|Join Nairaland / LOGIN! / Trending / Recent / New|
Stats: 2,231,816 members, 4,883,510 topics. Date: Monday, 22 April 2019 at 03:38 PM
|Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 4:59pm On Feb 20, 2016|
WAITING FOR THE BOUQUET
Copyright © 2015 by Audrey Timms.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Audrey Timms, email@example.com, www.audreytimms.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the author in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
When I started writing this story, I used Nigerian names encompassing the major tribes we have in this country and some tribes with emblematic behaviours towards marriage (my own tribe included), but when I gave it out to some specific readers to read and critique, I was informed that some people might find it prejudiced. So I decided to go all foreign with the names of the major characters because I don’t want people to miss the messages I’m trying to pass across and I also don’t want to offend sensibilities.
Secondly, the events that took place in the lives of the major characters all happened at different times.
Lastly, this is by far the shortest story I’ve ever written. I kept suppressing the urge to elongate it and add numerous twists and more characters because it was a novella I had in mind when the story chose me to write it.
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
WAITING FOR THE BOUQUET
It’s the norm nowadays for ladies to start thinking of marriage once they hit their 20s. Some wait patiently for Mr. Right, while some go out of their way to get ‘that ring’ on their fingers.
Waiting for the Bouquet is a story that cuts across different personalities of ‘marriageable’ ages going through a process before marriage. Lies, pretence, lust, anger, greed, secrets, love, and so much more are embedded in these spell-binding stories of ladies waiting for the bouquet.
Joy- "How can he love an ugly twenty-eight-year-old primary school teacher with only a National Diploma for a degree when he's a handsome thirty-two-year-old successful Systems Analyst with an M. Sc.? How? Tell me?"
Esther- "Okay o, Saint Tina. As for me, I'm not going to marry any cheapskate. My younger sister is presently in London living it up. So I can't fall below that standard. My own guy must be loaded to the teeth. I no get time for abeg-join-me-hustle kinda guys."
Annabel- "Love?" Sarcasm reeked out of her short laugh. "Love is a mirage. There's absolutely nothing like that. Had my dad loved my mum, he wouldn't have cheated on her. My mum is still with my dad because of some personal reasons. There's nowhere to go, she doesn't want her family to be justified when they hear she left him, and also because of us, her kids. A lot of women remain in unhappy marriages simply because of their kids. To save myself all that nauseating drama, I'm never going to get married."
Dennis- Dennis wondered who he'd take home to his dad. The homely, good-in-bed, great cook, domestic and fun-to-be with Joy or the stunning, poor-in-bed, terrible cook, slothful and boring Yvonne? Could he stand in church and look into Joy's big eyes to say 'I do' or Yvonne's sexy ones?
Yvonne- Yvonne's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Why was he laughing? He was probably chatting with a girl. A side chick? Her eyes flashed fire. He dare not dump her for another girl. No one had ever dumped her before and it wouldn't start now. She had to get to the bottom of her boyfriend’s obvious joy.
Alex- Alex slammed the door shut and watched as the car shot out of the compound on an angry, full-throated snarl. He was getting drenched by the rain but he didn't even mind. His mind was racing in kilometres. Would the fact that she was a year older than him deter him from his pursuit of taming her? Wasn't he biting more than he could chew? He shook his head. Time would tell. One thing he was however certain of was that Annabel would be a better person by the time they parted ways.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 5:01pm On Feb 20, 2016|
The rays of the sun streamed into the room through the window. Its warm texture caressed the spotted face of the girl on the bed. She stirred in her sleep and moaned a little. [b][/b]Turning slightly, the young lady came in contact with another body on the four poster bed. Her eyes flicked open. Her senses slowly got together and she realized where she was.
Joy groaned the instant everything came back to her. She'd done it again. She'd fallen for his charms again and ended up as his bottom b*itch again. The disappointed lady gently moved away from her slumbering companion. Throwing both arms in the air, she stretched her stiff body and yawned. In the glory of her unclothedness, she pushed the sheet aside and sat up. Her eyes navigated the room and she wished for the umpteenth time that it was her permanent abode. The azure and white ship-shaped clock on the wall showed it was some minutes after the hour of eight. Careful not to awaken her sleeping companion, she got out of the bed. Her bare feet hit the sky-blue rubber rug and her eyes roamed the room again in search of her clothes.
Moving her slim, five feet three frame to the bedroom door where her clothes laid strewn with that of the sleeping man on the bed, her colour heightened in remembrance of how they'd hurriedly taken them off. She cringed at the intimate images teeming in her memory banks. Still buck n.aked, she tiptoed to the adjoining door that led to the bathroom. In there, she stared at her face in the mirror. As always she wanted to break the reflecting piece into fragments.
Where had she been when God was sharing beauty? What had she done to God to create her with the gift of ugliness? Joy felt terrible as usual staring at her reflection in the mirror because what came back to her was an oblong faced girl with big eyes, very full lips that would shame Angelina Jolie's, a broad nose and acne spots all over the fair face. She'd tried almost all the facial creams on the surface of the earth in a frantic bid to clear her face and make it look smooth and supple but the spots were ever so obstinate. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. It wasn't fair that she looked this way. She would have sold her soul at that moment to have the looks to attract a male of Dennis's calibre. But she had no expectation of such a miracle taking place. The fact that she had a workable shape made no difference to her. Facial beauty was everything. Tears burned her lowered eyelids and she fought them back bitterly.
Joy abruptly turned away from the mirror above the wash basin and sat on the water closet beside it as she allowed urine to flow from her bladder into the porcelain bowl. Staring at the bathtub, she wondered if she could take a quick bath before going home, despite the fact that she didn't bring a change of clothes with her. She hadn't intended spending the night. Cleaning, cooking, washing had been the only thing on her mind when she'd come there the previous day, but who was she kidding? Dennis's touch was irresistible. Just a slight caress from him and she'd turn putty in his hands, ready to melt like butter. But it wasn't right. She shook her head. It just wasn't right. She knew she was his side chick. More than a side chick though. She was his dogsbody and his regular lay but she couldn't help it. Before him had been no one. Guys didn't date ugly girls. They just wanted them for sex. She'd resisted them in all shapes and sizes but when she met Dennis, she knew she'd come to her bus stop of resistance and had offered him her virginity.
