“How are you?” he asked me. We hadn’t spoken since the fight on Sunday night.
“I’m fine,” I answered through clenched teeth. So now he cared about my well-being, when we had been together under the same roof for a week without his acknowledging me or asking about his son.
“I heard you’re learning how to drive.”
“Yes.” I brushed bread crumbs off my new pair of maternity jeans. These days I always seemed to be covered in crumbs, even before I had breakfast.
“Is this the right time to be learning how to drive?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean in your condition. Should you be learning in this condition?”
“My condition is not a problem.” And it really wasn’t. I’d already driven on a road, although it was a straight route and one with little traffic and the driving instructor was by my side with his set of controls. But it was still driving.
“Well, I think it’s best to wait until you have the baby. It’s safer.”
“Pregnant women drive all the time. Besides, I can’t wait when Mensah is misbehaving. Did he tell you that he was late picking me up on Monday and didn’t offer an apology or explanation?”
“But that’s nothing, Afi. That’s not a reason to start driving yourself around.”
“It’s not the only thing he’s done. I’m not going to sit down for everyone to disrespect me in this house. I also deserve respect.”
“Look, I don’t have the time to get into another argument with you. Just hold off on this driving business.”
“I don’t have the time either and I’m not holding off.”
The next day was Fred’s party. Eli knocked on my door after his breakfast but didn’t enter when I asked him to. Instead he told me through the closed door that we would leave at three. Fred and his family lived at Cantonments, near the new international school. There were so many cars parked along his street that we had to walk about three minutes from our car to his house. I didn’t mind the walk; I was just happy not to be sharing close quarters with Eli. Our ride over had been strained, with him looking straight ahead and me looking out my window. Thank God for the radio.
Fred and Cecelia welcomed us with hugs and big smiles. This was only my second time visiting their home.
“How come we never see you?” Cecelia chided me. She was holding my hand and leading me outside where their guests sat in thatched palaver huts that dotted the green of the backyard. The huts had been brought in specifically for the party.
“Eli is very busy,” I told her.
“But you don’t need Eli to bring you here; you have your own car, you can come on your own.”
“I will try.”
“You should, I want to see more of you.”
We walked around and she introduced me to some of their friends. Somehow, I felt more at ease at this party than the one Yaya had taken me to. Not because the people here weren’t sophisticated, but that they were subtler in their sophistication. In fact, most of them, both men and women, were dressed in shorts and sandals, and when they spoke, it was without a hint of American or English accents. I mentioned this to Cecelia, in the kitchen where she was checking on the caterer, and she laughed. “Yaya’s friends are young and young people like to show off,” she said. Laugh lines framed both corners of her mouth. She couldn’t be more than forty years old.
“And you know how our dear sister-in-law is,” she said with a wink. I smiled and nodded, not sure what to say. This was new terrain for me. I only ever discussed the Ganyos with my mother, Mawusi, and Evelyn, and as far as I was concerned, Cecelia was one of the Ganyos.
“You know she’ll be here soon.”
“Yaya?”
“Yes.”
“She had to go to Ho to comfort her mother who is still recovering from your insubordination,” Cecelia said again, and this time she chuckled. I tried to laugh but it came out sounding like a cough.
“Are you okay? Do you want some water?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Well, I want to congratulate you for what you did. It’s about time that someone stood up to Aunty.” She looked around after she said this, as though she expected one of her in-laws to be hiding nearby.
“I wasn’t trying to pick a fight with Aunty. I just wanted them to do something about the woman. I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”
“And you were right. What they did to you wasn’t fair. How could they deposit you in that barren flat and just leave you there like that? Are you not his wife?”
“Do you know the woman?”
“Which woman?”
“Muna,” I let her name slip off of my tongue. I wanted to spit afterward.
“Not really. You know Fred has never approved of the relationship and she has never liked him either so we rarely went over. In fact, we only went there when the little girl was sick. Even Richard rarely went to that house. It’s only because of you that they are now able to visit their brother’s house freely. They should throw a party to thank you.”
I’d never seen this side of her before. She had been kind but not this friendly during our first visit. It seemed like she had now decided that I was someone she could be more open with. But could I be open with her? I didn’t have to answer that question because we soon heard Yaya’s voice in the hallway and went out to greet her. She looked glamorous as always. She now had an afro that I thought was too thick to be natural, and she stood tall in a flower-patterned maxi dress and high-heeled sandals. She hugged me as if nothing was amiss and we ended up sitting at the same table in the backyard. Eli was chatting with a group of men close by. I expected Yaya to ask about Ho but she didn’t. Instead she wanted to know how I was. I told her that I had been to the hospital last week for my prenatal checkup. We talked about my school and the fact that I would be graduating in under six months.
“What will you be doing after graduation?”
“I want to open a boutique.”
“A boutique is an excellent idea,” Yaya said. “Have you told Fo Eli?”
“We discussed it a while ago. He said I could open a boutique in the new mall. But it won’t be completed for a while.”
