FOLAKE - Adding Up the Signs

Work, work, work!!!

I wish there were thirty more hours in a day for me to get all my work done. Being a hotshot music exec was no easy task but I know that one day my work will pay off and maybe I wouldn’t have to work as much. And hopefully when that time comes, I’ll be able to focus on building a family. Right now my focus was on making sure this gospel concert in England goes off without a hitch.

The thought of England had me thinking about my errant husband. That chocolate piece of hunk hasn’t called me back yet. I hope he’s okay. I had planned to surprise him with a visit but I got pulled into another project that would be taking me to LA for a while so I was going to have to hold off on those plans. That also meant having to appoint someone else to handle specific details about the concert in London. Being the perfectionist that I am, I wanted to be there but except I could get cloned like Dolly-the-sheep that was not going to be happening anytime soon. I had to send my ever trusty assistant, Michelle. She was my right hand woman. I knew she could get the job done but there was really nothing like getting your hands dirty yourself. Oh well… such is life. You make do with what you can.

Time to get out of bed. I wanted to try to make the yoga class today at the gym before work today. Hopefully that would keep me at peace before I have to call Dayo. It is so baffling to me that he hasn’t returned my call. If anything, this was lending urgency to my relocation plans. The chirp of my mobile phone broke into my thoughts…  and speak of the devil…

“Why are you just returning my call?”

Pissed was an understatement for how I was feeling at the present moment. For some strange reason, it was getting increasingly difficult to reach my man. And I know that when things all of a sudden start to seem strange, there is a not-so strange reason behind it. Mama didn’t raise no fool. And I guess part of my discontent was the call I had received from a girlfriend of mine who had mentioned in passing that she saw my husband at Nando’s with some chic. She said it so innocently but you could tell she was fishing for some scandal. Ever the consummate professional I brushed it aside as nothing and continued on with our girl talk.

“Folake I was busy. What’s up with the query?” His rather abrupt and harsh response to me had my head spinning. I was fixing to become that ghetto chic that everyone can't stand.

“Me, query?” I laughed in his ear. “Am I not your wife? Do I not have the right to ask you why it is that I’ve called you several times and yet you don’t deem it fit to return my call until almost two days later?” I hissed.

“Omofolakemi, se mo so fun e pe mo wa bodyguard ni? Ma gbe gbogbo nonsense yen ti o n se ni Atlanta si mi le ti” (Omofolakemi,, did I tell you I’m looking for a bodyguard? Don’t bring all that nonsense you’re doing in Atlanta and put that in my ear)

I was quite baffled at his response. I guess you could call this our first real fight because taking into account how long we knew each other, there just wasn’t enough time for us to fight. Fight over what? But I guess mama was starting to get a little territorial and a little frustrated at the present situation. I wanted to be with my husband. I wanted to be able to lie in bed with him all night and wake up to his morning kisses. I wanted to feel the stubble of his morning growth graze me as I tried to snuggle that much more into him. I ached for him in the deepest places. I guess there’s a change that comes over you when you’re married. There’s a deeper level of intimacy that you reach. What else could explain this ache… this irritation… this frustration… and Heaven forbid! These tears that were forming. But ever the prideful girl I was sure to not convey all this mushiness to him over the phone. He was in the wrong and instead of him to apologise, he wanted to take offense. Well not me and him… not on this day! I wiped my tears.

“Dayo” I snapped back at him. “All that Yoruba you’re speaking to me is rubbish.”

I got up to pace around my room. I needed to expel this energy somehow. I really did need to get to this yoga class today! It was a beautiful day outside and there were lots of things that I could be doing to enjoy it and this conversation was not going in the direction that I wanted.

“How the hell can I call you, as your wife, and I don’t get a call back for almost two days?”

Silence.

I took a calming breath. “Dayo, I didn’t call you to fight.” I spoke a little softer now. “I’ve been putting some things in place and I think it’s time for me to move to England.”

“No.”

I refused to be intimidated by the conviction in that word. It seemed so final. He must think he's running this show by himself. I smiled as I regained my centre. He’s a guy. They’re all babies inside and they like to act out. He will have to get used the idea and he’ll have to love it. As a matter of fact, when I move to England, I’m going to stop taking my pills. Dayo needs a little guidance I think. He’s yet to learn what marriage is all about but I will be sure to teach him.

“D, I’m sorry to hear you say that but it’s final. I’m moving.” 

Feeling more at ease, I reclined in my chaise, admiring the smoothness of my legs as it caught the morning sunlight. Today might be a shorts and heels day.

“Baby, I think it's best for us." I said with syrupy sweetness. I regained control and with as much conviction as I could muster, I told him what the deal was.

"I was going to surprise you but something came up at work so I can’t come now but I will be there shortly!”

I hung up the phone.


(c) Diamond Hawk