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Show-stealer... how am I sure he didn't read my Operation Stop The Wedding! hahahahahaha |
19 year old........ Right. |
It is becoming worrisome that looking like a hoe is termed elegance now. Cheap will never be anything but: CHEAP. |
Can't see the resemblance. Is it from the back view or front view ![]() |
What is strange about these scenes, OP? |
Falz, you have started to showcase yourself to the fullest maximum... |
Utter Nonsense! |
Nonsense! |
Sehr interessant. |
Gut. Sehr gut. |
ojochidem:Hello, please does Paystack not require merchants to submit a certificate of incorporation before they can be approved? |
Oyibo people... trouble since the days of Jacob & Esau. |
I don't like Trump but I got to ask: why now? Where's these ladies been all these while? But if he's guilty... well, nasty! |
I love these two. |
olanshile2016:All right................. still *side eye* |
kingphilip:if you're thinking it must be PrettySpicey, then you must be right |
olanshile2016:Pls come to my blog to finish the story... ejot http://lifeandspices.com/ Hope you're not Jeffrey? *side-eye* |
*Brows arched* |
Nancydearie:Thank you, nancydearie |
Is it the words that are holy or the book they are printed on? My name is my name, wherever it is written. So is God's Word, His Word, no matter the tool of presentation. Can we focus on what matters and leave irrelevances? |
SIX ♣ ♥ ♣ PATTI was still asserting to herself that she was done with men and with love—and with relationships, even as she entered into the house. And because all her assertions didn’t seem to be taking the firm hold they usually did, her face was masked in a scowl as she jerked up the polythene-bag in her hand. “Your Diclofenac, with instructions on how to take them.” She deposited the bag on the wooden centre table with too much energy. “Why aren’t you beaming and thanking me?” “Why didn’t you pick your calls?” Nnadim countered with a scowl of his own. “What calls?” Patti’s scowl switched to a puzzled frown. “I called you three times.” Nnadim clucked. “I wanted to tell you to get me my Yoghurt drink from Obi and I wanted some of those salted crackers.” “I didn’t get any calls.” Patti slipped her hand into the back pocket of her denim trousers and then she remembered—and swore aloud. “I think I left my phone at the clinic.” She’d brought it out to take Jindu’s new mobile number while visiting her and her new-born baby but she hadn’t replaced it in her pocket. No, she’d held it in her hand and—and she’d set it down on the doctor’s table when he’d invited her to sit down. And she hadn’t even noticed. Hadn’t had the presence of mind to note anything because she’d been abnormally nervy in his office. Patti’s scowl returned and became a dark glower. “Blind gods of the land, I forgot my phone on his table in the clinic!” “If the gods really existed, they will blind you for calling them blind.” Nnadim told her. But his own crossness had drifted off at the turning of events. “What were you thinking that you forgot your phone there? You never forget anything.” He purposely needled her, and was enjoying doing so. “I wasn’t thinking anything!” Her cheeks went hot as Patti sputtered out the denial. “I met Kika and her mother there, he was attending to her when I arrived and so I waited. Then they were through and he asked me to sit down while he got your medication and…” she stopped herself, in time she privately thought, before she succeeded in embarrassing herself. “I wasn’t thinking anything, I just forgot the stupid phone there.” The glare she tossed at him didn’t distress Nnadim in the least. “You will have to go back and get the stupid phone then.” He returned with a jaunty smile. Patti didn’t like his smile, or the fact that she has to go back to the clinic. But she couldn’t do anything about either—except to scowl even harder, and swear under her breath. “I guess I have to. But just know that this waste of my precious time is your fault. If you hadn’t been nagging me to go get your medication, I wouldn’t have been so absentminded with worry to have forgotten my phone.” It pleased her immensely to blame this on him and to glare at him as she did. But the smile that only broadened told her that her blame-game wasn’t having any effects at all. “Just take that medicine and be sure to take your afternoon rest.” She snapped out the order, as a last resort. “I’ll be back soon.” “Don’t forget my Yoghurt and the crackers.” “Stop nagging me, old man!” Patti muttered the words as she flung through the front door. Imagine that, going to the clinic and forgetting her phone there—and in his office too! For blistering heaven’s sake, if she was going to forget her phone, why couldn’t she have forgotten it on Jindu’s bedside locker where she had used it, eh? And why must she forget it at all? Since when, indeed, did she begin to forget things? A hiss and a curse pealed out of Patti as she jumped back into her truck and backed into their stone-paved driveway. She was so going to hate having to see him twice in just one day. She didn’t even like the man and now she had to put up with seeing him more than once in one freaking day—darn it! She waited for Callistus to open the gate, ignored the questioning stare he threw at her and sped through the gates, then yanked her foot to