Chapter 30 TRUE CONFESSION

S E G U N

Having a child isn't peaches and cream.

It's hard fucking work.

You have to constantly think of that child before you do anything. Before you make any move.

No more drinking alcohol in the house, because you you don't want to see her mouth curl up in distaste, nor the slight, but very clear shake of her head.

No more using swear words, unless you want to hear a subtle disaproving cough, a reminder you're now co-habiting with an upright person.

No more standing to eat. Not unless you want to be nagged to get a seat.

I can't even leave the toilet seat up anymore when I'm not taking a piss or a dump, because in her words; 'That's how germs are spread.'

And we're not even sharing the same toilet.

There are a lot more no more's, where they came from, but if I were to continue, you'll only feel sorry for me.

Damn Dipo and his good training.

"Dad . . . " I'm wrenched from my sulky thoughts, as I peer into inquisitive sea green eyes "Where do babies come from?"

See what I'm dealing with?

How the heck do I answer that question?

My eyes bounce around the waiting room, looking for a distraction. Something, anything . . .

Just as I'm about giving up hope, they land on a woman tucked in the corner, balancing identical male and female twins on her laps. I watch as she bends down and coos into the more needy one's ear. Lines suddenly appear on her forehead as she digs inside her handbag and brings out a phone that's ringing shrilly. She lifts one hand to her ear and tucks a stray strand behind it, a coy smile creeping onto her face.

Ah! She must be talking to her husband . . . or a man.

Either way, she won't have edges anymore, with the way she keeps grabbing a hold of them, and twirling them around her fingers.

Without her mother's attention on her, the female twin becomes antsy. She scrunches up her face in anger, ready to go rouge with sobs, and so I watch in amusement as her mum intuitively comes back to the present, clutching the phone with her right hand, and rocking the sulky twin properly on her lap with the other. A feat she's adept at, because the sulky twin becomes pacified after a few seconds.

But one of them isn't done yet ----- the male twin. I watch with bated breath as he chases an invisible insect only he can see, lifting his chubby hands in the air, balancing precariously on the edge of his mother's lap, and giggling, as he claps his hands in delight. He mistakenly hits his twin on the cheek and she lets out a yelp. The spell is broken as the woman hastily cuts the call and puts her attention squarely on them.

She rights the happy twin on her lap, digs one hand into her bag and brings out a small packet of biscuit and hands it to the sulky twin, and I watch in awe, as the other twin's face scrunches up, and . . .

Shit!

Well, he's not so happy anymore.

A loud piercing wail ----- loud enough to burst my eardrums, is let loose from him.

My interest wanes, as I shake my head and muse to myself.

Women . . . keeping the family together since time in memorial.

My eyes stray from the not-so-picturesque family, and land on a child sitting not far from them. He stares intently at me, then he jerks his head towards Stacy.

At first I don't understand what he's trying to tell me, but when I look down at Stacy, I notice she's staring up at me expectantly, waiting for an answer to her question.

I gotta hand it to her ---- she's patient. Just like how she's been with me all this while when I've been wierd around her.

Thank goodness things are finally thawing between us.

So for lack of something to say, I put an arm around her and draw her close, then I look back at the nosy child in front of me, and arch a brow.

He leans forward and fixes his eyes solidly on me ---- the little brat.

That's when it dawns on me.

He heard Stacy's question, and he's waiting for my reply.

Not gonna happen . . . at least not with him as audience.

I dart my head to the side, just before I get to see the downward curve of his mouth.

Dissapointement doesn't look so good on a child.

But how the fuck do I tell Stacy the truth about where babies come from?

Do I tell her a man and a woman have to get naked first?

Highly innapropriate for a seven year old, surely.

Maybe I should tell her they fall from heaven?

Naah! That would also backfire on me.

Maybe if Eve were here, she'd save me as she's been doing this past one month with Stacy.