The man in question was more than cute. He was nice and charming as well. Joy was indifferent to the fact that he was also successful because she really wasn't after his money. She just wanted a man who would love her. Discovering that she was just a side chick to him had been devastating but for the life of her, she couldn't let him go. She'd been dating him or better put, side-chicking him for over a year now, hoping against all odds that he'd come to love her and propose to her but she knew she was living in a dream world, a fool’s paradise. His main chick was a goddess. A beautiful model who had guys falling at her feet and running to do her bidding.
Dennis thought she didn't know. He always went out of his way to make her oblivious of his main chick's visits to the house. He'd told her the night before that he would be going for a seminar the following day. The corporate security outfit he worked for, where he was their systems analyst, was sending him and another colleague to another state for a seminar. But it was 8am and he was still in bed. Or maybe he knew she knew about his main chick but just didn't care.
Joy got up and flushed the toilet. She put on the tap from the wash basin and washed her face with the warm water that poured forth from it. She squeezed a small portion from the toothpaste in the cabinet beside the mirror and finger-brushed her teeth with it. Done cleaning up and finger-combing her naturally long hair which she neatly packed in a bun at her nape, she put on her blue jean, her baby pink bra, and her burgundy and black tank top. There was no need putting on her soiled panties. Just looking at Dennis alone sometimes got her to wet them.
Dennis was still in dreamland when she entered the room. He was now lying on his back with one arm stretched towards the headboard and the sheet barely covering his loins. Desire licked through her veins at the erotic sight. She told herself to snap out of it. If he woke up to grasp that she hadn't gone, he would be mad. He was very nice to her but there were times when he was unfair as well. He never took her out. The utmost he did was buy her stuff like suya (grilled steak), snacks and soft drinks on his way back from work. He made sure it was dark whenever they went out for a stroll or a drive in his car. Dennis had told her to leave the house only when it was dark but in situations like last night, when marathon sex had intervened, he wanted her out of the house before dawn. She'd never met any of his friends even though he had like a couple of them. It hurt like hell for her to know that he never wanted to be seen with her in public or in broad daylight but half bread was definitely better than none or even buns.
Joy tiptoed to the bed to get one last look at him to last her till the following weekend because according to him, they couldn't see each other during week days because of his hectic job. They only hung out at weekends when she came to do the cleaning, cooking, washing, and of course, bed warming. There were times when she felt as if she was chasing her tail.
Dennis was a six-feet-one-inch tall, dark and handsome guy. Everything about him was perfect, from his well-structured face which featured black and intelligent eyes, average-sized nose, cute mouth and kissable lips. He kept beards which made him look more sexy. His well-toned, muscular physique was to die for. The only flaws he had were his slight bow-leg which he laughed about sometimes and imperfect dentition. Meeting and dating him was a dream come true. Her mouth ran dry at ogling him. No matter how hard she tried not to react to him, she always failed woefully. He was so gorgeous, from the crown of his proud, dark head to the soles of his bare dark feet, and she loved him as she had never known she could love anybody
With a sigh, Joy left the masculinely furnished bedroom, passed the narrow hallway accommodating two doors that led to two other rooms and entered the living room. She went to kitchen adjoining the dining area and quickly did the dishes and cleaned up the place. Joy wondered if she should make him breakfast but thought against it. She packaged the left over soup in a transparent plastic container with a cover and placed it in the double-door Thermocool refrigerator. She looked round the kitchen. Everything was clean and neat. The marble floor was freshly mopped. The counter and the sink were shining from her vim scrubbing the evening before. The pots and utensils which hung on one side of the kitchen wall were all clean.
Joy went back to the living room to quickly dust and clean the plasma television, the home theatre system, the case that contained a selection of DVDs, the DVD player and the DSTV decoder. That done, she moved to the almond and blizzard-blue pyramid patterned sofa and chairs and cleaned them as well before taking another clean rag to scrub a stain off the wheat coloured rug. She was like a hound after a scent of blood. Her eyes took in the entire living room and the corners of her lips lifted in a smile. She was satisfied with her work. Cooking and cleaning were hobbies of hers.
Joy pushed aside the heavy curtains and unlocked the wooden door. After shutting it behind her, she walked quietly to the gate and let herself out of the compound, but not before she went to put Dennis's Doberman aptly named 'Devil' in his cage at the backyard. He was as big as a horse and as dark as night. The compound consisted of two three-bedroom flats. Dennis's neighbour was away in the U.S. but Joy was acting as the caretaker to the flat. Dennis had rented his flat with a couple of his friends but they’d moved out when they’d gotten their own place.
The sun had taken on intensity, so she shielded her eyes with her hand and tried to see if she could get a Keke Napep (tricycle) to her house. Her house was at the other side of town and she didn't want to walk till she got a means of transportation. Walking always made her think of her miserable life and she didn't want that this sunny and beautiful morning. But as there was no Keke Napep in sight, Joy decided to walk down the semi-busy street. She finally got one after walking and thinking for ten minutes and it took her to the junction of her street. The aroma of akara (bean balls) filled her nostrils when she alighted from the tricycle. Joy knew she just had to pause to buy some. The gossip of a woman who was the maker and seller of the delicious snack said nothing but her eyes took in her appearance and she sighed as she handed Joy the bean balls. Joy didn't care. She'd gone past caring about what their street gossip thought of her.
Walking slowly down the quiet street, the young lady entered her compound through the seen-better-days gate. Joy greeted her neighbours whom she met on the stairs to her own apartment. It was a run-down four-storey building with eight flats. Hers was on the third floor. Joy was glad Dennis had never asked to know her house. The terrible state of the building would shame even a monk.