the brake pedal at the sight of the dark grey Venza wagon pulling up at the foot end of the fence. Her dissatisfied look shifted into a major frown when the driver’s side door pushed open and the doctor—Isidore got down from the wagon. What was he doing here? And then she saw her phone in his hand and the question became, he’d brought her phone home to her? Not caring that she was frowning where she should be smiling in gratitude for whatever graciousness had prompted his actions, Patti flung open her door and got down. “I am surprised to see you here, doctor. Came for the house call after all?” Sheer perverseness made her ignore the phone in his hand and focus her cool gaze directly on him. “Not here for the house call—unless of course if you consider it necessary after all.” Isidore knew, somehow he did, that she’d seen the phone and was choosing to pretend that she hadn’t. “Brought you back your phone.” He raised it. “You forgot it on my table.” “I did. I just realised it and was coming to get it, myself.” Her dear mother if she was still alive would have been ashamed of her for her lack of good manners. But she wasn’t here, and so Patti used that lack of good manners to shield that odd nerviness that had returned. “Thank you for bringing it here but you shouldn’t have bothered. I’m sure you must have things to do at the clinic other than rushing out to deliver a forgotten phone.” Somehow her rudeness didn’t surprise, or even offend, him. But it sure puzzled him. “Do you have a problem with being friendly, polite and appreciative? Or is it me you have a problem with?” Patti made her eyebrows to arch up. “I don’t know you, doctor…” “My name is Isidore. I told you that and I also told you I’d prefer you call me that.” The fact that her eyes flashed at his interruption pleased him—a whole lot. “What’s your problem, Patti? Can’t treat a man nice, is that it? Because I was thinking maybe you’re generally ill-mannered and rude—” her quick hiss amplified his pleasure. “But Mama-Onye keeps saying nice things about you and then I’ve seen you show complete friendliness to people you meet at my office—like Aunty Nurse, Kikanwa and her mother—and so I am beginning to think that it must be me, or men in general you have a problem with.” Standing there, watching her with cocky speculative eyes, in a plain sky-blue short-sleeved shirt tucked into plain straight-legged cotton trousers, he looked good—handsome. But Patti didn’t want to think about his looks. She never, again, thought about the looks of a man—any man. “I don’t have a problem with you, Isidore.” Her tone was cool. “I don’t know you enough to have a problem with you.” “Then it must be men generally you have a problem with.” She hated his interruption and his increased cockiness. And that smug smile that tugged around his mouth! “I don’t have a problem with anyone. If you find me rude and ill-mannered,” she pulled up her shoulders carelessly, “that would be your problem and I don’t care in the least.” She reached for her phone but he snapped back his hand. “Say thank you first.” Patti’s eyes glinted. “Please let me have my phone, Isidore.” Her voice, her very husky voice, was dangerously low and Isidore found he liked the sound of it just at that muted pitch. The smile around his mouth widened. “I didn’t ask you to say please, I asked you to say ‘thank-you’.” Temper snapped, but Patti controlled it. “You are ordering me to say thank you.” It wasn’t an order, she knew it. And she also knew she should thank him… she’d planned to, after getting the phone. But she won’t now. Not when he’d demanded it—and cockily too. “If you won’t give me back the phone, then I suggest you take it back to the clinic and leave it on your table, while I come get it myself… as I’d initially planned to.” “You are very rude, aren’t you? And you enjoy being so… at least towards me.” Isidore chuckled, shook his head and turned. “Fine, I’m taking the phone back with me. But I’m not returning to the medical centre. I’m done for the day there—unless there’s an emergency and Nurse Carol calls me back. You want your phone, see me at my grandmother’s.” He opened his car door, slid inside and then looked at her. She was standing there, staring open-mouthed at him. That astounded, speechless look amplified his pleasure—in leaps and bounds. “See you later, Patti.” He called out cheerfully, gave a cheerful wave and then set the phone on his dashboard and started his car. Patti watched him drive off—with her phone. It was unbelievable! She found it unbelievable. The man had just driven off with her phone, and to his house? Colour flooded to her cheeks. She felt the flood of it and the heat that accompanied it as her temper snapped, clutched and spread itself nicely over her, beginning a slow, seething simmer. She whirled around, stormed back to her truck, jumped inside and kicked it to life. She wasn’t going to play his stupid game. Oh no, she wasn’t going to play his stupid, pompous-a.s.s.ed game! She was going to drive back to the house and completely ignore him. When he was tired of holding onto her phone, he would bring it back. But instead of backing into the yard through the still open gates, Patti found herself pulling into the highway and cursing viciously as she drove into the town. God, she hated men! And she hated city men most of all.
