THE COVEN’S BRIDE
CHAPTER 8
NALEDI
Tshidi is at the salon where I work to undo her hair. She had this for less than a week, and she wants to take it off. She says it disturbs her when she is doing women-on-top. She wants Maxwell to look at her face clearly when she rides him. I trust Tshidi to say that in a salon full of people. She only wants me to do her hair, and today it seems she wasn’t patient enough to wait for me to knock off work.
Usually, I wash her hair at the salon and then plait her hair at home. I do the same with her mother. It helps me make extra cash. I didn’t mind doing their hair for free, but they said nothing is for free, meaning they have to pay me. I can’t say no to money. They always pay me extra, and I think that is their way of giving me money indirectly.
“I forgot to ask, what happened with Mr Gorgeous from the party?” Tshidi asks me.
“Not so loud.”
Not keeping her voice down, she says, “Relax, everyone is minding their own business.”
“I am older than him, but I gave him my phone number. We have been talking, and he is a very good communicator.”
Tshidi says, “How young is he?”
“A couple of months younger than me, he is 29.”
“That’s not bad. You can deal with that, right? He doesn’t look 29, and as long as you keep your lips sealed, no one will know. You can bang 29, right?” I swear, when Tshidi visits the salon, everyone knows my business. My girl cannot keep her voice down.
“I don’t know. He is too handsome for me. A man shouldn’t look that yummy.”
She moved her head so she could look at me. “Girl, are you losing your mind a little? Do you maybe want me to punch some sense into you? Who doesn’t want a man who looks good?”
“He looks too good.”
“Yeah, meaning he will one day give you cute babies. You need to think of your children,” she says. And who said I want to have children with him? Is Tshidi crazy?
“Please sit still, you are very famous, and I get good clients from you, so I need your hair to be perfect.”
“Why are you still working here? I told you to open your salon,” she says, still not keeping her voice.
My boss clears her throat and says, passing by. “Tshidi, are you trying to make me lose my best hairdresser? Don’t give her ideas, please. Naledi is the best I have – many clients want their hair done by her.”
“This is your sign to pay her more, Martha, my girl can do this on her own and even better,” Tshidi answers.
“But your girl is broke and cannot do a thing of her own, now sit still.”
“I have told you this, I can always give you the money,” says Tshidi.
I know she can give me the money, but I don’t want handouts. I want to do it on my own. I don’t want to owe anyone anything. I know Tshidi doesn’t mind, but she has done so much for me, and I don’t want to take advantage of her kindness. I will one day open my salon. My phone rings in my jean pocket and I reach for it. I roll my eyes when I see it’s my aunt. I wonder what she wants. I answer the call and balance it with my shoulder and head.
Me: Aunty!
Aunty: Naledi, my child, how are you?
Me: I am good, how are you?
Aunty: We are good, you hate us these days. Since you left, you barely talk to us.
Me: Work, we are busy these days.
Aunty: Listen…can you watch Ayanda and Xola this weekend for me? I have a meeting with ladies from church.
Me: I am so sorry, I have plans for the weekend.
Aunty: What plans? Can’t you cancel? I need you.
Me: I can’t cancel; I am sorry.
Aunty: Naledi, I have plans, please help me.
Me: Aunty, I also have plans.
Aunty: I see what this is, you now have your place, and you don’t see us as people.
Me: Where is that even coming from?
Aunty: It’s fine, Naledi, live in your house, one day you will need us, and we will tell you we have plans.
Me: I…
She hung up on me. I sigh and shove my phone back in my pocket. “Do you want to talk about it?” Tshidi asks, and I shake my head no. “F*ck her!”
I laugh. I trust Tshidi to say that. “Hey, that’s my aunt, don’t say that.”
“I don’t care, f*ck her. How dare she ruin your day like that?”
I say, “You don’t even know what she said.”
“I don’t care, f*ck her and her family.”
“Sit still, geez lady,” I say.
I know I shouldn’t let her speak like that about my family, but she knows how my aunt is. I continue doing Tshidi’s hair. My phone rings again. I take it out of my pocket and hand it to Tshidi without checking who is calling.
“Tell my aunt I went to the bathroom.”
“It’s not her,” she says, putting the phone to her ear. ‘Hey stranger!’ she listens.
“Tshidi, who is that?”
‘The one and only,’ she says on the phone. Then she adds. ‘I don’t want to.’
I take the phone from her – it’s Sibusiso calling.
Me: Hey, sorry about that.
Sibusiso: No worries. How are you?
Me: I am good. How are you?
Sibusiso: Good, now that I have talked to you. About our date this weekend…
Me: Are you cancelling?
Sibusiso: I would never! What kind of setting do you prefer? Quiet restaurant or picnic around nature.
Me: Picnic around nature.
Sibusiso: I am so looking forward to Saturday. I cannot wait to see your gorgeous face.
Me: See you Saturday.
I hang up and put my phone in my pocket, then continue with what I was doing. “See you on Saturday,” Tshidi mimics my voice.
“Girl shut up.”
“Look at you smiling. Do you like him?” she asks.
I pause and nod. I think I like him already. That night, after our lunch, I pressed my thighs together with his face on my mind. I think I have fallen in love with him. “You didn’t sound sure not so long ago, and now, after hearing his voice, you are sure?”
“Tshidi, let me be please.”
She asks, “Do you think he can make you happy? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“If he hurts me, we can always slash his four tiers or break his legs.”
“You know I would go to jail for you. Let him try to hurt you, and I will deal with him,” she says, causing me to laugh.
“There is no need for that. He seems like a decent man. If things don’t work out, so be it.”
“I don’t care, I will still break his legs,” she says and shifts her head, looking at herself in the mirror. “Are we done yet?”
“Sit still, I will tell you when we are done.”
Tshidi whistles when a delivery man walks in with a huge bundle of red roses. “Whose man sent that?”
I lean and whisper to Tshidi. “I think it’s Johana, she has a sugar daddy.”
“Delivery for Snowy!” The man announces.
Tshidi looks at me, and I shrug. I walk to the delivery man to check if he didn’t get the wrong person, but they are mine. Tshidi snatches the card and reads it. “I thought of you when I saw these.”
I laugh, “Who wrote that?”
“Gumbi? Who is Gumbi?”
A smile spreads across my face. They are from Sibusiso. Isn’t he lovely? How can I not fall in love with him?