.

She would even bake a few extra and reserve them for me and whenever I asked her why she baked for me, "This is my offering to you for letting me in. Allow me to express my gratitude, " was the reply she would give.

She did it religiously. She took nothing for granted and she regarded favors as something that ought to be repaid in dozens of folds if possible. She was so sweet to the children and treated them like jewels. Even as her attachment to the kids heightened by the weeks, she never came on a day that she wasn't supposed to come.

Farida loved her so much and I loved to see the way the kids had accommodated her. It was very natural as though, there has always been a space reserved for her in our lives. There was nothing to suspect about Mrs. Jones. She was a meek person.

The icing on the cake, what made me love her so much was the fact that she didn't regard our granting her favor as something she had to do for Dan. She was wise enough to know that it wasn't about Dan anymore. It was about us and the huge favor we had done for her and it showed in her actions.

She never treated Farida like she was Dan's child and because she owed it to Dan to take care of her. She treated her like she was ours and we had given her a golden opportunity. Something she didn't merit. Maybe that was what I even feared the most from the very beginning but she gave me no reason to be scared.

As the days rolled by, I understood Dan's sentiments a lot better. Mrs. Jones knew how to mind her business very well and that was what she did during those times when I was suspicious of her. It was the fear in her eyes that made me interpret it as something else but maybe all along as she saw Dan and me in the fields together, she was wishing someone would come to her rescue too.

I wished to know how she got to be a slave to the loan shark but she never told me about it. For the two years in which she stayed in our lives, it was wonderful. We weren't only doing her a favor, we were doing ourselves and the children a huge favor too. Our children were surrounded by all the love that could get.

My mother was alive even if she never gained her ability to speak. I had the opportunity of taking care of her like I wished to and spending all the time that I couldn't with her for years. We were healing together so it was a lot easier to go through that journey.

Her mental health was improving and it became well enough for her to accommodate her grandchildren. Whilst Mrs. Jones and my mother took care of my children, Mustafa and I were working on our individual lives. Aspects of our lives that excluded our children.

We were able to create a good amount of time for our businesses after a long while of letting them suffer. Mustafa's gemstone ventures started to blossom, triple the times that it was before its near-downfall. It did so well that he got mentioned amongst the top ten most influential people across the globe on the Forbes list.

The best part of his restoration was his father coming back from Iran to reconcile with him. It was a beautiful thing to see and I loved that for him. I knew he was going to forgive his dad but I didn't know it was going to come with a condition. I could remember that day like it was the previous day.

"Papa, if you don't forgive Sandra then you have no business forgiving me. You can say that I have been bewitched by the women species or ifrits as you like to call them but it is what I wish for?"

Mustafa gave his best imitation of a cold look without giving his father any reason why I deserved his forgiveness. With an audible groan at the back of his throat that sounded like the roar of a lion, he nodded and forgave me.

"I'm only forgiving you because I wish to make peace with my son."

I smirked. Friendship was a wonderful privilege.

Success was indeed a magnet; for friends and foes likewise. I felt a lot less guilty knowing that if it wasn't for that day we sent the president of Somalia running, Mustafa would have had nothing left of the company to hold on to. Restoration was all he deserved and he got all of it.

As for me, I was simply healing. Healing and rejuvenating myself and from every toxic thing. Time made a good difference. It was of the essence to my pain because I did get a lot better. One thing I learned was that there was no way a captive could be set free if he didn't know that he was in chains.

I didn't continue with the bags and shoe business even though I had a passion for it because I had created it by stealing.

I wanted to start afresh. I wanted to make my own money and rebuild the bags and shoe business later in the future. Thankfully, my passion was versatile so I could venture into something else. I enjoyed cooking and my skill was pristine. I was able to move out of my sister's house and relocate to another place to start my food business in an elite place, thanks to the help of my brother Alexander and my sister Yemisi who helped me raise capital and find a good place.

The work I had put in two years was undeniably going to pay in many more years to come because I was investing to build my business so I could provide luxury for my children on days when Mustafa would be absent.

My children would not grow up to lack anything so long as we could afford it. Mustafa and I were doing well as parents. I had to strive harder so I could grow other businesses in which I was passionate about.

The day Mrs. Jones had died, was very normal. Everyone was happy. Probably a bit too much until we heard the news. She wasn't ill nor victimized by any form of accident. She simply slept and never woke up. It was a peaceful journey back home. No regrets or pain left behind. If it wasn't for her presence, it would have been hard for us to focus on other aspects of our lives.

We simply wished she had stayed a little longer to make our children's childhood bliss.

Farida is five years old now. Ahmed and Youssef, seven. They were happy children and had so many photos together with Mrs. Jones. We were going to show it to them when they were much older.

I loved my little princess a lot in particular. She welcomed people easily and loved to play a lot. My children were my world.

I felt a jolt and then the tray flew from my hand and landed with a deafening crash. Glass shattered. Silverware clanked on the stone floor. My cheeks flushed as I started at Mustafa who had just walked into my restaurant.

Maybe it was the suddenness of his arrival and the absence from reality that made me completely unaware of the fact that I was still holding a tray full of plates but I sure did feel embarrassed now.

"Damn. I'm sorry for startling you that much, " he scanned the broken dishes, a look of realization replacing his blank stare.

