Note Worthy

by Dhasi Mwale

  He gave her a gentle smile filled with all the love a woman could ever ask for. “Because you’ll regret this in the morning. I don’t want you to regret it.”

  “Wezi. I want this. In case you haven’t noticed, no one can make me do what I don’t want to do.”

  He stroked her face and touched his lips to hers just so—a light brush of a kiss that made her want him more. “And I love that about you. But right now, at this moment, you aren’t fully in control. So much has happened today. Tell you what. If you still feel the same way tomorrow, I’ll be more than willing to finish this.”

  “You’re such an ass,” she whispered and lay back, still swimming with desire.

  ***

  Sleep did nothing to dampen the fire Wezi had lit inside her, and all night Katenekwa chased images of what could have been.

  In the morning, she sang in the shower. The smug look on Wezi’s face told her he knew he’d made her sing. He didn’t bring up last night’s kiss, and she was uncertain whether to be relieved or worried.

  On the one hand, she was desperate to talk to him about it. For them to relive last night’s desire. For him to fill the need inside her that kept growing in his presence. But perhaps steering clear of any reminder of their lust was the better, more mature option. Even though the very sight of him made her wet.

  Being near him probably wasn’t the best choice. Still, she asked him to drive the car while she ran errands. Desire defeats logic.

  He agreed to chauffeur her on the condition that she let him pick the routes. It took a lot of convincing for her inner critic to go to bed, but in the end, practicality won. His driving meant she could work while they commuted between places. And with so much to catch up on, she needed the extra hands.

  Katenekwa had begged the AV company to come an hour earlier, even if it would cost her. She’d done a lot of apologizing, and they’d agreed.

  Katenekwa approached the central platform, pride welling up inside her. Finally, she’d achieved what she set out to do.

  The stage matched the design sketches to the tee. The company had delivered on every detail. Seeing the setup made this festival more real than it had ever been.

  The finality elated her. Success was no longer the dream of an overambitious girl filling in her college withdrawal papers against her father’s wish. It was worth it.

  “What do you think?” she asked Wezi.

  He draped his hand over her shoulder, nestling her close to his chest. She instinctively slipped her arm around his waist. “I love the aesthetics. If the sound is good, then you, my love, are the best event planner ever.”

  Tiny fairies danced on her neck and cheeks. “You want to give it a try?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He practically skipped to the stage, giddy with excitement.

  Wezi set up his guitar and sang as if she weren’t his only audience. He loved his music. She felt guilty for wanting him to take any typical contract. Wezi didn’t do this for the money; it was who he was.

  “How’s the sound?” Wezi shouted from the stage after his song.

  Katenekwa signalled a thumbs up.

  “Miss Mwaba?” a voice asked from behind her.

  She turned. “Yes. You must be Mr Chewe. Call me Katenekwa.”

  “Sorry for the delay.” The middle-aged man had an easiness about him that she rarely saw in men his age.

  “Oh, no. I’m the one who should apologize for yesterday. We got stuck in traffic.”

  “It’s fine. Fine. These things happen. How do you like the stage? We followed your specifications to the letter.”

  “I see that, and I’m grateful. We were so lucky to find you. The sound is amazing. I’m very pleased.”

  “Excellent. Is he one of the performers?”

  “Yes. That’s Wezi.”

  “Hmm. I thought it would be a typical youth concert with all that loud music you young ones listen to. Will there be others like him?”

  “We have all kinds of music. All tastes will be catered to, I guarantee it. So, pick up a ticket and come. Bring your loved ones. It’s a family affair.”

  He nodded. “I’ll consider it… Anyway, if you’re happy with the service, I suppose we can sign some papers.”

  “Okay then. Let me show you where to set up the other stages.”

  She left Wezi to his music and busied herself with the AV company. They set up the festival’s other four stages in record time. Granted, those were less complicated than the central platform, where the main event would take place. However, the stages needed to be far enough from each other that the sounds wouldn’t overlap.