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JeffreyJamez:Because TM David-West has her own base ![]() |
FIVE ♣ ♥ ♣ SHE gaped at her grandfather. The old man stared adamantly back at her. “I am telling that I am in dire need of that medication the good doctor said he’ll be having sent down from Asaba. I barely slept last night. My poor knees kept me awake for hours on end.” “You barely slept during the night? And since when did you begin to willingly admit that your knees ache you?” Patti’s eyes narrowed even more with suspicion. “Stop cross-examining me like a prosecution lawyer.” Nnadim snapped. “I said I barely slept and I need the medications the good doctor recommended. And I need them now.” “But what happened to the Cataflam he gave to you? Have you taken one and didn’t feel any relief?” “If I needed to take the Cataflam, I would have taken it. What I need is the Diclofenac he recommended. You heard him that day—it would be better for my arthritis.” “Fine. But we are not sure if the drug has been delivered yet from Asaba—” “We cannot be sure unless we go to the clinic and ask the doctor about them.” Nnadim impatiently interrupted. “I would go myself since it is now a burden to help out your old grandfather but these knees feel like they’re being grinded by a shredding machine. But if you’d rather see me in pain than leave your precious little fishes that’s just fine. I’ll—” “All right. Enough with the poor-old-sick-grandfather emotional blackmail.” Patti pushed out a hot breath and heaved off the wood-frame couch. “I will go get the drug for you. But you better make sure you stay religiously faithful to it when it gets here.” “I don’t need you to tell me how to stay faithful to my medications, just get them and get the good doctor’s prescriptions for them.” Nnadim sniffed as he leaned back in the lounge chair and laboriously stretched forward his legs. “And don’t forget to ask him if there are any side effects. You know how I can get with new medications.” “Frankly, I don’t know how you can get with anything.” Patti muttered and then scowled at him. “And why do you have to keep calling him ‘the good doctor’ like he is on some saintly, martyrdom mission coming here to while away a bit of time?” “Patricia, I’d like to waste the small strength I have left arguing about irrelevant facts with you but I really need to conserve my strength. I didn’t sleep at all last night.” He sniffed again, adjusted, with the greatest difficulty, on the lounge chair and added a low groan for good measure. “Just get to the clinic and get me that drug please. ” “If Patti is too busy to go to the clinic, I can stop over at the doctor’s office and get the drug for you.” Nneka offered, coming into the old furnished living room with the oranges she’d just peeled. “I am going there anyway. Nwanokwai’s daughter just put to bed a bouncing baby boy—” “Really?” Patti forgot her displeasure at her grandfather’s nagging to beam at the news. “She had delivered already? When, yesterday?” “Actually I heard it was the early hours of this morning.” Nneka replied. “Her mother just called me with the news. So I told her that I would be bringing some good ofe-nsala for Jindu and to rub the new baby’s powder.” “You can go rub the baby’s powder another day. I want you home so you can pound me fufu and prepare me my fresh-fish pepper-soup.” Nnadim told her. “But I only plan on rushing to the clinic and coming back right away.” Nneka protested with a wistful expression. She always enjoyed the first sight of a new-born. “There’s no rushing-in when it comes to babies and gossip with you women.” Nnadim waved aside her protests. “You can go tomorrow. If she is not still at the clinic, all the better. You can then visit her in comfort at their home. With barely any sleep gotten at night and these knees throbbing so badly, I need something hot and spicy to soothe me.” “Okay, I will serve you some of the ofe-nsala I already prepared for Jindu—” “I don’t want a new mother’s ofe-nsala, Nneka.” Nnadim interjected. “I want my fresh-fish pepper-soup and I want it accompanied by well-pounded fufu. How had it become difficult for anyone to listen to me in this house, eh? I said you can go see her tomorrow… or even this night if you like. Patti can deliver the ofe-nsala on your behalf while she gets my drug, which I desperately need, from the doctor.” “Let him have his way, Nneka. The sleepless night he’s been moaning about all day must have left him disgruntled.” Patti gave the other woman an absent pat and started in the direction of the bedrooms. “I will just change and then take in the ofe-nsala for you.” “And what are you up to, old man?” Nneka asked as soon as Patti went through the curtained connecting door. “I don’t know what you’re prattling