"No. No. I was thinking too deeply. It's not your fault." I felt my cheeks warm as I imagined him staring at me already.

I reached for the long broom by the counter and started to pack the broken pieces together and disposed of them into the bin. "What brings you here today?" I asked after a few minutes when I felt okay enough to look him in the eye.

"Well... I'm here to eat spaghetti."

I laughed so hard till I held on to my stomach dearly.

"And...you can't cook that yourself?"

"Pfft. You know what I mean by that though. I want to eat the same spaghetti we argued about after we won the dance competition at school."

"But you said my cooking wasn't great, " I teased.

"Don't be petty, girl. You are talking like I didn't enjoy your meals when we were married."

I blushed. I was genuinely glad that we had gotten to this stage. Where we could talk about anything with nothing unwanted standing in between. Liberation in its actual meaning.

"Well, I'm afraid I would have to decline your request today, " I took off my apron after washing my hands and settled on the empty seat by the table which he sat.

"Did your mother set you up on another blind date?"

"Yes, " I sighed. My mother had taken it upon herself long ago to find me a man because she felt it was her fault that none of my relationships had worked. One thing she has refused to accept however was that I didn't need a man.

"Cassie you—"

"This is the last date I'm going to. Don't worry about it. I already told her before accepting to go. None of the men she has set me up with pleased me one bit."

"Was that what you were thinking about when I walked in? You looked very sad."

"No. I was thinking about Mrs. Jones."

He heaved a sigh and reached for my hand, holding it. The warmth it provided did a lot to my heart in terms of calmness.

"Farida made mention of her today. It was so random, " he smiled. "It made my heart flutter. We made the best decision, Cassie."

"You were at the house?" I was surprised.

"No, I just stopped by her school to drop midday snacks." quickly I remembered that I had dropped her at school in the morning. "I talked to her for a little while. Her class teacher told me that she fights with one of her classmates a lot though."

"Hm. Maybe the classmate isn't being nice to her seeing that it's only one and not many."

"Exactly what I thought as well. Farida is a friendly girl."

"I would talk to her when she comes back from school anyway."

"Did you read today's papers?" he asked with a sudden tone of urgency.

"No. Why?"

"It gave the best news I've read in a long while, " he smiled cheekily. It was really cute. "Zoe is married to a popular attorney from Uruguay! You needed to have seen both of them standing side by side. The couple exudes so much power and elegance. Narcissism even. She got what she deserved."

The statement, 'she got what she deserved' would have been a good one if he didn't make use of the word 'narcissism'. It gave it a double meaning.

"Wow. This plan worked beyond my expectations. I'm so excited to hear about this. I hope she lives a happy life in Uruguay and never has a reason to come back."

"Me too. I'm happy her life turned out to be this way. At least there won't be a need to feel guilty."

I chuckled.

"I'm so proud of you, Mustafa. You inspire me a lot. Thank you for every single thing. For giving chances and showing love always, "

Saying things out of the blues was always the best thing to do.

"I'm happy I have been able to grow along the way and learn a thing or two. I will never trust anyone easily anymore till they prove themselves trustworthy but I will always love people and never withhold my compassion. It is the wheel that directs my life."

"I'm happy you learned that. So at least no one takes you for a fool. I mean, I'm not sure there's ever a thing as loving foolishly because love in itself doesn't make sense sometimes but trusting foolishly is a thing and as one of the most influential people in the world, foolishness is not a legacy you should leave behind."

"Thank you, my friend."

It was nothing but bliss to hear the originality in which he had used to call me that. Just like the good old days. It was an amazing blessing that I never appreciated enough when I had it.

But life gave room for imperfections and second chances.

We hugged each other.

"Can I stop by next week for spaghetti?" he picked up his coat, ready to leave.

"If you come with a lot of money, sure you can."

"Good luck on your date."

"Thank you very much."

His wishing me luck was of immense importance because I needed it. I hoped it would work.

He left.

***

The venue for the date was a small Japanese restaurant. Udon was the main dish on the menu to be served. It was the restaurant's specialty as seen in the poster.

I was delighted. That alone had set me in a good, hopeful mood. This person knew me well enough to know that I loved Japanese food.

I walked into the restaurant, the enriching smell of noodles and home blessing my nostrils tremendously. I looked to the right side just in time to see a man waving at me.

He was my date.

My date.

Holy Moly. I gasped. How the hell did my mum set me up with this guy?! I was so shocked that I had to laugh. Then I figured that he was probably one of those guys who dropped flowers at my house regularly.

But...it was only Dan that dared to do that so how did my mom know this guy?!

I wasn't mad but I just wondered how my mother was able to organize a fun date for me for the first time.

I walked quickly to his table and planted my derriere on the empty seat. He gave his usual jovial smile that I admired and dropped a bouquet of tulips on the table. What was with this guy and tulips? He had done the same in high school after one of my dance practices but he was not as annoying as the other guys. Once I told him to stop sending flowers, he stopped.

My mind could not help but go back to that dangerous day at the garden, those hopeless tulips and how I had wanted to toss them away when Dan kept plucking them from their roots and sending them to me.

I grabbed the bouquet this time and brought it closer to my nostrils.

"Ah..." I moaned and said in every sense of the word. "What a breathe of fresh air."

THE END