Chauffeur Duties
___________
Did I dream about Special visiting and staying in our house? Unconsciously pushing a hand that’s rubbing mine, I stir awake. I think I dreamt about Special visiting us.
“Madam… wake up now.”
Huh? G-Ben? Blinking my eyes open, in the dim light, I turn to my side to see G-Ben, impeccably dressed for work, standing by my bed, wearing a mischievous look. “Morning…”
“Morning sleepy head.”
In a gruff morning voice, I ask, “Sup?”
G-Ben leans in, till he’s seated at an angle on my bed. “I need you to help keep Special company today. That’s not hard now?”
Keep him company? I pull up my blanket as sleep fades from my memory. Truly, Special is around. Now G-Ben wants me to keep him company? Wonders.
“He needs to run a couple of errands today.” G-Ben sighs, rubbing a hand on his face. “I should have told you yesterday, but I guess I got carried away with the arrangements.” He rubs a hand on his thigh. “So what’s up. Can you call work off and help baby-sit him?”
“I should just cancel like that?”
“Make something up. Tell them you’re sick or something. You’ve been going to work regularly. See this as your time off.” He smirks, adding, “Time off with Special.”
Tsk. Eyes fixed on his expression, I reach for my phone and sit up. “I’m doing you a favor.”
He scrunches his nose, then grins.
I glance at my phone to see its 5:38 a.m. Ample time to let them know I won’t make it to work today. “Okay.”
“Great.” He tells me Special’s activity for the day and where I come in.
Swallowing, I bob my head, my brain still very much fogged with sleep. Using my tongue, I scratch the back of throat and I notice G-Ben’s tolerance of the sound. He has no choice. Waking me from my beauty sleep has consequences.
I interject sometimes, clarifying expectations and needs. Less than ten minutes later, G-Ben is off to work, and my head is on my pillow again.
I still can’t believe Special is under my father’s roof.
*****
Throughout the day spent with Special, I’ve been on edge, catching sidelong glances, feeling a dry mouth, erupting into uncontrollable giggles, speeding through conversations, and behaving rather foolishly at times.
Navigating through Lagos traffic, I drive him around to complete his pre-planned activities, our conversation jumping from one hot topic to another.
Approaching Ikeja City Mall on our way home, I seize the opportunity to suggest catching the latest Marvel movie together whenever his schedule allows. He agrees in principle, mentioning his current time constraints but promising to confirm later. Encouraged by this prospect of a movie date, though it’s not explicitly stated as such, I muster the courage to broach a topic that’s been weighing on my mind. Surprisingly, he hasn’t brought it up today, and I suspect it’s out of consideration rather than indifference.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to him. “There’s something I wanted to share,” I begin, hesitating momentarily. Should I bring this up now? It might not be relevant, but I’ve already started. “Remember when you asked about my work last night, and I brushed it aside?”
“Yeah… you did.” He smirks. “Ready to confess how you fund this lavish lifestyle?”
“Lavish?” I scoff, pressing down the accelerator.
“You’re living the dream, Fifi. Is it human hair and wigs you’re selling?” His attempt at humor vanishes abruptly when he notices my serious expression. “What is it?”
I’m not embarrassed about my current job, but it’s not something I envisioned doing. I bring the car to a halt in the compound and let it all spill. “I recently got a part-time job as a manager at a business center.”
Special’s eyes widen, a glimmer of admiration shining through.
“It’s not exactly the job or company of my dreams—”
“Manager? That’s amazing! Congratulations! I’m proud of you. G-Ben mentioned your job struggles, but conveniently left out the ending.”
“Oh…” So, he talked to G-Ben about me but never checked in on me. Interesting. And did he only focus on the manager aspect of the job? I can see why G-Ben left that part out in their discussions. “It’s not the end though. I’m still exploring job opportunities in the tech industry. It’s been challenging, but I’m hopeful something will come up soon.”
