Why am I aware of everything at once but nothing at all.
There’s a lovely woman seated across from me, who I’m supposed to be keeping company. I should be engrossed with the words coming out of her mouth, yet I find myself aware of everything else.
But I do notice her eyes though, how they sparkle as she speaks about something she loves, and how she’s mentally drifting to that place, enraptured in the present. I follow the sharp edges of her red lips, and then the sharp cusps of her cheeks. Even after all this time, I’m still intrigued by her nose, a small, fitted thing that complements her already stunning face.
I consider the glow of her skin, and how the golden light above us adds sheen to her visage. I’m thinking to myself that she’s a stunner. Oh yes, she is, and I bagged her interest with little but a boyish smile–well I’m sure of that and my irresistible charm, besides many other bonus attributes I do not care to mention.
But that dress though, how it embraces her body, how it leaves nothing to desire in carving out her slender form, a stainless silver dress to complement the immaculate glossiness of this restaurant.
My hyper-focus shifts slightly to the environment around us. I hear the velvety whispering between couples, and I catch a giggle somewhere. The couple next to us is holding hands, the man is peering into her soul, suggesting much more than a simple peck later.
I also notice other couples passing suggestive smiles and touching fingers somewhere between impulsion and invitation. Whereas my hands are carefully tucked away under the table: one palm resting on my knee, and the other busy with my phone.
She can’t see it but I’m paying attention to the graph of one of my shitcoins mooning. My check from work came in early the other day, with a generous bonus and a staged lauding from my boss in the office common area. And even as I stood there smiling, being nothing but an angel, I knew that shit would not be enough to cover my mother’s mortgage before the deadline.
A notification popped at the top of my phone screen. It was a message from my mom, “Kelly is here again!”
A cold dread turned over inside me: I sat upright and forced a tight smile. My companion smiled back and ran a tender finger under her chin as she continued talking.
Kelly is my older brother by right, but the outcast in reality. Out of my five siblings, he’s the only one that got stuck after high school, trapped between menial jobs and debts from almost everyone who knows him — including me. And when he can’t stand on his own, he often leans heavily on my mother, a widow advanced in age who should have nothing to deal with but the bliss of her grandchildren.
I was beginning to grind my teeth and shift uncomfortably at the thought of an altercation with Kelly; he was two times my size and taller, but since I was most successful, no one listened to him, but everybody listened to me–everybody except Kelly. God knows his life would mean something if he just listened to me.
“Ben? Are you okay?” Her question snapped her back into focus. God, she’s beautiful.
“Ben, are you even here?” She said and tired lines etched her face.
“Yes!” I took her hands in mine firmly, “just a stray thought.” I tossed her one of my signature boyish smiles. It did little to ease her expression, instead she looked at the phone I had just dropped on the table, so I tried to smooth things over by rubbing the back of her hand with my thumbs.
My phone picked this exactly precarious moment to buzz. I glimpsed my mother’s portrait scowl and knew I had to take that call.
“Is everything okay? You seem to be somewhere else.” She asked again, and that bothered me, but I had no time to waylay her thoughts.
“Let me just get this quick call okay?” I offered a contrite smile, but her expression was as placid as the drab yellow lighting from the streets outside.
“We said no phones last time.” She commented.
“This is the last time.” I grimaced as I got up and hurried to the bathroom.
I pushed through a door and was relieved to find the room empty; which was highly expected of a fine dining establishment.
“Mom?” I answered the call.
“Kelly’s taken my car out again! I don’t know what to do with this child!”
Strangle him? I wanted to scoff dryly but held back. “Mom, I keep telling you, you’re too soft on him. He should be out on his own by now. He should be starting a business or taking another try at college. Or for God sakes, he should at least be able to keep a job and earn his keep!”
“You know he never had it smooth like you. He takes longer to get things and even longer to work his way around doing them–” it was her same rehearsed plea on all the reasons why the deadbeat son should be excused, and I hated it. No one ever made excuses for me, the middle child that had to step up and lead the way when the bills were clogging up our throats.
No one made excuses for me when I worked three jobs and took loans for college, or when I had to grovel my way up from paper-pushing and coffee fetching to a standard check, whilst giving away my salary crumbs to repay school loans.
Every time it comes to Kelly, all I hear are excuses, either from his mum or from the horse’s mouth.
“I have to get to Martha’s early in the morning, you know Larry’s birthday is tomorrow, right?” My mom said and my breath hitched; I had forgotten! My nephew’s birthday was the next day, and I was supposed to get him something, my sister Martha would be so cross.
“Shit, Mom.” I rubbed my temple. “I’ll get him something.”
“I know you will. But will you be present? Will you actually play with him? Pick him up a little and let him know that his uncle cares?”
But what’s his dad for? I wanted to groan. I had some unavoidable appointments that fell within the party’s time, so I figured I would just have to rub the back of Martha’s palms while offering my sincere apology.
“Mom, I’ll stop by to address the Kelly issue later. I’ll also pick you up tomorrow if Kelly doesn’t return your car.” Leah flashed in my mind, “I’m on a date with Leah right now.”
“That’s wonderful! Say hi for me!” My mother chirped. I eyed the stalls behind my shoulders, relieved they were all empty. “When are you going to hurry up and marry her already? Give me grandbabies!”
“We’re taking our time, Mom.” I sighed and scratched my chin.
“Whatever does that mean? She’s wonderful for you. She was lovely at thanksgiving, even helped out with the food! What are you doing?”
“Oh relax, Mom.” I started walking towards the exit. “I’ll need to get back to my date now. Maybe call me later.” The phone buzzed against my cheek, and I looked at the screen. It was a message from Leah, and the first two lines were visible.
“I don’t know what it is, but it feels like you’re never here. I can’t tonight.”
Holy cow. I punched that notification fast but that was all there was to the message. I stopped there at the restroom door, and noticed she was no longer seated at our table — she and her bag had disappeared!
“Ben? Ben? Do you hear me?” My mum was loud enough to be heard, but I hurried for the restaurant’s front doors and stepped out into the chilly night just as I heard a taxi door slam shut.
“Hey!” I yelled, but the taxi took off before I could take another step. I watched her go, its red taillights warning me that that was the last time.
“Ben?” My mum was still on the call.
“Yes, Mom.” I grimaced.
“You seemed a little busy just then. I was asking about Leah; do you love her?” My Mom asked, but somewhere between irritation and frustration, I wasn’t too sure I had an answer for that.
“Sir, is everything alright? You left the bill.” I turned to see a young waiter waiting for me…
***
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I’m Rachael Asikpo, and this is my first entry for a literary interest I’ve had for a bit of time. It’s not going to be a novel, but it’s going to be an episodic journal that recreates and addresses some real-life scenarios, but from a well-thought out character’s perspective.
From Ben’s perspective, I will be combining the opinions of various people I have worked with and stories I have heard. I hope you enjoy this as much as I will!
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