“Well, you should remind him. He also has shares in one of the luxury towers that just opened near the airport. That would be a prime location to set up shop as well. Anyone who’s anyone is going to be shopping there so there will be no shortage of customers with money to spend.”
I perked up at her response. She was right, owning a shop at that location would be perfect for business. Only rich people could afford the types of clothes I wanted to make.
“I will talk to Eli,” I told her. I was already imagining what my boutique would look like, the displays, the mannequins. I would have a leather sofa, a white one, for customers to rest on, and would serve them champagne in flutes; I’d seen that at a boutique in Osu that Evelyn had taken me to. There would be freshly cut flowers in crystal vases and a uniformed doorman who let customers in and out.
“Yes, you should. And you should remember all that my mother has done for you.”
“Pardon?” The colorful pictures in my head vanished.
“I said you should remember where you came from and all that we have done for you,” she said in her perfect English. The sides of her mouth were turned up into a slight smile, as though the content of the conversation had not changed. “And like I said, your boutique is an excellent idea,” she continued, as though she couldn’t see the tightening of my lips. Aunty must have sent her to deliver this message.
I excused myself to go to the bathroom, afraid of what I would say if I stayed seated at the table. As I left the bathroom, still fuming, I bumped into someone. It took a moment for me to recognize the smiling, bald-headed figure. It was Abraham from the party Yaya had taken me to.
“How are you?” he asked, his eyes shining and his smile getting wider by the second.
“I’m fine, and you?”
“Perfect, now that I’v
e seen you. You look great!” he said.
“Thank you.”
“You look like a different person.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Yes, but that’s not it. You look incredible, like you’ve been spending a lot of time with your sister-in-law and her chic friends.”
“I’m a designer myself,” I said, irritated by the entire conversation. Why was he behaving as if I had looked like a maidservant the last time he saw me?
“So, I’ve heard.”
“How was your trip?”
“It was good. I got back ages ago and wanted to reach out to you, but then I found out who your husband is. Only a fool would piss him off,” he said and then laughed awkwardly.
“Well, it’s nice to see you,” I said, wanting the conversation to end.
“Yeah, you too. See you around.”
Eli and I fought again when we got home. That idiot Mensah had told him that I went to the driving school after he asked me to stop and now he wanted to know why I’d “disobeyed” him. Disobeyed! If it wasn’t his sister, then it was him reminding me of my place.
“I went because I want to, Eli. It’s what I want to do.” We were standing at the bottom of the staircase.
“Stop being difficult. For once, just listen to what I’m saying.”
“Why should I listen to you? Do you ever listen to me? You don’t even talk to me. You don’t treat me like your wife so why should I listen to you?”
“What do you mean I don’t treat you like my wife? Are you not living in this house? Didn’t I go to the party with you?”
“You think that’s enough? Me living in this house and you taking me to a party?”
“What more do you want?”
“Oh, do you want a list? Because I can give you a list, a very long list. First of all, you haven’t married me in a church.”
“What are you even talking about now?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Look, I don’t have time for this. I do not want you back at that driving school and that’s final.”
“Okay, wait and see what happens on Monday,” I said to him and began stomping up the stairs, my purse in one hand and one of the silver gift bags that Cecelia had given out at the end of the evening in another. Halfway to the top I missed a step, and because of the bags in my hand, couldn’t grab the railing in time. I tried to break the fall with my hands but my stomach still hit the sharp edge of a step. The pain was so severe that my howl woke up the staff in their backyard quarters. Eli was on his knees beside me in a breath. He carried me down the stairs and, despite my protests, bundled me into the car and drove me to the clinic. The doctor wasn’t even at the clinic and had to be called in from her home, which was a few kilometers away. After listening to the baby’s heartbeat and doing a fetal scan, she assured us that everything was alright. Indeed, I felt fine. The pain had subsided by the time we had reached the main road, but Eli insisted we go to the clinic and now he was insisting that they keep me overnight for observation. It was clear that the poor doctor wanted to go home and to bed, but she wasn’t going to argue with Eli so they both slept in chairs by my bedside. She conducted another scan before we left the clinic that morning. At the house, Mrs. Adams had breakfast waiting and Eli brought it up to me in bed. This was the first time he had been in the master bedroom since I moved in. He sat on the edge of the mattress and waited quietly as I ate my burnt toast.
“More?” he asked when I was finished. I shook my head. I just wanted to take a bath and get back into bed.
“No, I’m fine. I want to take a bath.”
He took the tray off my lap, set it on the bedside table, and stretched out a hand to me. I took it and he helped me to my feet and led me into the bathroom. I thought he would leave me alone in there but he stayed. I looked at him, seeking an explanation but he said nothing. Instead he came closer and began to undo the top button on my dress.
“Eli?”
“Let me help you.”
I stood quietly, barely breathing as he undid the buttons. I felt my skin jump every time his hands brushed against me. I covered my chest and belly with my hands when my dress came off. I gasped when his fingers touched my back, he was undoing the clasp on my bra, and I shuddered when he began to pull down my panties.
“Eli?”