She didn't bother knocking when she got to the two-bedroom flat she shared with her mother. It was a Saturday, so her mother would still be reclining on her bed. She groaned inwardly at the lecture her mother was sure to give her. It was a bad thing that she'd overslept. Pushing the noisy iron door open, she entered their small living room. It wasn't luxurious like that of Dennis but it was home and the rent was fair. She was about tiptoeing to her room which was situated at the left-hand side of the living room when her mother came out of her own room which was to the right, close to the front door.
"Good morning, Madam." Her mother's clear voice rang out.
Joy paused and turned around. Her mother on a white cotton nightgown with a colourful wrapper tied around her chest was frowning at her by the door. Joy was a replica of her mother, in height and everything, even in acne.
"Good morning, Mummy," Joy answered and looked shame-faced.
Her mother strolled into the living room and sat on one of the battered chairs that had once been teal green. It had ancient written all over it.
It was another lecture hour. She slowly made her way to one of the chairs facing her mother.
"Joy, is this how you want to live your life?" her mother questioned and Joy winced. Her gene provider drew forward in her chair. "I've been there, Joy. He's not going to marry you. You're only making a fool of yourself, my dear. He's still going to marry that beautiful and rich lady no matter the quality and quantity of sex you give him."
Joy fixed her gaze on the tiles in embarrassment. Those censorious words had cut the ground from under her feet. She didn't know what to say. They'd had this conversation a number of times.
"Darling, you're not playing with a full deck. It was exactly like this with your father. But where is he now? Do you even know who he is? You don't because I was foolish enough to think that getting pregnant for him would get him to marry me but I was wrong, dead wrong. He still went ahead to marry his beauty queen after telling me it was over between us and I should have an abortion. Please, my darling child, don't make the same mistake I made. Please don't be a tree that doesn't move unless there is wind."
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Joy thought. She didn't tell the forlorn woman that she didn't even have a chance in hell of getting pregnant for Dennis because he never faulted in using protection. Even during a quickie. Sometimes, he even doubled it.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she glanced at the woman who had given birth to her. "But I love him."
Her mother shook her head slowly with a rueful look on her face. "Love is only going to hurt you. Does he love you?"
Joy's tears dropped then. "How can he love an ugly girl?"
Her mother's breath caught sharply but Joy continued, "How can he love an ugly twenty-eight-year-old primary school teacher with only a National Diploma for a degree when he's a handsome thirty-two-year-old successful Systems Analyst with an M. Sc.? How? Tell me?"
The middle-aged woman got up and held her daughter as she sobbed. She'd always known her daughter had self-esteem issues but this was the very first time in their discussion about the guy who was using her as a slave that she had ever called herself ugly instead of her usual agreement with her mother.
Joy wondered why she was crying. But she knew. She was usually a mess whenever Dennis's main girlfriend came visiting. There was always a slight change in him after the visit. It was as if at such times he'd ask himself what he was doing with her when he had such a beauty. He was always withdrawn. She dreaded the day he would tell her it was over.
And now, she was causing her mother worry by voicing out her inner inhibitions. She'd never for once in her twenty-eight years on earth told her mother she felt ugly, simply because she was a carbon copy of her mother. She didn't want to hurt the good woman's feelings by indirectly calling her ugly.
"You are not ugly, Joy. Please don't ever say that again. Your eyes and lips might be slightly too big like mine and you might have spots all over your face but you're not ugly. You're beautifully and wonderfully made by an awesome God. Never forget that." Her mother sniffed back her tears too. She'd had these same feelings all her life but it hurt that her daughter was going through the same thing as well. It hurt even more because her daughter was a complete wife material as they say. She was hardworking, loved helping people and was very generous with even the little she had. But she had never had a serious boyfriend except for the slave driver she was presently with. People looked at their faces instead of what they had inside. Men went about marrying beautiful but empty ladies while rare gems like them were treated like outcasts.
"It's okay, Mummy. I'm okay now. I was just a little emotional. Maybe my period is approaching." Joy sniffed.
Ms. Elizabeth looked at her daughter. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, Mummy." Joy sniffed again and got up, forcing her mother to withdraw her hands and step back. "I need to go and take my bath. I'll come out soon and help you with chores," she informed her mother.
"Okay, dear. Don’t sell yourself short. And please, please, do away with that guy before he breaks your heart into fragments. The death that will kill a man begins as an appetite."
Joy was already drifting to the door of her room. She turned back for a second, nodded and smiled a little before opening the door.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 5:09pm On Feb 20, 2016|
Esther tightened her body and squirmed like a worm in an effort to push the deep magenta lace gown down her robust thighs. The curvy lady cursed the tailor for the tenth time, forgetting that she'd told the woman to sew the dress one size smaller. She'd thought she'd be able to trim down to one dress size before the time for her course mate's wedding came. And now the dress was a size too tight and had cost her an arm and a leg. Esther stared at her reflection on the long mirror and let out a long hiss. Her boobs were practically pouring out of the dress, she couldn't breathe very well and her distended stomach was complaining bitterly. If she tried forcing the dress down some more, it would get torn.
Esther had been battling her weight ever since her dad came into money. She was sick and tired of being fat, all thanks to her dad; they'd both become fat when he was able to afford decent food and she'd stuffed herself with junk food she'd always desired to taste. Why hadn't she taken her mother's slim physique instead of her dad's robust one? Of all the things to inherit from one's dad. Gosh! She dieted like crazy yet she was still as fat as ever. Her mother had told her countless times to accept herself the way she was but she didn't want to be like this. Esther wanted to be a size ten at most. She didn't fancy dabbling between sizes fourteen and sixteen which wasn't fat in her mother's estimation. People told her all the time that she was okay and not really fat but her orange cheeks, second drooping chin, watermelon boobs, protruding belly, healthy chicken-like laps told her otherwise. The only things she was grateful to God for were her flawless light skin and her beautiful round face which featured naturally long eyelashes, brown eyes, a pert nose and a mouth shaped like a bow which she pouted perfectly after months of practice before a mirror. She was lucky that her height of five feet seven could carry her weight.