“That’s the spirit. You’ll do great. I’m sure of it. You know, it takes courage and determination to make progress.” Special continues, his expression sincere, “Even if this job you’re in is not in your ideal setting, I’m glad you’re taking steps toward your goals. Look at me now, I don’t need to tell you my story. You’ll be fine.”
A surge of warmth fills my heart. This guy! His unwavering support is deep. That he knows not to continue with the human hair joke shows how emotionally matured he is. It’s moments like this I believe he fully understands the challenges and the drive that pushes me forward. “Thank you. I—”
My phone rings, interrupting the flow of my thought process. Evans’s name flashes on the screen.
I wasn’t doing anything bad! Nothing happened!
Why is guilt shrouding me? This isn’t good… What is wrong with me? Should I answer it or keep this conversation going?
Evans has been nothing but supportive. And understanding. Yet, here I am, on the cusp of an emotional reunion with Special, feeling torn and guilty.
“Go ahead, take the call,” Special says, gesturing towards my phone. “We’ll continue our catch-up inside.” The click of his door draws my attention.
Does he sense my hesitation about answering in his presence? Does he know who Evans is? “I can call back. It’s—”
Sporting a wide grin, he swings his door open. “Take your call Fifi,” he encourages, retrieving the bags from the backseat. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m in your house.”
Feeling conflicted, I express my gratitude and assure him I’ll be quick, waiting until he closes the door before answering. Evans’s cheerful voice floods the line, immediately magnifying the weight of my guilt.
“Hey, how’s your day been, baby girl?” Evans greets, his tone tugging at my heartstrings. “I’ve been missing you.”
Guilt clenches my chest, a reminder of the emotional complexity I’m getting entangled in. I’m not dumb. Neither is he stupid. Evans deserves my honesty, but I fear… I fear the repercussions of revealing the current situation. I don’t want the current situation to sound serious than it is.
“Evans,” I murmur softly, praying my voice doesn’t betray the nervous thoughts swirling within. “I’ve been thinking about you too.” Thinking about how I never told you Special was coming to visit or will spend a considerable amount of days in my house.
“What has my baby been up to all day that she didn’t respond to my messages?”
“I was out with—” uh oh. Best to come out with it.
“I didn’t get that.”
Clearing my throat, I try again. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Is everything alright? Should I switch to video call?” Instantly, my phone vibrates with a video call. Why is he trying to make this harder than it should be?
“Hey…” he coos. “Now I can see your pretty face. What’s up?”
He’s in a hotel somewhere in Europe. All expenses paid by an international organization funding his study of their systems so he can return here and replicate it.
“Nothing much. Guess who’s here visiting?”
“Who?”
I grin playfully. “The one and only Special.” I rush on. “He surprised us with a visit.” I let that sink in before continuing. He displays no visible sign of conflict. “He’s visiting my family for a few days.”
“Same Special?” His tone sharpens, cutting through the air like a blade.
“I can explain,” I begin, but he doesn’t wait.
“What’s he doing there?” His voice is colder now, cutting through the distance like a chill wind.
“He’s just visiting,” I stutter, unease creeping into my tone. “Nothing more.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” The question hangs between us, loaded with accusation.
“I—I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” I fumble for words, trying to soften the revelation.
“You should have told me.” His tone hardens, frustration and hurt clear in his voice. “I would’ve appreciated the honesty.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I attempt to downplay the situation, but his silence speaks volumes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure he was going to make it. I—”
“Fifi,” he breathes, shaking his head in what I can only assume to be disappointment. “I thought we shared everything.”
The words, his expression; they sting, hitting me harder than I expected. “We do, Evans. But...”
“But you chose not to tell me about this.” His voice tightens.
“I didn’t want it to seem like it was something serious. It’s just a visit.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s staying for more than a day. Really, you should have told me,” he responds, his tone strained with justifiable anger.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he says curtly before ending the call, leaving me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Regret lingers like an unwelcome companion around me. Gosh, I could have done better. I should have been forthright from the start. What would it have taken me to send him a message last night when Special arrived? To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t truly thinking about him. I’m such a horrible girlfriend. I find it hard to breathe as I replay our conversation in my mind.