about, woman.” “Uh-hmm.” Nneka narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “I heard that the new doctor is Mama-Onye’s grandson. I see what you are doing, old man. I see it clearly.” “And I want to see my fufu and fresh-fish pepper-soup before me, so get inside the kitchen and get busy with that instead of spewing baseless facts.” Nnadim snapped, glaring at her. “Fufu and fresh-fish pepper-soup indeed. You will be eating pounded yam and that ofe-nsala for using me to get away with your sneaky moves.” Nneka threatened as she walked back to the kitchen. But she was already contemplating asking Adim to bring her a fattened tilapia from the pond as she was in complete support of the old man’s devious conniving. ♣ ♥ ♣ PATTI chose to linger too long with Jindu and her new baby because she was reluctant to see the good doctor. But one could never overstay their welcome, so her lingering soon came to an end and she started towards the doctor’s office with the coolest and most indifferent expression on her face. Why Nnadim chose that afternoon to start whining about his knees, she didn’t know but that old man had better not be up to something—or he’d end up sorely disappointed. She sniffed, raised her hand to tap the wood-frame of the curtained doorway and paused at the bout of laughter. Two voices were laughing… well, three if you added the hesitant chuckles from a definite female tone. Curiosity made Patti tilt aside the curtain instead of knocking, and her own mouth instantly curved when she saw the wild laughter on Kikanwa’s face. The little girl, just six on her last birthday, had a lollipop on one hand and the other hand, tucked nicely into the doctor’s own. She was listening raptly to him as he told her, and her mother a few steps away, a ridiculously over-embellished story about his own fear for needles as a boy. “I am telling you when I saw the nurse coming this way with the injection needle, I would run the other way, screaming at the top of my voice and bawling like a frightened hyena as I went.” Isidore continued in his low confidential tone. “The entire hospital will go up in an uproar. My mother would be screaming and running after me. Doctors and nurses would be trying in vain to catch me… and I would be dodging under ward beds and curtains. When finally they caught up with me, my cries will double and my screams could be heard from here to asha-eke. I was a terrible boy. I am telling you, Kika, you are braver than I was. Very much braver, for here you are laughing even as I prepare to tickle your skin with my injection needle.” “It is not tickle. A tickle makes us laugh but needles are painful.” Kikanwa protested even though her eyes were still shining with mirth. “This one is not. That I guarantee you.” Isidore let go of her hand and smoothly adjusted her on the examination bed. “You just focus on your lollipop and you won’t feel a thing. What is your favourite game in school?” “I like playing ball but mummy says I can’t play because I am a girl.” Kikanwa said, sending a pouting look in the direction where her mother stood. “That cannot be why she doesn’t want you playing. Girls are becoming the best footballers, you know.” Keeping his movements unhurried and precise, Isidore picked the already prepared syringe and the doused in disinfectant alcohol cotton wool with another hand. “But I am sure your mother is only worried about you getting hurt or sick that is why she wants you not playing ball. You sometimes have pains on your body after you play, don’t you?” He nipped down her skirt and her baby panties. “Only sometimes.” Kikanwa answered with petulance. “I don’t get sick all the time. Not like I used to before.” “And that is because you are taking more rest and your muscles are no longer stressed.” He plunged in the tip of the needle in one quick move and swiftly injected the liquid in the syringe into her body even before Kikanwa had the presence of mind to stiffen and cry out. “There, I told you you were a brave girl. No single sound and we are done.” Helping her off the bed, Isidore beamed at her. “How’s your lollipop tasting?” “I haven’t even tasted it yet.” Kikanwa looked awed that the process was completely over without her noticing it. “Did you give me the injection already, doctor?” “Didn’t you feel it?” She shook her head. “No. I just felt a tiny, tiny prickle.” “Which is why I call you a brave girl.” Isidore patted her head and gestured for her mother to come take the rest of her prescription. And then he saw her. Their eyes met and hers were smiling gently before she quickly shielded off the warm look. “Just give her these morning and evening. Start this evening and she will be fine in a few days.” “Thank you, doctor.” The woman’s eyes were aglow with gratitude. “This is the first time we are coming