The angry lady struggled and pulled the dress over her head, taking deep breaths during the difficult process. She threw it angrily on the tiled floor and jumped on it in a childish tantrum. Having let off steam with the exercise, she moved to lie on the big bed and sighed as her mind's eye went through her wardrobe in search of another dress. Esther wanted a dress that wouldn't make her look fat but bring out her assets- her boobs and hips and buttocks which she knew guys loved. The wedding was two hours away, so she had enough time to play dress up. She was determined to go for the wedding. Where else could she get a variety of guys who might be 'the one' waiting for her at the altar? It was her New Year's resolution to get married that year, by hook or crook. All her friends, excluding one, were married. It was a grave insult to her, seeing that she was even the prettiest of the five friends. Only losers came her way-- broke a.ss niggas and rich cheating b.astards. She wasn't ready to suffer one bit. This was the twenty first century for crying out loud! Suffering with your husband ended in her mother's era. Little wonder her mother's advice fell on deaf ears.
The young lady wanted to marry a rich man at all cost. Her younger and only sister had married a London-based Nigerian three years ago. If she couldn't marry one based outside the country, she'd marry a very rich one based here in Nigeria. Her father wasn't wealthy by any standard and her family had always strove for the basic necessities of life-- food, clothing, shelter and education e.t.c. Jealousy had always been her portion in her undergraduate days when she saw the quality of clothes and jewellery on her fellow students. She didn't fancy the aristo business; else she would have joined just to belong. She'd thrown herself at all the rich guys on campus to no avail. They were all cheating b.astards.
She got up from the bed and moved to her travel bag beside it to bring out a heap of clothes. She was sorting through the clothes when she heard her Blackberry ring on the bed. She stretched her hand for it and hissed when she saw who the caller was. Donald, Loser Number Fourteen. She wondered if there was something about her that attracted losers. Was there a sign on her forehead which said, ‘Losers, this way’?
Esther had gone out on a date with the said loser some nights ago and had ended up paying for their meal when the loser came up with a rooster and bull story that a child could dissect about his wallet being stolen. She hadn't said a word but thanked her stars that she'd come out with money she'd intended to use to buy groceries on her way back home. And the f.ool still had the guts to call her. Pausing in her search for the perfect dress, Esther joyfully sent him an abusive text message and felt better. It reminded her of another sorry story of her life where she'd given her body, soul and everything to Charles, thinking he was the owner of a mansion and four rides, only for his elder brother to come back from London with his family to claim them. Charles was just a jobless liar. She bit her bottom lip in anger. It had made her very cautious.
A few minutes later, her mobile phone rang again and the irate lady sighed. Was today losers-calling day? Paul, her very first boyfriend and lover since her first year in the university was the one calling. She'd broken up with him in her third year when she comprehended what she wanted in life-- a wealthy husband. Paul wasn't bad to look at but he was poor; a secondary school teacher. Even though he had a first class degree in Mathematics, he couldn't find himself a decent job. Esther agreed that she'd once loved him with her whole heart but seriously, na love she go chop? She was just being real but Paul refused to get the message. He kept on disturbing her, begging her that things would get better. She was tired of that same old story. Truly the guy loved her. He'd resisted her rebuffs for over three years now, fighting tooth and nail to get her back. Frankly, Esther didn't want to hurt him because Paul was really a nice guy and given the right circumstances, she could love him again but that was only if he hit a jackpot or something. There was no way she was going to live on a teacher's salary, a private school teacher at that. Poverty wasn't going to locate her again. Been there, done that.
Esther hastily told him she'd call him back which was a lie. She never wasted her airtime on fruitless guys. If he really wanted to talk to her, he'd have to call back much later. She had a man-search ahead of her.
An hour later, Esther, dressed in a lilac silk gown which showed off her curves surveyed her image in the mirror with a critical eye. She'd have to go on a diet again. It was so difficult for her to lose weight. Herbal tea made her feel sick and she fainted from exertion anytime she went to a gym or exercised. She'd just have to cut back on the carbs, chocolates and late night meals.
Suddenly conscious that she had been unseeingly staring into the mirror for longer than she dared contemplate, she blinked rapidly and dragged in a deep breath, noting with both approval and vanity that the sleekly styled lilac silk dress she was wearing made her look coolly sophisticated, the deeply slashed V neckline emphasising the robustness of her busts, the hemline-just above her knees-performing the same service for her legs.
Esther gingered herself up by telling herself that today was the day she'd meet her future husband. She put on her black three-inch heels and combed her long weave. Taking quick steps, she left the small flat which she shared with a friend of hers. With cool shades shielding her eyes from the early morning sun, she headed for the church service with the intention of getting there early to check out the guys coming into the church.
Five hours later, shoes in her hand, Esther angrily pushed her door open. She flung her black handbag on the bed and stormed to the small kitchen to fix herself a meal of indomie noodles and eggs. She was starving. She'd expected to eat at the reception but she'd picked a fight with one of the serving girls and got put on the back burner. To add insult to injury, she'd not being able to catch the eye of any reasonable guy there. Most of them had come with their own ladies. Who brings sand to the beach? She asked inwardly. Esther was furious to say the least.
Still on the lilac silk gown, she set the plate of hungry man packet of cooked indomie noodles and two eggs on the pink and white squared-pattern carpet and went to the mini fridge to get a bottle of 70cl Fanta, her plan of dieting obviously forgotten due to her ire.
She'd just taken about three forks-full of her meal when her roommate, Tina burst into the room. Startled, Esther dropped her fork carelessly, spilling some strings of noodles on the carpet.
