CHAPTER 18
NOMVULA
“And then? Why do you look like you just dodged a missile in Iran?” Nandi asks the moment I drag my tired and troubled self into her apartment. The aroma of freshly baked scones and coffee has my stomach grumbling, reminding me that I last ate during lunch yesterday.
“Can I have food?” I ask, ignoring her questions completely. “Make my coffee stronger.”
“O-okay.”
She doesn’t pry further, she starts preparing breakfast for me. A few minutes later breakfast is served and taking my first bite feels like heaven. I feel like I have been starved for days when it only has been a few hours. I eat until I feel my stomach stretching and that’s when I stop even though my heart still wants me to continue.
I take my plate to the sink, wash it and sit back down.
“Should I be worried?” Nandi asks.
“No.”
“What’s going on with you? You look troubled.”
Where do I begin? I feel like my relationship with Sabelo started on the high and now it’s a bit more bumpy than I expected. We haven’t argued about us—per se—but our arguments about his money spending habits are affecting us. Yesterday we had a heated argument and he ended up telling me that I’m not his wife so I have no right to question his financial decisions. I picked my unmarried self from the couch and went to bed. He was not in my house by the time I woke up and I didn’t bother calling him. But why does it hurt so much?
“I don’t know if I’m overthinking and overreacting,” I sigh. “Sabelo is into cars, expensive cars and I feel like that’s a hobby he can’t afford.”
“Why do you think he can’t afford it? For a lawyer with his record, I think he has a good head over his neck and wouldn’t do something that will put him in trouble. I’m sure he can afford it.”
“No one with a day job can afford to spend millions every week in the name of having fun and pumping the adrenaline. Something is not right, I can feel it.”
“Did you talk to him about it?”
“I did and he told me that I’m not his wife so I shouldn’t be questioning his financial decisions.”
“Damn!” she bites her lower lip. “Ulimala phi wena (Where does it hurt) when he’s spending his money?”
“Nowhere but how do I see a future in a man with such spending habits?”
“Hebanna! Kante wena o catchile already? (You are in love already?)” she laughs. “Girl, wait, wasn’t this supposed to be you getting your groove back, trying to live and all that shit?”
“It was at first but now… now it’s…” I fail to put it in words.
“You mean the cucumber is so good that you want to claim it as your own already?”
“Something like that,” I shrug and she bursts into laughter.
“Okay, I get you now. Maybe you should talk to him and see if you guys are on the same page. Maybe he still thinks you guys are playing, no future plans and all that.”
“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?”
“I know people with an expensive taste of fun. Just like your father, you know. He loved classic cars and he bought them just to wake up every day, admire them and get into another car and drive to work. Such people do not only find fun in collecting these things, they also take pride in owning such collections. It makes them feel alive and content.”
“What do you suggest I do then?”
“Talk to him. Maybe he has a side hustle that is bringing in more money. You know some people go to work simply because they are passionate about their work not because of money. You might find out that he has millions just chilling in his bank account.”
“Okay. Maybe I overreacted, I should have spoken to him and understood him before judging him.”
“Yeah,” she takes a sip of her coffee. “In all this, protect your inheritance, Nomvula. Don’t be the kind of a woman who is desperate for love to a point of sponsoring a man’s lifestyle. I know my aunt didn’t birth a fool, don’t make her turn in her grave. The most you can do for a man is a sneaker and a leather jacket if he is into that, don’t go further. And… and maybe a Patek Philippe watch—”
“Never! Asoze! A what? I might as well buy him a Ferrari mos? Do you know how much those watches cost? Boma 500 drillion for entry level models. I remember my mother fainted countless times after asking my father what he wanted for his birthday and he said a Patek Philippe watch,” we both laugh.
“The guy knows you have the money so he might want a Lamborghini for his birthday.”
“I love me some cucumber but I love my parents more, I’m not about to let them down just like that.”
Coming here really helped, I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’m ready to make that call and apologise to Sabelo for being harsh.