  Mike and Lilian had made sure none of the crowd favourites would perform simultaneously with a detailed line-up. All in all, it would be a music festival to rival all others—if everything went according to plan.

  Katenekwa returned to find Wezi seated on the stairs to the main podium, singing to himself. He sang songs about loss and pain. The one he sang now, from what she could hear, was neither.

  She listened to his beautiful ballad but didn’t approach him. Could she be the woman about whom he sang? She was getting quite big-headed. He’d named his guitar for her, and now she thought he was writing songs about her. Eish! To have a song written about her, though…

  “I know you’re back there,” he said, still strumming soft tunes on Kitty.

  “Do you have eyes in the back of your head?” she joked and went around to the stairs. To stop her hands from seeking contact, she clasped them behind her back.

  “Maybe.” He nudged her with his elbow and smiled up at her. “Hey, you don’t look too happy. Did the deal fall off?”

  The concern in his eyes was so heart-warming. “No. It worked out all right. And he was a gentleman. He didn’t even ask me to cover the cost of today’s setup. He liked your song.”

  “Yeah. The older folk tend to.”

  Katenekwa saw a sombreness in Wezi that she’d never seen before. A part of him hidden deep under his happy-go-lucky exterior. She caught a glimpse of the guy who sang the blues. “You’re kind of an old soul, aren’t you, Wezi?”

  “I’m a product of my circumstances, I suppose. Side effects of being raised by one’s grandmother, wouldn’t you agree?” He had a faraway look in his eyes. “Your dad’s proud of you. Doing all this.”

  She shrugged. “Now. He wasn’t too happy when I dropped out of college, though. He’s come around. We were too wild for him, K and I.”

  Wezi chuckled softly. “I’d never imagined anyone using wild to describe you. K, definitely. You? You’re too cautious to be wild.”

  “What can I say? I’m too wilful for Dad.”

  “I wonder what my parents would think about me doing this. On the one hand, they’d be supportive because they were just those kinds of people. On the other hand, Mom would be totally freaking out about the modelling. I know Grandma is. I think she prefers the deli job.”

  Katenekwa sat quietly as if breathing too loudly would bring back the pain of his loss.

  He rarely spoke of his parents.

  She understood. She never spoke about her mother. Most times, she convinced herself it was because she hardly remembered her.

  Today was not most times, and she struggled to steer clear of the memory of blood and burning tires. The memory of waking up in the hospital weeks later, bandaged, in pain, only to be told her mother was gone. She rubbed her shoulder, failing to inhale.

  “Hey, about last night,” Wezi said and saved her from asphyxiation.

  Katenekwa shook her head. “We don’t have to talk about it. Like you said, a lot happened.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  Her regret was not the issue here. She regretted nothing and would do it all over again if he asked and that was precisely the problem. It wasn’t who she was. She didn’t throw herself willy-nilly into men’s hands no matter how much she desired them. If only her brain could function normally around Wezi.

  “I don’t,” she said in earnest.<
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  “Great,” he said, grinning. “Are you working tonight?”

  “I’m always working. Why?”

  “There’s this awesome place K and I used to go. It’s an outdoor pub. Music, games, beer. It’s crazy fun. I know you’re not much of a drinker, and I promise not to get you drunk.”

  “Are you asking me out?” Katenekwa sought out his eyes.

  She expected him to make light of it and call her silly like he usually did. Instead, she was surprised to see his face turn serious. “Yeah. Will you come?”

  Would she? It was all she’d ever wished for. She silenced the part of her brain demanding for her to think it through. So overdramatic. It was just a date. Besides, didn’t she owe it to herself to see what happens? Better than spending forever wondering if he’d ever liked her as much as she’d adored him. Yeah. She needed this for closure.

  “I would love to go out with you tonight. But right now, I need to get to Media GQ. Do you want a ride home?”