My phone buzzes, startling me. Evans’s name flashes on the screen again. I hesitate before answering, unsure of what to expect after our tense exchange.
The screen flickers to life, revealing Evans’s face, illuminated by the soft glow of his hotel room. Concern furrows his brow before softening as he tries to gauge my emotions through the screen.
“Fifi.” His voice is softer now, contrition threading through his words. “I’m sorry for hanging up on you. That was unfair. I overreacted.”
“It’s okay, Evans.” Relief floods me at his apology.
“I know you didn’t mean to hide anything. I trust you,” he continues, his voice warmer, trying to reassure. “Send my regards to him.”
“I will.”
“Were you seeing him off? Or picking him up?”
“Hmm, no.” I don’t know why, but my knee twitches inexplicably. I tell him about Special’s surprise visit, my role as his chauffeur today, and some of the details of Special’s schedule I’m aware of. And because I want to be honest, I confide my conflicting emotions. “Yeah, we’ve been reconnecting, and… it’s stirred up a lot—like some conflicting emotions—within me.”
Silence echoes from his end, and my heart pounds, waiting for a response. Is the screen frozen? Has network gone bad?
“I appreciate your honesty, Fifi,” Evans finally speaks, his tone composed. “It’s important to navigate these emotions, understand where your heart truly lies and to figure things out with a clear head.”
“Evans?”
“What?”
“Is that all?” I stutter, searching for the right words. “I mean, shouldn’t you be more concerned or… upset?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything. Like, I don’t want you hanging around him.”
“Fifi, I trust you.”
How can he get angry earlier, yet be calm now when I’m sharing my emotional turmoil? “Evans, did you understand what I was trying to —”
“You mentioned you had a crush on him before. It’s only natural to feel odd when he’s around. I get it. Don’t worry, Fifi. I trust you.”
What if I don’t trust myself? I almost ask but shut my mouth, pouting. I need to confront the complexities of my feelings head-on, not just for the sake of my relationship with Evans, but for my clarity and happiness.
“There’s something I want to say.” I glance at the house Special entered minutes ago, waiting for me. “It’s been on my mind.”
His expression shifts, listening to someone off camera, then returns to me, concern etched on his face. “What is it?”
Swallowing, I find courage to continue. This feels stupid, but I think I should put it out there. There’s no right time to do it. It’s now or never. “Well, you know how things have been really great between us,” I stumble over my words, my voice shaking with nerves. “I just want you to know that...I love you, Evans. I really do.”
Surprised, his smile lights up his face. “Fifi…”
“Hmm?” I return his smile with a wobbly one.
“I love you too. I’ve loved you from the moment we met. You mean the world to me.”
Relief washes over me. “Oh, Evans... I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared,” I say.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” He chuckles softly. “Thank you. And baby, you never have to be scared to tell me how you feel. I’m here for you,” he taps a hand to his chest, “always.”
Overwhelmed, I’m left speechless, my heart brimming with emotions.
“Before I forget, how’s the job hunting going?”
“Same old, same old,” I reply, trying to brush it off.
“Is that why you’ve not been updating me?”
I roll my eyes, questioning my impulsive confession of love just moments ago. He always jokes about being the provider while I should enjoy the ride. Sometimes, I wonder if he remembers our conversations back in school. I crave independence, just like Mama Gee—I want to carve my path and make money.
“Baby girl, I’ve got to go. We talk later, yeah?”
I nod. “Sure.”
“Have fun, but don’t have too much fun without me,” he teases with a wink.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m saving all the fun for you.”
As I hang up, determination sets in. I can’t let guilt cloud my judgment. I want to be with Evans. He may not be rolling in cash from his ventures now, but he has potential.
With Special around, I can address my unresolved feelings and wanting, and in turn strike a balance between my past and present.
More composed, I enter the house. Inside, Special’s playful voice catches me off guard. “Well, well, well. That must have been one important call to keep you in the car for so long.”
Uh oh… why are my cheeks burning?