Tina, a very tall and slim dark-skinned girl with passing beauty danced into the small room. Tina, like her, was also partaking of the Masters degree programme. They'd met during their degree days and had decided to rent a room together when they both got the M.Sc. admission to study the same course at the same university. They'd only been able to find a self-contained flat close to the campus. They took turns in cooking and cleaning. They portioned a part of the room for their clothes which hung in an untidy manner on the wooden hangar. The two friends also contributed money to get the electronics and appliances that graced the room.
Esther didn't particularly like Tina but she was okay with her since she did her share of the chores and was also single like her, though Tina had an on and off boyfriend. Since she was more beautiful, Esther didn't think Tina stood a chance in getting married before her.
"Wetin dey worry dis one?" Esther was pissed that her meal had been interrupted. She picked up her cutlery and resumed eating while Tina continued dancing. Tina had travelled to see her boyfriend in another state two days earlier.
"Guess what?" Tina quickly knelt beside her friend with her hands behind her after she'd dropped her small travel bag.
Esther eyed her and took a sip from her drink. Tina, still smiling like a cat that’d licked clean a bowl of milk, removed her left hand from her back and extended it to her friend to examine the gold ring with a diamond nose on her third finger.
"I'm engaged," she yelled with excitement.
Esther's fork dropped with a clang for the second time in minutes and her jaw dropped as well, as her bulging eyes beheld the ring.
"It was so romantic. He took me out to dinner in this expensive restaurant the night before. When I was doing his laundry the following morning, I felt something in his trouser pocket because I usually turn his clothes inside out before washing and there lay this beautiful ring. I didn't even know he was standing behind me. He popped the question and I went crazy. We're getting married immediately I'm through with my Masters programme. This is so amazing. I never thought..." Tina rattled on but Esther was no longer listening to her.
This was the worst thing to crown an already miserable day in her miserable life. Envy moved from her heart to her eyes and she was sure if Tina looked closely, she'd see green flashes there. Why was life cruel to her? She hadn't even known Tina and her boyfriend were going steady again. So steady he'd proposed to her! What was wrong with her? Why couldn't someone propose to her for her to even reject? The losers who hung around her couldn't even do that. All they wanted from her was sex. It wasn't as if she was bad looking. How could someone want to marry Tina? Tina who looked like an ostrich? She had swollen n.ipples for b.reasts and snored at night. Had the guy never slept on the same bed with her? Her legs were so thin; they could be used to play the violin. Tina had told her of her sexual exploits. She knew Tina was no virgin. Indeed, she was rather free with her favours and not noticeably faithful.
The recently engaged lady finally discerned in her ramblings that her friend was quiet and looked lost in thought.
"Esther, what's the problem? Aren't you happy for me?" Tina asked.
Esther snapped out of her musings and put on a fake smile. "Of course, I'm happy for you. Congrats o!" She stretched forth her hands and hugged her friend, and made faces at her back as well.
"Please, you have to join me in planning. We'll be through with our Masters programme six months from now. He wants to go and meet my parents next month for us to fix a date for the introduction."
Esther continued eating her food which had gone cold by then and rolled her eyes. "Introduction?” She put down her cutlery and faced her roommate. “Wait Tina, don't you think you're rushing things?"
Tina laughed in amazement and sat on the carpet beside her friend. "Rushing things? Babe, I'm thirty-one years old. James and I have been dating on and off for three years now. I'm not rushing things abeg."
"Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you o!" Esther rolled her eyes again.
Tina was crestfallen. "What's the problem, Esther? Why are you making me feel as if you're not happy for me?"
Esther quickly raised her hands in mock surrender. "Please o!" she pouted. "I'm happy for you o! I'm not jealous of you. All I'm saying is that you can do better than James. How much does he earn? Does he have a car? Does he have a house? Can he take care of you? Girl, shine your eyes o! Marriage na lifetime thing except you no mind divorce. Don't mind your age. Wait for a better man. A man who can take good care of you." She picked her cutlery again.
Tina hissed and got up. "Money isn't everything, Esther. James has a bright future ahead of him. He might not be earning much now but he's a very hardworking guy. Besides, I intend working also, so I don't need him to pay all our bills. If I'm waiting for a guy to pay my bills when I have a degree and I'm now fighting to get my Masters degree, then it means I wasted my parents' money."
Esther laughed sarcastically, clapped her hands and looked up at her friend. "Okay o, Saint Tina. As for me, I'm not going to marry any cheapskate. My younger sister is presently in London living it up. So I can't fall below that standard. My own guy most be loaded to the teeth. I no get time for abeg-join-me-hustle kinda guys."
Tina shook her head. She'd always known her friend to be money-minded but not up to this gold digger level. Esther had not thought of the fact that she was thirty years old. She was still selecting guys like fabrics in the market place. Tina felt sorry for her. While James wasn't a millionaire or earning six figures in a year, not to talk of in a month, she knew he had very good plans for their future and was slowly making his way up the ladder in the organization he worked for. Esther was probably jealous. With all her selectiveness, she couldn't even boast of a boyfriend.
Tina used her ringed finger to push back her long braids, which had fallen on her face. "Well, we're not all destined to marry rich men. Some of us are destined to grow with our husbands into riches. I love James. I don't want to be with a man who’d regard me as just another addition to his list of properties. Hope you know how Sylvia's in-laws are treating her. They call her and her family church rats and gold diggers at every turn."
Esther scoffed. "But she's riding a Range Rover Sport. She had her Christmas holiday in Cleveland last year. She doesn't wear a dress twice in a whole year. What the hell are you talking about?" Esther slung at her with biting derision.
Tina clicked her tongue. "Money isn't everything."
Esther frowned. "Says who? Where you not here when Gloria came to beg us to loan her some money in order for her broke-a.ss husband to pay their house rent? I warned her not to marry him but she didn't listen. She was sprouting this same nonsense. What's love without money? Now she regrets marrying him because she's suffering like mad."