Sudden movement catches my eyes as I see Dipo standing up and peering into the round, see-through hole in the door leading into the operating room.

He lurches away from it, just as someone pushes the swing door out. A nurse bustles out, her hands filled with a tray of surgical pararphenelia.

I try, but fail, to look away from the cotton wool that's smeared bright red with . . .

Blood.

Ebere's blood.

And then suddenly, mayhem breaks out, as a shrill cry of pain rents the air.

Ebere.

And then another woman's voice pipes up. It's loud, but it's got control tattooed to her every word.

"Push . . . Puuush! I can see his head. It's crowning."

Instinctively, my head swings to Dipo. Dude's almost digging ridges into his palms.

I don't get his anxiety.

Probably would, if Eve was in the operating room instead of Ebere.

Some minutes pass and I'm almost drifting off, when the cry of a baby jolts me awake.

Just as I feel a tug on my arm, Eve bursts out through the door, smiling from ear to ear. She swings her eyes around the waiting room, passing over Stacy and I, and landing on Dipo, who's now crouched near the door, fingers embedded in his bushy hair.

He looks up just in time to see her smile widening. "It's a b ------"

But before she's able to finish, he jets up, and rushes off through the door Eve just came out from.

Eve's smile is getting to breaking point. If it gets any wider, the sides of her face will probably tear open.

She rushes to meet us and we meet her half way.

"It's a boy?" I ask, anticipating her words. She nods her head like a rag doll, and Stacy begins to laugh.

"I'm so happy aunty Eb has a boy." Then she disengages herself from my arm and moulds herself against Eve's waist. "I want a baby brother, mummy. I need to show him who's boss of the house."

I raise smiling eyes to Eve, but she turns her face away, but not before I get to see the look on her face.

She looks upset . . . and tired.

I realise she must be tired from playing nurse to Ebere, throughout the night. Must have taken it's toll on her.

When Dipo called to inform me Ebere was going into labour, I'd immediately called Eve, who informed me she was already by Ebere's side. So Stacy and I had gone there and thankfully . . .

Ebere's a mother now.

And Dipo's a dad for the second time around, 'cause even though Stacy's my real daughter, she got to be Dipo's first. Can never take that away from him.

My thoughts stray once again. It would be nice to see Eve pregnant for me. Her stomach swollen up with my child ---- our child.

My chest swells invisibly, as a foreign feeling lodges itself in my chest.

A girl.

I want a beautiful baby girl with shocks of curly hair and . . .

A tug on my hand brings me down to earth once more.

"Dad . . . I'm hungry." Stacy's beseeching eyes peer up at me, and I nod tightly, guilt and sadness flooding my entire being.

I'm sad because I wasn't present at her birth. Roxy made sure of that. She kept me away by lying. Now I'm just going to have to make it up to Stacy for all the lost years.

I look around, noticing Eve is nowhere to be seen. She probably went back into the operating room to be with Ebere.

That woman thinks she and I are in a running race for Eve's attention. Imagine her wanting only Eve in the operating room with her.

Wierd!

I stare down at Stacy who's begun tugging on my arm once more. "How does ice cream sound?"

She beams up at me. "Sounds like a plan."

I tighten my hold on her as we walk away.

_@_

E V E

Hours pass by, but Dipo refuses to leave Ebere's side. He keeps gazing at his son with an emotion closely resembling adoration. Aurey eventually prys him away physically from both mother and son, and cajoles him to go home and get some rest.

After a few minutes, I notice Stacy nodding off in the corner, so I tell Aurey to take her home. When he asks me to come home with them, I decline with a shake of my head, but I escort them to the car where he gently puts Stacy in the back seat and straps her up.

When he turns to give me a goodbye kiss, I turn away, and it lands on my neck. He says nothing, but gives me an odd look before getting in the car and driving away.

After king has been fed, he's taken to the nursery to give his mother some time to rest.

Yes, they named him King.