to the clinic and won’t be crying home.” “Really?” Isidore appropriately rounded his eyes. “I don’t believe that… not with my brave Kika. Tell her those days are over, mummy.” He winked at the little girl. She giggled and repeated the words. “Those days are over, mummy.” “High-five.” And they slapped palms together before mother and daughter started towards the door. “Aunty Patti, doctor gave me injection and I didn’t cry. I didn’t even feel it.” Kikanwa told her excitedly upon seeing her. “Have you greeted her before starting your bragging story?” Her mother chided before adding to Patti. “Good afternoon, Patti. How is Nnadim? I heard he too was at the clinic some days back.” “He was but he is doing much better now.” Patti smiled and then bent to give the girl a quick hug. “You didn’t cry because you are a big girl now and very brave as the doctor said.” “I won’t ever cry again when taking needles.” Kikanwa vowed and then thought it wise to add. “If it is doctor giving me the needle.” “That is a wise decision.” Patti laughed and then stepped aside to allow them through. Then she turned and sent a cool smile to the doctor who was wiping off his washed hands with a napkin. “I’m sorry if I intruded on your attendance to a patient.” “No problem, it wasn’t a private session.” Isidore gestured to the chair facing his desk. “Please have a seat and tell me how I can help you.” Patti walked into the office and sat down. Not because she wanted to but because she felt ludicrously nervous. Which was not only senseless but stupid as well, she told herself. “I actually only came to pick the drug you said you’ll be requesting for Nnadim from Asaba… that is if it has arrived.” “It has.” Isidore opened the drawer of his table and lifted out a paper-bagged package. “It actually arrived yesterday. I would have dropped it off myself on my way back from the clinic but I was afraid of being accused of trespassing a private property.” “Ah… thank you.” She took the drug, preferred not to reply the gibe. “Um, Nnadim would like to know if there are any side effects. He sometimes reacts to drugs.” “I think he will be fine with the Diclofenac as there is no history of reactions to aspirin or asthmatic attacks from his file.” Isidore assured her. “I attached a prescription guide for it inside. It is only for when he is having severe joint pains. If pains are not severe, regular pain relievers will serve just fine.” “Thank you, doctor… um, Isidore.” Then because she felt conscious using his first time, Patti rushed to her feet. “I will be on my way then. Nnadim is desperately waiting for them.” “Oh, did he have a bad night then?” Why he was reluctant to see the surly woman go, Isidore could not fathom. “Looks like he did as he woke up complaining.” “Would you like me to come in and check him?” Patti arched her brows in surprise. “Do you do house calls then?” “There is no hard and fast rules about such matters.” Isidore shrugged. “The patient’s health is what matters most.” “Hmm.” Patti inclined her head and stepped back. “Well, I don’t think he needs any emergency attention. The drug will do just fine. Thanks again for getting it in for us.” “Just doing my job.” “Yeah, I’m sure.” She took another step back and then made herself turn fully and start towards the door. Before she opened, she turned again. “That was nice… how you handled Kikanwa. She is legendary for crying down the clinic whenever she has to come in for treatments and they involve injections. Which is often given her constant sickle cell crisis.” “Yes.” Isidore nodded, his thoughts shifting to the girl. “I’m thinking of switching the blood tonic she is currently using. There is a better one for anaemic patients I can request for from Asaba.” “Do you always switch things around or are you just very conscientious?” Isidore looked at her. Why the plain, too angular face with over narrowed eyes would appeal to him at just that moment left him bewildered. “I am a doctor simply doing my duties.” He said mildly. “Right.” She nodded, opened the door and gave a wave. “Thanks for the drug.” And she shut the door—before she started thinking she needed to say something else. On her way back to the farm, Patti frowned at her mind mulling over the doctor who was apparently good at his job. She shouldn’t be thinking about him. She didn’t think about men—not anymore. She had done men and she had done relationships—and she was doing it no more. Never again. **** Remember You can read Key To My Heart right on Life and Spices.com: KEY TO MY HEART
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MzLakore:I have no links to it anymore, dear. Have taken it down as a free-read. Visit Life and Spices.com for more stories. |
JeffreyJamez:Underestimating me, Jeffrey? |
olanshile2016:Lol. Looking forward to hearing from you |