Tina paused then and gathered her thoughts before looking down at her friend who had a look of scorn plastered on her face. "Esther, rain does not fall on one roof only. Some ladies married poor or middleclass men and are miserable with them. Some ladies who married rich men are miserable too. While some ladies married poor or middleclass men and are happy, so also some ladies who married rich men are happy. Different strokes for different folks.” She sighed and sat beside her non-listening roommate again. “What if after getting married to a wealthy man, some tragedy befalls him and he loses his wealth, would you leave him?"
"At the drop of a hat. There are many fishes in the sea, my dear." Esther smiled.
Tina shook her head slowly. "Please don't marry the wrong person in the name of money. Please. Marry a man for who he is and not what he has. What if he's a woman beater?"
"Make-up will cover the bruises"
"What if he's terrible in bed?"
"I'd play away matches."
"Ugly as sin?"
"There's something called plastic surgery."
Esther made a circular motion around her head with her hand and snapped her fingers. "God forbid! Which kain question be that?"
Tina shrugged. "Sorry. I'm just trying to make you see things."
Esther shrugged nonchalantly and resumed focus on her meal. "Don't worry, I've seen things. And they come in dollars, euros and pound sterlings."
Tina had to laugh in spite of the situation. She decided to always say a prayer for her friend, in order for her not to marry the wrong guy and for her to see that money wasn't everything. She thanked God for James in her life. She believed she'd have a fulfilled life with him, God willing.
She threw up her hands in defeat. "I give up. I pray you don't bite off more than you can chew someday. I’m off to the rest room." She rose and few steps took her there.
"Babe, you know I'm right. You're just trying to play the devil's advocate," Esther countered with a wave of her hand. She'd never told her friend her life's history simply because she didn't want pity and being looked down on.
At the door, Tina halted and turned around. "How was the wedding? You didn't bring rice or even cake for me?"
Esther eyed her. "I see rice and cake naim I dey chop dis cold indomie. Please don't get on my last nerve."
Tina burst into laughter, opened the door to the rest room and shut it quietly behind her.
PHCN restored power at that moment and in delight, Esther quickly went to put on the television and DVD player to continue watching the Scandal series. She paused when she got to the electric sockets.
So Tina was going to get married before her, she thought. Even though she was getting married to a loser, at least she was getting married. When would her own time come? Was she chasing shadows in seeking to marry a wealthy man? She didn't want to be like her mother who suffered poverty with their father before things looked up for them. She didn't want her children to suffer the way she had suffered with her siblings. She wanted a wedding that would be the talk of the town. But, would that ever be? She was thirty years old and even though she tried to deny it, it was already showing on her body and face. Being slightly overweight even made her look older.
Tears smarted in her eyes then but she quickly sniffed them away when she heard Tina flush the toilet. By the time her friend came into the room, she was munching away on her cold meal and looking intently at the television even though her mind was miles away.
3 Likes 2 Shares
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 5:11pm On Feb 20, 2016|
The atmosphere in the living room was as dull as dishwater. Dennis felt like stripping off his clothes and dancing Mapoka just to get his girlfriend to notice him but he knew he'd be making an a.ss of himself for nothing. Ever since Yvonne had flounced into his house that morning looking as sexy as ever, she'd not even spared him more than a glance. She'd been going through her mobile phone ever since. He had the mind of going to put off his generator just so her battery would run down and she just might notice his presence. So the hours he'd spent preparing her favourite meal of fried rice, salad and chicken were all for nought? And to think he'd rushed the cooking like crazy, praying that her flight would be delayed. He'd been mad as a hen protecting her chicks from a prey when he woke that morning, pissed that Joy hadn't woken him up before leaving. He couldn't fault her though. Everywhere was spotlessly clean. Not that Yvonne had even noticed.
Dennis rose from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa. Yvonne was still chatting away.
"Sweetie, did you come to see me or play with your phone?" He finally asked after sitting there, staring at her beautiful face and well-manicured nails for a few minutes.
Yvonne's beautiful face constricted in a frown. "Oh, baby.” Her gaze was still locked on her phone. “I'm so sorry. I totally forgot about you. Just a minute. I need to finish this conversation with my agent. He has this big gig for me-- an exotic car advert."
"Okay. Take your time." Dennis shrugged nonchalantly but inside he was boiling. He kept asking himself over and over again what he was doing with her. She was nothing but an ostentatious strutting lady. She was God damn beautiful, he had to give her that, but her attitude was nothing to write home about.
As he sat there silently watching her, he unconsciously started comparing her with Joy. Joy wasn't good to look at but she was fun to be with, warm, hardworking, generous, a good cook and fantastic in bed but Yvonne, on the other hand, was strikingly beautiful, boring, a terrible cook--the first time she'd attempted cooking for him after his numerous complains, he'd ended up with a stomach upset for days--and slothful in bed. She didn't like sex and so laid on the bed like a doormat sometimes while he humped and sweated. Amazingly, she was good in house chores.
"Okay, I'm all yours." Her musical voice jolted him out of his reverie as she put aside the Blackberry Passport he'd bought her for her birthday at her request. That was another good thing about Joy. She wasn't demanding. He barely remembered to give her money and he'd never bought her anything. Not even on her birthday. He felt a twinge of guilt at that. The most he did for her was get snacks, suya and soft drinks which they both devoured but she never complained.
"Earth to Dennis. Come in, Dennis." Yvonne waved a slim hand over his handsome face and he pulled himself together.
What was he thinking? To have such a high maintenance girl like Yvonne call him her boyfriend was a dream come true. He was the envy of his friends. Guys envied him whenever they went out together. He enjoyed showing off with her.
"Sorry. Your beautiful face got me trapped in space for a minute," he drawled but she wasn't even moved. Not even a blush. She was used to hearing such, of course! Unlike Joy who smiled shyly whenever he complimented her on her hairdo or attire.
Christ! What was it with him and the thought of Joy these days? He realized with trepidation that she sneaked into his thoughts lately. Must be the s.ex. He was having too much s.ex with her. He had to stop that ASAP.