“Yes?”
I wanted him. I was naked and he was fully clothed staring at my body as if it was his first time seeing me like this. He reached out and spread his hands against my stomach, as though trying to envelop our baby.
“Does it hurt?” He was touching the red bruise on my belly where I had hit the step.
“No.”
His hand fell away and I climbed into the bathtub and sank into the warm water. He knelt beside me and began to wash me with the loofah. When I flinched, he switched to using the face towel. I closed my eyes and gripped the curved rim of the bathtub when he began to soap my breasts and then I felt his lips pressed against mine. I kissed him back, maybe a little too hungrily, but it had been so long. I took the towel from him, dropped it into the water, and guided his hands between my legs. I cried out when he touched me and shook so much that I splashed him with water. In the bedroom, he joined me in bed, but despite being pressed against my back and cradling my breasts, refused to unzip his trousers. He stilled my hand when I reached out to do it myself.
“What’s wrong?” I knew he wanted me, I could feel him.
“The baby.”
“It’s fine. The doctor said it’s fine.”
“But that was before you fell. Let’s wait for a few days.”
“No, no, please, no.”
I turned to face him. “I need you. Please. You only need to be gentle.” A small, exhilarated cry escaped my lips when he reached down to unzip his trousers.
My mother came to visit for Christmas and stayed after the holidays. Eli and I visited Ho on Boxing Day to give gifts to our families. Mawusi had come to Accra to help me shop; I was determined not to forget any of my cousins. We spent days in the malls, looking for something for each of them, even though Eli begged me to stay off my feet. Mawusi carried a list and crossed out a name after each purchase. We bought mostly clothing but a few of the older cousins got electronics. Shopping with Mawusi and handing out the gifts made me happy. My father was the one who used to buy Christmas presents for everyone, so while the older cousins remembered the gesture, the younger ones were in awe, never having received gifts wrapped in sparkling paper before. They carefully unwrapped the presents, saving the boxes and paper they came in. I knew they would all be reused. Of course, I had to give money and foodstuffs to the older people who only wanted a gift box if it contained cash. Tɔgã Pious was furious when I gave him the same amount as his wives, but this time I didn’t give in. I was getting used to his anger. He had been angry for weeks after I sent the twins back and had taken to calling and delivering tirades. Now, I rarely answered when he called. He frowned for the rest of my visit and refused to wave as Eli and I drove away but I didn’t care.
We went to inspect my house after this. The painting of the exterior was completed; all that was left was to paint the interior. My mother would be able to move in by the end of January. Eli suggested we erect a stand for a water tank behind the house and that we raise the fence a few inches. He promised to send people over to do these things. My mother thanked him but he only complimented me on putting up the house, as though it wasn’t his money that had made it all possible.
“I should thank you,” I said to him. We were in the kitchen and I was leaning against him, my feet already tired.
“Why?”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
“I don’t believe that. I think you would have built this house, even if you had never met me.”
I beamed at the praise and his generosity and hugged him.
After the house, we had lunch at Aunty’s and then Eli gave her his gift, two new vans to t
ransport goods from the factories in Tema to her depot. He told her it was from us, but when she said “thank you,” it was only to him. I wasn’t surprised; she knew it was his money that bought the vans and she had still not forgiven me for leaving her son and refusing to return when she ordered me to. She had never been a warm person, but now when she spoke, I sensed a sharp undertone. My mother and I avoided her for most of the visit, instead sitting in her garden and exploring the parts of the huge house we were allowed to enter. It was dark and I was asleep when we arrived back in Accra.
I returned to school in the new year. Most weeks I attended at least three out of five days and sometimes I drove myself. But it was becoming harder to do either. My feet swelled so much that I took to wearing my soft bedroom slippers to school, and there were many days when I didn’t even make it down the stairs. Mrs. Adams prepared my meals under my mother’s supervision; she’d come to Accra laden with all kinds of herbs and with a gallon of palm oil. I don’t think I’d ever seen so much oil floating on soup before. Ma insisted that I needed the extra fat for the baby. If you asked me, the baby didn’t need any more fat, not when my stomach looked like I was carrying twins. In addition to feeding me oil, she rubbed unprocessed cocoa butter on my stomach twice a day to help with the stretch marks.
“It worked for me,” she said, when I protested the amount of butter she used. My bedsheets were always stained dark with oil spots. I had Hawa change them every day. I didn’t mind sleeping on those sheets so much but I couldn’t let Eli sleep on them.
He had moved into the master bedroom after I fell, and he took over the cocoa butter-rubbing duties on the days that he got home early enough. He made it home for supper most evenings and I tried to be in the kitchen when Mrs. Adams prepared the evening meal. It was the least I could do. I faced no more resistance from her, not since Eli sat her down and gave her a good talking to. Eli replaced Mensah with a new driver in January; Yeboah was an older man who knew to follow my instructions and not give me attitude. Eli and I also went baby-furniture shopping in January. After the frenzy of the Christmas shopping period, the stores were almost empty.
His Only Wife Page 19