  “No. I’ll find my way.” He zipped up his guitar case. “Besides, I love walking around with this badass guitar on my back. See you later, love.” He placed a light kiss goodbye on her forehead, sending her into a frenzy.

  What had she done?

  Chapter 7

  Katenekwa spent the day oscillating between excitement and panic.

  She made several attempts throughout the day to put her dilemma to rest once and for all. Would she go against her principles or let Wezi down?

  Those few seconds after he’d invited her out had been the hardest, most indecisive of her life. She’d felt like a spectator in the battle between her mind and heart.

  The heart had won. But was it the right choice?

  Unable to focus on her work, Katenekwa announced that she’d be leaving the office early. She needed time to get her shit together before her date. After all her years of pining for Wezi, she owed it to herself to give it a try—damn the consequences and fears.

  “Gwen, I’m leaving soon. Do you need anything before I go?” she called from the back office. No answer. “Gwen?”

  She picked her bag, suppressed the desire to skip, and went into the front office. At the sight of Josiah at the door, her elation took a speedy exit. Blackness claimed her soul and extinguished the last shreds of euphoria.

  She forced a smile, shunted away from the part of her brain that was screaming and spoke. “Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Hey. I met Gwen at the bank earlier, and she mentioned you were leaving early today. I figured I’d come by and see if you’re up for an evening out.”

  So many reasons not to.

  She had a real chance with Wezi, the guy who had no idea Josiah even existed. She wasn’t dating Josiah per se, and by per se, she meant she refused to label their romantic entanglement. Was she two-timing them? Was this what cheating looked like?

  Oh, God! How had it come to this? Dating two guys at the same time went against her every moral fibre. No matter how acceptable her peers and her elders made it seem, she didn’t believe in having a guy on the back burner. And in this scenario, who was on the back burner? Or was she switching them around like board game pieces?

  She inhaled and postponed her panic attack. “Oh. Okay. Um. Let me finish here. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “Sure thing.” He beamed and walked out.

  Oh, Lord! How was she going to get out of this? She couldn’t lie to his face again. He didn’t deserve that from her. He didn’t deserve any of the heartbreak she’d put him through if she chose Wezi.

  Wait. Hadn’t she already chosen Wezi?

  Gwen walked into the office as Katenekwa stumbled toward the back office.

  “Hey, you leaving now?”

  Katenekwa glared at Gwen. “You told Josiah I was leaving early? Why?”

  Gwen halted halfway into the office and looked at her, face set in puzzlement. “Because you’ve been complaining about not having time to go on a proper date with him. I guessed that’s why you were leaving early. You had an I-have-a-date look in your eyes all afternoon.”

  Katenekwa rubbed her temples. “I do have a date. With Wezi.”

  Gwen’s jaw dropped. “I thought you said you were just friends?”

  “We are. It’s complicated. Oh, God, what do I do?” The strength left Katenekwa’s knees, and she leaned into the door frame.

  Gwen eyed her suspiciously. “You always say you don’t date musicians. Wezi is a musician.”

  “You think I don’t know that? I just—Gwen, stay out of my love life, okay?” she said, her tone harsher than she’d meant it to be.

  The amusement fled Gwen’s face. “Yeah, sure thing, boss. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Katenekwa was sure she heard a sneer in Gwen’s statement.

  “Thanks,” Katenekwa said in lieu of an apology.

  Josiah was waiting in the reception area, perusing a National Geographic magazine. She’d seen this guy read food labels with the same fervour. It’s what had attracted her to him in the dentist’s office where they’d met a year ago.

  She had been so unfair to Josiah. It was her fault things hadn’t progressed between them. She’d been putting him off, keeping a light in the window for the would-be playboy who’d abandoned her. She was stupid, wasn’t she?

  Here was a man who’d been waiting for her for over a year, and she was fawning over someone who’d ghosted her for almost two years.

  Lillian was right. There was no future with Wezi. So, she exiled her emotions and libido to a dark corner of her being and faced Josiah with the resolve to give him a real chance.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “A client gave me some tickets.” He pulled the tickets from his back pocket. “I think it’s an amusement park. Want to check it out?”