"What did you cook? I'm starving." Yvonne yawned a little and quickly put a hand across her bow-shaped kissable lips. He got carried away staring at the luscious lips on her oval face, her pointed nose, and sexy cat eyes for some seconds.
He cleared his throat. "Err...your favorite."
Yvonne smiled and he could swear he could hear angels singing. Tall, sexy, light-skinned, hour glass-shaped beauty. And all his. To hell with Joy for now, he thought.
His girlfriend got up and straightened her blood red sequin mini dress which sent bolts of desire to his loins despite the fact that he'd sated himself with Joy the previous night.
Dennis held her hand and made her sit again. As he was about placing his lips on hers, she pushed him roughly away.
"You love s.ex too much. I didn't come here for that. Must we have s.ex every time I come here? I'm starving." With that, she took her beautiful self to the kitchen.
Dennis clenched and unclenched his fists. He stood up and paced the living room in an attempt at controlling his temper. He hadn't seen her in over a month, yet she had the guts to deny him. Was it any wonder he had a side chick?
Her phone buzzed continuously just then and in anger, he picked it. He'd tell her agent she was with her boyfriend and he should back off. It was a BBM message.
His eyes bulged when he saw the contents of the message. Unclad pictures of a girl and erotic messages sent by the same girl. He scrolled up and discovered even more erotic messages the girl had exchanged with Yvonne.
His face was a mask of confusion. He raised one of his hands and watched it shake in disbelieving outrage. Absolute outrage paralysed him. Violence shimmered rawly in his brilliant dark stare. Yvonne was a lesbian? But she responded to him in bed. Was she bisexual or was he just a camouflage?
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 5:16pm On Feb 20, 2016|
"So Annabel, why don't you tell Dr. Philips all about your stay in Spain," Annabel's mother implored her and earned herself an exasperated look from her daughter.
Annabel looked at their dinner guest who was seated opposite her at the beautifully set dining table. She returned her gaze to her meal of boiled potatoes, steamed spinach and gravy.
"There's nothing to tell. I was on vacation there and I had a nice time," she said with a note of finality but she forgot her mother's nickname was 'Never say die.'
"Is that all you have to say? Why don't you tell him about the beautiful city of Madrid," came the reply.
Annabel rolled her eyes. "Mother! I hardly think this is dinner time conversation."
Her mother frowned as she lifted her wine glass to her lips. "Well, you have been quiet all evening, darling."
"That's because I'm tired. I had a hectic day. I attended a wedding and a baby shower," Annabel retorted and sipped from her white wine.
Dr. Philips focused on the frown the beautiful lady seated directly in front of him wore and knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her. Beautiful was an understatement. At first sight, she'd taken his breath away. Yes, that was the word, she was breath-taking! She was all of five feet eight and the expression 'black is beautiful' had probably been coined for her. She was dark skinned with a perfectly shaped oval face, full lips, small but pointed nose, very dark eyes that could swallow a man whole. Annabel also had a fine bone structure and long long legs that made a man think of where he'd like them to be. Despite the fact that she was svelte, she still had it going for her in the boobs, hips and buttocks department. She was thirty-three years old but looked twenty eight. Her only flaw was the fact that she was as cold as ice and a bore to be with. She was so damn quiet; one could have a better conversation with a statue. Alas, the rumour he'd heard about her was true. But his matchmaking mother and hers wouldn't let them be.
"It's okay," he cut in before a full-fledged verbal war broke out between mother and daughter. "I have to get going anyway. I have to see some patients of mine before heading home."
His hostess looked crestfallen. "Really? Maybe some other time then."
Dr. Philips smiled while the moody beauty picked at her food.
"Annabel, see Dr. Philips to the door," Annabel's mother said in a no-nonsense tone.
Annabel's head shot up. She was about to protest but changed her mind and stood up gracefully. Even the small movement got to Dr. Philips. Too bad he couldn't pursue the relationship. He already had a warm and willing girlfriend. His mother didn't approve of her just because she was from a poor home but he didn't give a dam.n about that. He'd rather spend eternity in hell with his girlfriend than be in heaven with this ice maiden.
He thanked the elderly woman for the invitation and superb meal and walked quietly out of the dining room beside Annabel. In silence, they walked through the living room--which in his opinion was too big and elaborately furnished--and got to the front door. At the heavy oak door, Annabel paused and folded her hands across her chest and her sun dress went an inch higher. He willed his eyes not to drop below to gaze at those sexy legs again.
"Well, goodnight, Annabel. And thanks for a...a...nice evening," he said, tongue-in-cheek.
She pasted a fake smile on her face and opened the door. He caught a whiff of her Chanel perfume and it almost made him grab her. He however controlled himself. She was a helluva lady.
She politely told him goodnight and he saw that it took every ounce of courtesy that had probably been drilled into her for years not to slam the door in his face.
Annabel marched furiously back to the dining room. Her mother had done it again; invited a stranger for dinner in a matchmaking spree.
"How dare you be so rude, Annabel?" her mother castigated her immediately she set foot in the dining room. She should have known the woman would beat her to the first sentence in a sparring match.
She matched to the head of the table where her mother was regally seated in a lavender flowing gown.
"Mother, we talked about this. Why did you invite someone to dinner without my knowledge again?"
"You're thirty-three years old, baby," her mother gently reminded her.
Annabel threw up her hands in defeat and went back to her seat to feign eating. She tasted nothing because her taste buds seemed to have gone into hibernation. Mother and daughter never saw eye to eye whenever the marriage issue came up.
Frown lines deepened on her mother’s face. "Why are you like this? Why don't you want to get married like your mates? I'm sick and tired of going to weddings. I'm tired of my friends asking me about your wedding?"
"Then stop going to weddings," came the vehement reply.
The elderly woman's lips parted a little in shock. "Is that all you have to say?"
Annabel dropped her fork noisily on the ceramic plate. "Mother, we've been through this for like a million times now. If I'd known your invitation for me to stay with you till dad got back from the States was for you to invite every Tom, Dick and Harry to dinner every night, I'd have stayed back at my apartment."
