“Cassandra I think we should leave now.”
Muna quickly let go of me, looking like a little boy who was caught stealing biscuits.
He mumbled an apology and went after Mirabel who grabbed the hem of her gown and stomped out, my Mum’s face was burning with anger and mine with shame. She held my elbow and guided me towards the exit where our car was packed, I felt like a petulant child, why did I allow myself to be caught in Muna’s scandalous mess?
When we got into the car, Mum drove off without a word. You could actually slice the tension in the car with a table knife; I couldn’t take the cold silence much longer.
“Mum, I know I blew it back there, look I’m sorry”
“You blew it? You blew it? Heeeehh!! Oh yeah you blew it alright. Mirabel is one of my most ardent insanely rich clients; didn’t you see him with her? Was there no other male there that you could lock tongues with? Haba Cassandra, Nsi do enyem?”
I felt so bad, I had just found my Mum and I didn’t want some two timing, scheming sonofabitch to come between us.
“Mum that was the guy that helped me from the airport, the one that dropped the note at the reception. I’m sorry, there was already something between us and the rest just happened.”
My Mum’s shock showed on her face and her mouth framed just one word.
Then her simmering rage overflowed, I couldn’t believe that my perfect mother had gone gangster.
“Oloshi, God will punish that two timing bastard, heeehh!! Can you imagine the fool? So its my daughter that he is forming Jack and Rose for Titanic? Listen to me Cassandra, forget that stupid boy, there are lots of them in this Abuja, he doesn’t deserve you. Hah! Imagine the guts”
My eyes were as round as saucers, my prim and proper Mum was ghetto. Seemed every Nigerian had street credibility, even the very polished ones. It was so exciting, seeing my Mum all claws and fangs.
I couldn’t help imagining her dig them into my step Mum, I mentally jotted down not to tick my Mum the wrong way.
We got home, watched her favorite soap opera together and talked some more about Muna. Mum had calmed down reasonably but was still acidic with her tongue. My mind was made up. No more Muna in my life.
I looked at my completely made over look in the mirror and sighed with satisfaction. I had been massaged, exfoliated, manicured, pedicured etc. and my skin glowed. I had on a clinging tiny black dress that accentuated my waist and round hips.
Earlier on Funmi had invited me to ‘Club Cubana’ in the heart of the city, My first time of exploring the Abuja night life but she warned me that she would likely stop over at other clubs before the night was over.
Funmi my Mum’s dermatologist was a typical Naija girl. She was quite fashionable with big hair, big laugh and big sassy attitude. She was aggressive and sarcastic, constantly teasing everyone around her; they seemed to like it though because they laughed at all her jokes.
Over there in US, I would have branded her a bully or bitch but here I had shortage of friends anyway, so I overlooked her overbearing attitude. Hopping clubs was perfectly okay by me, I was young, wild and free. I chuckled in spite of myself, Though I didn’t see myself as wild at all but that was my own deeply rooted issue, no one had to know.
I teased and fluffed my hair into unruly curls that cascaded down my back, I had long hair but this was artificially enhanced in a way that was not obvious.
I heard a light knock on my door and opened it to admit Funmi who was looking very colorful and sophisticated. She took one look at me and burst into raucous laughter, then she tapped me playfully on my butt and said
“Omo See this babe ooh, you wan try? who you wan go finish for club today? Mehn you too badt!! You hot no be small.”
I was happy she approved and we went downstairs to her Honda CRV jeep. Funmi was a crazy driver; it was like she was constantly high on life. She played her music too loud, sang along so vehemently that making conversation with her was near impossible except she stopped to comment on the singer’s flawless delivery. She was playing from the album of some Nigerian Afro hip-hop big deal, Olamide. Who she claimed was mad ooh, another street slang she used often.
It seemed everything was either badt or mad to her. It was all very exciting, I couldn’t wait…
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