*****
SABELO
I’m busy with a client when my phone vibrates and Nomvula’s name flashes on the screen. I silence the call, to respect the client. I know I would be frustrated if someone would be checking his phone in the middle of a meeting. She doesn’t call again and I appreciate that. She sends a text instead. It reads:
‘Babe, I’m sorry about yesterday. I said things that I shouldn’t have said. Can I cook dinner for you tonight and apologise properly?’
I put the phone down and focus on the meeting. The meeting drags way longer than I expected. By the time we are done, I’m not in the mood to be still in this office.
“You look happier than the man who walked into the office in the morning. What happened?” Astrid asks.
“Let’s just say what I was worried about is sorted. I’m out of here—”
“Wait. Someone was calling you and she said it’s urgent.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t remember but I noted the number down,” she hands me a piece of paper.
“Sure, thanks. I will call her.” I grab my bags and walk out of the office. I love the freedom that my job affords me. I don’t have to be suffocating in the office the whole day, I can work from anywhere.
I dial the number just as I drive out of the office premises.
“Old Mutual Offices, hello,” a feminine voice says.
“Cuz, is that you?”
“Oh, Sabza, yes. I have been looking for you.”
“Did you try my house and my workplace?”
“No, silly! When are you visiting us, by us I mean Old Mutual.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I saw that you haven’t claimed the money—”
“Isn’t that against work ethics?”
“I’m only looking out for you, here. You don’t want to come here and find out the money has been claimed by someone. Insurance fraud is real in these companies.”
“I’m in the middle of something, I will call you back.”
I won’t call her back, I just don’t like people meddling in my business.
*****
I sit in the car outside Nomvula’s house. My eye keeps wandering between the entrance and the business card that David gave me. I don’t know why Nomvula thinks he is a bad guy because everything in me says David is just being friendly. I love cars and if I could be taught the ropes on how to acquire these machines, I would be the happiest man alive.
I never really participated in this hobby of mine when my wife was still alive because just like Nomvula, she did not play with money. She believed so much in saving for rainy days and investing in real estate. She had not bought another property but our house was fully paid for in less than five years due to her financial discipline. Now that she is gone, as sad as that is, I feel like this is the time for me to live the life I want. I have no responsibilities except Junior and Nomvula is not with me because of hunger so I should be fine. I will be fine.
I pick up the card, type the number on my phone and dial David. The phone rings unanswered. I call again and still, no answer. I decide to leave a voicemail. I have to be at the Cape Town auction.
I get down the car and lock it. I make my way towards the entrance thinking that I also have to apologise to Nomvula for what I said. It was uncalled for. I knock on the door and wait. It doesn’t take long before the door is opened.
“Damn, girl!” I fail to hold myself when my eyes land on her. She’s wearing an oversized shirt, the top buttons are undone leaving her cleavage out for my eyes to feast on. Her nipples are pointing under the shirt, exciting every part of my body under my navel.
“Hey babe,” she greets.
“Hey gorgeous,” I lean down and kiss her on the forehead.
“Come in,” she turns and leads the way. My brain is on the fifth style I am imagining when she tells me to snap out of it. “You are daydreaming?”
“A man is allowed to dream, right? Especially when someone decides to look all kinds of delicious out of the blue,” I tease.
“You can turn your dreams into reality after eating or better yet, I will be your dessert,” she winks and my guy down there twitches. “How was your day?”
“Crappy. Until I received your text. Come here,” I softly pull her to me. I make her sit on my lap and wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry S’thandwa sami. What I said was uncalled for and you don’t deserve such from me. I’m really sorry. It will never happen again and I will never again make you feel like you have to compete with my late wife.”
“It’s okay, we were both angry and said hurtful things to each other. I’m also sorry.”
“I love you, Nomvula,” the words escape my lips before I can process them, but they still feel right.
“W.. what did you just say?” she’s stunned.
“I love you,” I look into her tearing eyes. I cup her cheek with my left hand and bring her face towards mine…
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