CHAPTER ONE
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
“What in the world are you wishing for, for so long, Adel?” Mama Fidel shouted. That brought her back into orbit. She looked around at the people waiting for her to blow the candles and wondered again how she had pulled such a crowd for her birthday. Taking in a deep breath, she blew all the twenty-two candles off.
As the clapping and well- wishing subsided, she drifted away from the massive dinner table and wandered back towards the dance hall.
A Nigerian by birth, she had arrived in Canada, to study in St. Mary’s University, some seven years before and chose the Home Stay option (which is to stay with a family instead of in the halls). She was given the Fidel family. When she made it through the first session without giving in to the antics of her new siblings, or moving out (after all they put her through.), she was accepted into the family. It was at Thanksgiving that she realized she had not been adopted into a family of six as she thought, but a family of, at rough count, fifty. She enjoyed having so many cousins though, as she had one brother for a sibling while growing up in Nigeria. Life was never dull.
How they had given out the invitations without her finding out, or even planned the whole surprise party she didn’t know. She had woken up that morning to find that all her twenty-six Fidel cousins, her four Fidel siblings, her three Fidel nephews and her only Adetunji brother, Ope, were around for her birthday. She looked around her again and shook her head slightly at the turnout. She herself didn’t even know she knew so many people.
Then SHE saw him.
He was tall, well built and wide at the shoulders. The turtleneck sweater he wore made him look more self-assured and confident than he would have been, she figured, wearing a casual shirt and trousers like every other male in the party. His hair was left a bit long, but it shaped his face, making him look primitive. Now, why that word had come to her mind she had no idea. She was sure that within minutes, Sheila, a boy-crazy friend of hers would zoom in on the mystery guy, and couldn’t help but smile when she noticed Sheila on the other side of the room, making her way to him. But then he raised his eyes to hers as her glance fell back on him and her smile froze on her face. There was something familiar about those eyes, yet she couldn’t place the face. For about twenty-seconds, she was transfixed to the spot. It was as if an electric force shot across the room from him and held her captive, she couldn’t move a muscle.
“Who are you staring at with such longing in your eyes, coz?” Travis asked as he stopped at her side. That broke it. She turned to Travis as she answered,
“No one in particular,” and then added, “How are you?”
But Travis, never one to lose a scent, continued roaming the crowd.
“So you have met him already?” he asked, and she didn’t need to look up to see whom he meant.
“Who?” she asked innocently.
“Ryan of course,” Travis replied. “What do you think of him?”
“I asked you a question, Travis,” she persisted instead.
Now Travis was a devious matchmaker, and he had actually had several triumphs though he admitted to finding her case, his current major project, and his most difficult so far. She was very careful about what she said about any male that she knew when she spoke with Travis. He always wound up everything to suit his plans.
“He’s actually someone I would like you to meet, Coz,” he said.
“Aren’t they all,” she muttered to herself.
“He came with me as a matter of fact,” he continued, his slight smile the only indication that he had heard her little comment.
“In case you didn’t hear me, Travis, I asked how you were,” she kept on.
“I could introduce you right this minute,” Travis continued, his smile widening as he saw his friend approaching. She followed Travis’ gaze and tried not to show her irritation. How she was going to get out of this one she didn’t know. Then her cell phone began to vibrate.
She smiled as she looked up at Travis and excused herself. “Sorry Travis, not this time,” she said sweetly. “I have a phone call.” And walked towards the quietest corner she could find before picking the call – under one side of the arch leading up to the next floor.
“Hello” she said tentatively into the phone.
“Happy Birthday my baby, how are you?” It was her mother from Nigeria. Both families spent her first three years in St. Mary’s University corresponding across the globe, then the next three visiting each other as often as they could manage. Now she had two sets of parents, Papafi and Mamafi, and Papa and Mum.
“I’m fine Mum,” she replied. “How’s Papa?”
“He’s snoring beside me right now. So, how’s the party?” she asked.
“Going quite well, at the moment,” she replied. “So you were part of the game, Mum.”
“Of course I was,” she agreed heartily. “How else did you think Ope was allowed to come over? I was the one that sent his luggage from here so he could cross over to Canada smoothly.”
“Thank you for everything, Mum,” she muttered.
“You deserve the best, my dear, that’s why I am so furious with you right now.”
“Why?” she couldn’t help asking.
“You should be thankful for the ten thousand miles between us right now,” she continued.
“Why?” she asked again.
“Because yesterday was Femi’s wedding,” she replied.
“Who?” she asked, wondering where the connection was between Femi and her.