  Katenekwa kept herself from gaping at him. “Um, sure. You really want to go there?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, sounds like fun. We need to change, though.”

  ***

  The park was rather busy for a weekday. There was a queue for every single ride. Katenekwa and Josiah spent most of the time leisurely exploring the park, contented simply to be in each other’s company.

  Dates with Josiah were always so comfortable. So familiar. He didn’t plunge her into raving madness and spur irrational thoughts. His presence didn’t make her want to dance in the rain or sprint across highways. His touch didn’t send her into insatiable need, and she didn’t moan his name when he met her gaze. He was what she needed. Sanity. She’d be foolish to not recognize the far-reaching potential of this match.

  Afterwards, guilt met her at the door of her flat with the realization that she’d stood Wezi up. Uncertainty sprouted, and she wrestled with the what-ifs.

  What if Wezi wasn’t a flirt? What if things could work out? What if he loved her like no one ever would?

  But in all her inquiry, one fact stuck out: She’d only believe he could be an honest man if he wasn’t a singer. Thus, she marched into the house, determined to put the brakes on the runaway car that was her entanglement with Wezi. But seeing him, legs tucked under him, playing his guitar, knocked her hat full of sound reasoning into the abyss. How could she let him down? Her restless mind demanded that she turn tail, but her feet ignored the instructions.

  Wezi looked up from writing on his music pad and took off the headphones. “Hey. Couldn’t get off work?”

  She hated to lie and scratched her neck instead. “So, I guess we’re going out another night.”

  “Are you kidding me? The place really starts to liven up around this time. We can still go.”

  To a rough pub, at eleven at night. This was the life Wezi represented, and she had to admit she wasn’t the spontaneous, outgoing type. She’d never been dancing, and as far as drinking, she only did so at social gatherings and never in pubs. This wasn’t the life for her. If ever there was a reason to let Wezi down, here it was.

  “I’m beat. Maybe some other time. Or we can have a quiet dinner instead?”


  With all the double meals she’d had this week, she’d gain a few pounds by the time Wezi left or her lies caught up with her. Imagine, not only was her deception costing her mental health, but it could also literally cost her physical health. Talk about karma.

  Wezi studied her with accusatory eyes as if he knew she was rejecting him because of another man. “Yeah. I guess we can.”

  She suffocated in the disappointment in his eyes. “Why did you want to go to a pub anyway? You said you aren’t a party boy.”

  “I’m not. It was part of this whole K memorial tour I had planned. I know everyone sees K as the reckless playboy, but that’s not the K I knew. He was so much more. And it’s not all pubs. Just this one. It’s special.”

  Now she felt like an ass. She deserved to drown in an endless ocean of guilt, forever and ever. Damn it. “Oh, fine then. Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. A drink or two won’t hurt.”

  ***

  They arrived at the pub a few minutes shy of midnight and parked in a spot on the far end of the crowded lot. If one could call the unmarked lot – about the size of half a football ground – a parking lot.

  Katenekwa stared in awe at the venue. It gave the phrase ‘beer garden’ a very literal meaning. Different coloured patio chairs and tables were arranged in no discernible pattern around a stage, where a trio of drunk girls sang at the top of their lungs, breaking every single law of music and torturing their listeners. But they seemed to be having the time of their lives, and the audience didn’t look like they’d come here for the entertainment.

  “Is this place for real?” Katenekwa stared after a waitress who walked past them from the bar. She carried a tray, filled with beverages, strapped to her like a cigar girl from an old movie.

  Wezi led her to a low table with an outdoor modular sofa a little distance from the stage. “Fun, right?”

  “That remains to be seen,” she shouted over the din. “K used to come here?”

  "We met here. I was the bartender. He spotted my guitar behind the bar and asked me if I could play or if it was an accessory. He asked me to go on stage with him.”