JeffreyJamez:Actually at the moment I'm a Wordpress Blog Setup Service Provider. And a damn good one too. |
Missmossy:Thank you, missmossy |
olanshile2016:i have a category in Okadabooks. My penname is TM David-West. You can contact me for your book cover on: tmdavidwest@lifeandspices.com OR tmdavidwest@gmail.com. |
olanshile2016:Thank you, olanshile2016. Cover design was done by me too... in case you need a designer *wink* |
FOUR ♣ ♥ ♣ SHE only had a few deliveries that evening and since all four were closely located, she was done within the first hour of her leaving the farm. Though it was well past six p.m. the sun refused to slide back behind the sky and chose instead to deceive folks into believing that there was still enough day to do the things they were desperate to get done in twenty-four hours. She wasn’t deceived herself, not quite. She wasn’t small-town minded enough to calculate the passage of time by the direction and brightness of the sun, she had her wristwatch to do that for her. But if the sky was still bright enough to provide natural light to her pathway, she might as well take advantage of it and take care of the toiletries shopping she’d earlier earmarked for the next day. As was Obi’s routine, he already had some chairs and tables set out on the veranda of his supermarket building and folks were already seated sharing drinks, the fried meat and well-grilled fish that Obi’s wife prepared for their makeshift drinking bar every evening. There were other spots to drink, eat goat-meat or fish pepper-soup, but Obi’s place was the most decent of the lot and the closest to residential areas in the town, so folks preferred to do their drinking and relaxation there. Of course the fact that his wife’s grilled fish was legendary in their town also backed their choice. “Good evening, all.” She warmly greeted, sending a friendly smile to the familiar faces that hunched over the wooden tables. “Evening, Patti.” Came the generally chorused response. “Done with your deliveries for today?” Ben asked. He was a civil servant and worked with the Ministry of works and housing at Asaba. “Did you stopover at my mother’s? I believe she needed broilers for the cook-out she is planning next Sunday.” “I did. And I got the snails she also saved for us.” Patti lingered at his table. They were friends, even though Ben wanted more and never made any bones about the fact. “How was work today?” “Boring as usual. I swear if I didn’t enjoy having so much time at my disposal, I’d leave my job just for the lack of challenge of it all.” As she’d known he would, Ben patted the space beside him on his bench. “Sit down a while with us, Patti. Have a drink and some of Obi’s wife’s grilled fish.” “I am sorely tempted, Ben.” She wasn’t. But it was always polite to have an excuse and to massage a friend’s ego. “But Nnadim is waiting for me for us to eat dinner and I am already running late.” “Let me call Nnadim and ask him to go ahead. I am sure Nneka can perfectly serve his dinner.” Ben took her hand and pulled her closer. “Come sit. Obi bring Patti a bottle of Malt.” She didn’t pull back from the hold. It was a conscious effort but she managed it with her smile still in place. “Obi save that Malt for next time, please. I really have to run, Ben. Had to take Nnadim to the clinic yesterday morning and he is still not feeling strong enough to be left on his own.” “Oh, is it his arthritis again?” Ben was instantly sympathetic. “Chei, that sickness is a menace to old folks. Tell him ndo on my behalf. Maybe I will find time on Saturday to come see him.” “And he will appreciate that.” Her hand free, she stepped back from the table. “Let me just grab a few things and then be on my way.” But as she was about to step into the store, she heard the new chorus of greeting. “Good evening, doctor.” Though her body, for its own reasons, stiffened involuntarily, Patti refused to turn around, instead she walked ahead and into the store. “Obi evening oh, please let me have my bathing soap, toothpaste, hair cream and Nnadim’s body ointment.” “Coming right away.” Obi cheerfully called, already moving through his shelves for the items. “Evening, doc.” He added the greeting with a toss of a smile over his shoulder. “Good evening, Obi.” Isidore stopped beside Patti by the counter, sent her a casual look. Did the woman wear nothing but jeans and t-shirts every day? “Evening.” She spared him a glance. “Evening.” “How are you finding our clinic, doctor?” Obi filled in the silence. “Must be completely different from the hospitals in Lagos, right?” “It is.” Isidore inclined his head. “But it is also a relief to be so much less over-worked.” “Is that why you chose to come here, to be less over-worked?” Patti didn’t know why she butted into the conversation when she should be avoiding talking to him altogether. “I chose to come here because I wanted to come here.” Isidore met her point-blank unfriendly gaze. “Do you have a problem with there being a resident doctor now at the medical centre, ma’am?” “None whatsoever. I only hope the resident doctor plan to stay long enough and to do his job rightly enough whilst here.” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out some bills which she passed to Obi. “And it’s not ‘ma’am’, Patti is my name and I prefer to be addressed by it.” She picked her packaged goods and sent a smile to Obi. “Thank you, Obi, and have a good night.” “I plan to stay long enough here and I have never but done my job rightly… Patti.” She halted and turned her head. “We will see on both claims, doctor.” “It is not doctor. My name is Isidore and I too prefer to be addressed by it.” This time she did not stop and she did not respond. Only called out farewell greetings to the folks on the veranda and got back into her truck. It was going to be a tedious month with her having to keep running into the new resident doctor. And yes, she was more than certain he won’t outlast his first month here. ♣ ♥ ♣ HE met his grandmother on the veranda. “Good evening, Mama-Onye. Not inside yet?” “Not on a bright evening like this.” Mama-Onye smiled affectionately at him. He had always been one of her favourites because of his kind heart and hardworking spirit. “How was your day at the clinic?” “Good. We had more patients from Ubulu-Unor than from here in town.” Since she was outside, he dropped beside her on the high-back cushioned bench. “It will be so. Now we have a doctor permanently here, many of them will be more confident coming here rather than going all the way to Asaba.” “Maybe. But I don’t think it’s everyone who likes the idea of a resident doctor being here.” Isidore murmured. “I think they preferred the way the last doctor came and went.” “What is that?” Mama-Onye adjusted her head to look at him. Noted his frown. “Who would not like us having our own doctor right at our own clinic? Has anyone been saying anything to you?” Isidore pulled up his shoulders. He didn’t even know why he allowed that annoying woman to get to him. “Not really. But I don’t think your delivery girl likes my presence in this town. In fact, she can’t wait for me to go.” “You mean Patti?” At his nod, Mama-Onye barked out a laugh. “Oh, is that who’s got that frown festering on your forehead?” She let out the boisterous laughter again. “Oh, Patti is harmless. In short, she is much like you—kind-hearted and dedicated to her duties.” “Kind-hearted? I don’t think so.” Isidore scoffed. Then recalled she’d been quite friendly to the fellow who’d been holding on to her hand back at the supermarket. “Maybe she is… but she hasn’t been to me. I always figure kind-heartedness went with friendliness and that lady has been anything but friendly to me.” “You talk as if you’ve seen her more than her bringing Nnadim to the clinic yesterday.” His grandmother’s curious stare made him shrug again. “Met her for the third time this evening as I stopped at Obi’s store to pick up my shaving sticks. First time was when I went out for a stroll the other evening and stopped by the fence of their farm to have a look at it. She told me I was trespassing and demanded that I desist from doing so. In fact, I don’t know how that woman is any success at the work she does because every time I’ve met her, she’s oozing of unfriendliness.” “Really?” Mama-Onye’s features creased with a thoughtful frown. “So she hasn’t been friendly to you, eh?” “She has been rude… and unapologetically so too.” “Ha, I see.” The mild frown shifted into a smile. “And what do you think of her?” “I just told you what I thought of her, Mama-Onye. She is rude and annoying.” “So she annoys you, eh?” Isidore looked at his grandmother and frowned at the smile on her face. “Let me assure you, Mama-Onye, that that lady is not my kind of girl at all. At all.” He repeated. “Mmm-hmm.” Mama-Onye continued to smile. “Your dinner is on the table. I’ve eaten though but you can bring yours out here and continue to keep your old grandmother company as we gaze at the night sky.” “Um, okay, I’ll do that.” But he still stared at her dubiously. “Don’t start getting any ideas at all, Mama-Onye. I don’t like that girl and I can assure she doesn’t like me either.” “I am old not deaf, young man. Go get your food and stop repeating yourself like a parrot.” His grandmother snootily ordered. But even as he walked inside the house, the smile on her face continued to worry him—or was it the annoying fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about that annoying woman?
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am not o
visiting the blog asap