“Don’t you remember Femi Adelana? My friend Tosin Adelana’s last son?”
“Yes I do, Mum.” She replied. So that was it. Another wedding. “He got married?” she asked, pretending ignorance of the fact.
“Of course he did,” exclaimed her mother. “He could not wait forever, you know.”
She decided that it wasn’t wise to point out at that moment to her mother that Femi and she had been no more than friends back then and still communicated often.
“Mum, I hope you didn’t accuse him of letting me down,” she already had images of her standing up in the church to give a reason why the couple should not be joined in holy matrimony. Mum could do that sort of thing if she thought it necessary.
“I did no such thing,” she replied quickly. “What I don’t understand is how long you want to continue to lead that independent lady life, or when it would hit you that it was time you settled down.”
She sighed in resignation. It was time for the lecture that was gradually becoming hand – in – hand with her birthdays since she turned twenty.
“I don’t want you to be at the ripe old age of thirty when you give birth to your first child, Banke,” she kept on, switching to her Nigerian name. “Why you won’t come to Nigeria for a visit is beyond me. Your Fidel parents have been here twice already but you have not returned since you left seven years ago. Why?”
“I…” she began looking for a reasonable excuse as usual.
“Don’t tell me that visa story again, Banke,” she interrupted her, calling her by her native name. “I know you are a citizen now and have been for the last two years at least. Mamafi told me.”
“You are right Mum, its just that I cannot seem to find the time to plan my visit,” she knew it was a feeble excuse.
“Yet you can plan your Fidel parents’ own and even Fiona’s without a hitch,” she replied. “You even planned your eldest Fidel brother’s family vacation, or am I wrong?”
“No,” she replied in a small voice. Knowing her Fidel family, she was sure they would have given her the information she sought without even knowing it. She sighed again.
“Is there something you are hiding from us, Banke?” she suddenly asked. “Did you get pregnant in school? Or do you have a child you don’t want us to know about?”
She couldn’t have even thought of that. “No, of course not, Mum.”
“Then why do you insist on not returning to Nigeria if you have nothing to hide?”
Her mother let her think about that question for a few seconds, before asking another.
“How long have you been working for that firm?”
“Three years,” she replied quickly, wondering again where her mind was going.
“Have you ever taken a leave of absence?” she asked.
Now she knew where she was heading.
“No,” she replied. “It seems pointless as it is about a week at my level.”
“But a week times three is three weeks my dear,” she stated.
“I don’t think I can be allowed to go for that long,” she protested.
“Never think yourself indispensable even if you own the company, Banke,” she advised.
“Ok Mum. But I cannot pull myself away just now.” She had told her exactly what she wanted to pass across.
“But taking time off is essential for your well-being,” she declared. “Its because you don’t give yourself time that you don’t have a husband by now. I would have thought that with all your Fidel cousins in that country and abroad, you would have found one by now. I see it is because there is no time. That has to change immediately.”
“I will see what I can do Mother,” she replied in a tight tone. It seemed everyone wanted her hitched as soon as possible.
“That means you won’t do anything,” she said.
“Mum” she gasped, but didn’t deny it.
“And the ‘Mother’ means I have annoyed you,” she continued. “It is for your own good. If I don’t hear anything promising in the next three months, I’ll come personally to help you plan your vacation.”
“That wont be necessary,” she quickly assured her, as she searched the crowd for her brother Ope. She needed an escape route before she got her to commit to anything. She located Ope then a thought occurred to her: Ope was still with Fiona and had been since the big ‘Surprise’ she had gotten in the morning. Both were shy creatures so it was either they were taking refuge in each other, or something was going on. She filed that away for rumination later.
“So, you actually have not met any interesting man this year, Banke,” continued her mother. “Don’t give me a yes, I know that isn’t entirely true.”
“No comment, Mum,” was all she would say in reply as she cut across the crowd towards Ope.
“Even if you say anything it still does not wipe out the fact that you have no boyfriend. Why don’t you come over to Lagos and meet some very nice young men? God knows the choices are endless, from our old gardener’s son, who’s now a Lawyer, to Chief Teco Benson’s grandson, the one you went to school with, now what’s his name again?”
“Richard, Mum,” she quickly added. “Ope would like to speak to you.” Then thrust the phone into her brother’s right hand as she told him the same thing, “Mum wants to speak to you.” She was about to compliment Fiona on her lovely red dress when she heard her name behind her at the same time that Mamafi caught her eye and beckoned on her with a frantic wave of her hand.
“Adel! I had almost given up hope of locating you before this show was over. I didn’t know you were this famous.”
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