Her mother glowered. "Stop exaggerating, baby, it doesn't suit you."
Annabel groaned. "That's the third guy this week!"
"Annabel, no matter how hot your anger is, it cannot cook yams!" her mother retorted sharply.
There was a moment of silence. Annabel folded her arms across her chest and scowled heavily. She took refuge in silence but her nerves were singing like a soldier's on the brink of a battlefield. The pin-dropping silence stretched.
Chief Mrs. Peters eventually rose gracefully from her chair and walked over to her daughter. She drew out the chair close to hers and sat down on it. She unfolded her daughter's hands from her chest and held them. A different tactic was what she'd use for her daughter. After all, one had to be careful in trying to kill the fly that perched on the scrotum.
"Baby, I worry about you. You know that, don't you?" A finger caressed her daughter's hand. "I don't want you to end up an old maid. You're thirty-three years old, you don't have a boyfriend, you live alone, you've never had sex in your life and you're a workaholic. Need I continue?"
Annabel rolled her eyes but her mother ignored it and continued. "Life is like a shadow and a mist; it passes quickly by, and is no more. I want grandchildren from you."
"Mother, you already have ten grandchildren from my three elder brothers."
She cupped her daughter's sculptured cheekbones. "Yes, I know that but I want one from you too, my baby girl."
Annabel couldn't find the words to tell her mother that her dream would never come true. She didn't have the heart to tell her to stop matchmaking because she'd never get married. For an answer, she stared at her cold meal. Her mother dropped her hands, got up, hugged her and gave her a peck on her forehead.
Annabel watched her saddened mother exit the dining room. She wished for the umpteenth time that her father were here. He was the only one in their family of six who could get her mother off her back simply because he wanted to make it up to her for his wrong doings. He'd gone to the States to check on his investments. The beautiful lady had known it would be a terrible mistake coming home in her dad's absence but her mother had called her and practically bribed her to come over because she was very lonely. All her siblings resided abroad and her mother hadn't felt like traveling. She'd known her mother would bring up the marriage conversation but she hadn't envisaged she'd go as far as shocking her with strangers at dinner.
The workaholic was pained that she couldn't tell her mother her secret. She hadn't even been able to tell her father--who she had been close to in the past--why she couldn't stand men. Even in the bank where she worked as Head of Operations, every male colleague of hers thought she was a snob but admired her because she was good at what she did. They however didn't know what she was hiding.
She shivered at the thought of anyone else finding out her secret. Only one person knew of her secret and in her estimation, that was already one person too many. No one else need ever know her darkest secret. She was prepared to take it to her grave.
Want more? Get a copy at www.okadabooks.com through this link-
Send a mail to either of this email addresses -- firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com if you have a problem getting it there.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 5:17pm On Feb 20, 2016|
joanee20, please modify your post and unquote that scene. Thanks
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by stonecoldcafe: 5:57pm On Feb 20, 2016|
Did u reli reli reli have to do that?
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by Paradise163(f): 7:10pm On Feb 20, 2016|
AudreyTimms immediately I saw this story on Okadabooks with you as the Author I bought the book because I know you never disappoint. It was indeed worth the pay. You are a Genius Dear.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by kingphilip(m): 9:44pm On Feb 20, 2016|
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 7:26am On Feb 21, 2016|
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 7:27am On Feb 21, 2016|
Paradise163:Aww thanks dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it and it was worth your money.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 7:28am On Feb 21, 2016|
kingphilip:Not here, bro. Okadabooks. Thanks
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by JeffreyJamez(m): 4:17pm On Feb 22, 2016|
Haba!. Madam Audrey...... so you start sontin like this, it's now you are calling me!.. I'm vexing!
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by Teespice(f): 4:31pm On Feb 22, 2016|
already bought and read the novel on okadabooks.
as usual, it was as good as unfulfilled promises.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by jaybiz007(m): 6:03pm On Feb 25, 2016|
I can't seem to find my way around the link you shared to purchase the book. Moreover, my BlackBerry OS does not come with Google playstore for downloading okadabooks app.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by tijehi(f): 6:58pm On Feb 25, 2016|
Ah, I bot this book yesterday and finished it this morning. Ahhh, this book is sooooo interesting oooo. Audrey, you are truuly gifted.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 8:35pm On Feb 25, 2016|
JeffreyJamez:Lol. Don't be vexed. This one is for sale though. Go over to Letting Go thread.
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 8:36pm On Feb 25, 2016|
Teespice:Thanks a lot, dear
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 8:38pm On Feb 25, 2016|
jaybiz007:I understand. Please send a mail to firstname.lastname@example.org. I'll tell you an alternate means of getting it. Thanks
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 8:39pm On Feb 25, 2016|
tijehi:Really? Thanks a lot, dear
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by ESIXLOVE: 9:53pm On Feb 25, 2016|
AudreyTimms Hmmmm, you want to kill somebody!
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by JeffreyJamez(m): 9:19am On Feb 26, 2016|
where can i buy?
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 9:59am On Feb 26, 2016|
ESIXLOVE:Lol. How you doing? Long time!
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 10:19am On Feb 26, 2016|
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by JeffreyJamez(m): 10:21am On Feb 26, 2016|
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 10:37am On Feb 26, 2016|
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by ESIXLOVE: 1:00pm On Feb 26, 2016|
AudreyTimms:I was off the radar for some time, apart from that I'm pretty fine.
How's your hubby?
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by AudreyTimms(f): 6:40pm On Feb 26, 2016|
ESIXLOVE:He's fine. Thanks
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by shaks97(m): 9:56am On Feb 29, 2016|
hey audreytimms aren't we going too get an update here ??
|Re: Waiting For The Bouquet By Audrey Timms by Princesschi(f): 4:45pm On Mar 03, 2016|
Awww Audrey Timms, #presence registered... :-
|Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health |
religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket
Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2019 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 524