Now I don't know what a king looks like, but I sure know Ebere's King will look quite handsome in a few years time.

A few years time.

Where will I be in a few years time?

Childless . . . that's where.

I want a baby brother . . .

Tears spring to my eyes, as Stacy's words rise . . . and stay at the forefront of my mind.

Why?

Why is life so wicked to me?

Why do I have to face -----

"Eve . . . "

My thoughts get pushed to the side as I hastily wipe at my eyes, and turn round to face Ebere.

Strange!

She looks refreshed.

No one would know she just pulled a twelve hour all-nighter, giving birth.

She beckons on me and I rush to help her sit up.

With a plop, I sit close to her on the bed, and fix a tremulous smile on my face. "How does it feel?"

She shakes her head and her braids flip this way and that. "I feel relieved, I feel free . . . finally." She releases a sigh and smiles, but then her face turns serious as she gazes at me. "How does it feel?"

"To be an aunt, feels am-----"

"Not talking about that, Eve, and you know it." She moves a bit on the bed, most probably trying to get into a more comfortable position. Once that's done, she fixes her whole attention on me. "I've been watching you for a while now. The sadness in your eyes when you think no one's watching, the way you sit and gaze at nothing in particular, and when you smile, it never reaches your eyes. I see all that and more, and I've waited ---waited for you to come to me with whatever's making you so sad, but you never do."

I drop my gaze to the bedsheet and begin making swirls with my fingers. I can't look at her. I don't want her to see the truth in my eyes.

I've never really been able to hide anything from Ebere. We're best friends after all and we know each other inside out.

A tear drop slips from my eyes and falls onto the back of her hand, where some seconds ago, they'd been inching across the bedspread towards me.

"Did Segun do something to you? 'cause if he did, so help me God, I'll leave this bed right now and -----"

"It's not him!" I say vehemently. This time, I can't hold back the dam I've been trying so hard to stop. The tears flow freely down my cheeks and on to our clasped hands.

Still, I don't look up, not even when she takes me into her arms and holds me tightly. If anything, it increases in tempo.

I chuck a hand inside my mouth to stop myself, but it's no use.

I cry for the girl I was before.

I cry for my unborn child.

I just . . . can't stop crying.

"I . . . I." I lift my head up and flail my hands around, but the words refuse to come out. They're stuck in my throat.

Shame. That's what it's all about. I'm ashamed.

I'm ashamed to tell my best friend as result of the accident, I'll remain barren for the rest of my life.

Silence reigns like a thick wet blanket as I come out from my veil of tears.

Just like she hears my unspoken thoughts, she begins speaking. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Look at me, once I begin breastfeeding, my boobs are going to look like two deflated tyres, but I'm not ashamed. On the contrary, I have King as a beautiful gift."

"Really Ebere, there's no comparison. What happened to me and you are two totally different -----"

"Things ---- exactly! So something did happen?" She pierces me with a look and folds her arms over her protruding stomach.

I fleetingly wonder when it will go down. I hear it takes about a month, or more to reduce to a level where people won't think you're still pregnant.

I could have been like this, I could have . . .

"Fess up! And don't even think of leaving anything out." She snaps her fingers in my face, elicitating a laugh out of me.

"I was pregnant before." I begin.

She rolls her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

I sigh and get up from the bed, backing her in the process. "When I came out from the coma after the accident, the . . . the doctor called me to his office and said . . . he said."

I turn round and face her square in the face. "He said, and I quote;  'you'll never be able to give birth again, at least not in this lifetime.'

When I'm done, I drop my gaze to the floor.

The silence that follows my confession is damning.

I know she'll definitely tell me off, so I wait for her to chastise me. To scold me in her usual abrasive manner, and . . .

Clap! Clap! Clap!

I lift my head up and watch, as a sparkle gets ignited in her eyes. And then she lets loose a string of words that have goose pimples erupting all over my skin.

"I know. I've been waiting for you to tell me this for almost one full year now."