Preordained #ProjectNigeria

14- Babysitting 101

Nwanyieze's POV~

I wake up the next day to see a box containing two dozens of red roses, waiting for me in the living room.

Because I came home late (or very early in the morning), I overslept. Mama Uju is seated watching Nick Jr with Adanna, who is still dressed in her small grey overalls, her brown hair curling around her face and making her look like a huge sunflower, except with dark petals.

"A delivery man brought them," Mama Uju responds when I ask her about the roses.

I read the small, white card attached to the bouquet and let out a hiss.

I took things too far. I'm truly sorry. Saheed.

The thought of his forceful kiss annoys me the more.

What to do with these flowers?

Yes, I think, smiling wickedly. I'll give the damned flowers to Iya Tunde's goat, aka the compound goat.

"Where are you going with those?" Mama Uju demands when I move towards the front door with my unwanted gift.

"I don't want them."

"And so what will you do with them?"

"Give them to Iya Tunde's goat."

She widens her eyes in shock. "Do you know how much roses cost?"

I know they're quite expensive, but I don't care. Expensive gifts won't make it up for the violation of my mouth.

But haven't you been letting yourself be violated all these years? my conscience mocks me.

"Don't you dare do such a thing, do you hear me?" Mama Uju commands. "Remove those plastic flowers from that vase and put the roses. Pour water into the vase, too." She points to the large white vase standing on the small dining table.

Reluctantly, I obey her. The flowers actually smell nice, that I can't deny.

"I made some French toast and baked beans sauce," she says to me while holding Adanna up in the air and kissing her face. The little girl laughs gleefully and puckers up her lips for her mother.

While eating in my room, I reflect on how fortunate Mama Uju is to have Adanna. At first, when she fell pregnant for that bloody expatriate, she cried a great deal because she feared she would lose a second child, and catering for her even if she survived would be a problem because she had me to care for, too. It was Adanna's birth that prompted me to go into prostitution because I didn't want to be a burden.

We've both grown to love and appreciate this bundle of joy, and we've both sworn to protect her from the harsh realities of life for as long as we can. She isn't going to end up like her mother and I, forced into a corner by circumstances beyond our control.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the ringing of my phone near the kitchen window. It's an unknown number, one I don't have on my contact list.

"Hello?"

"Queen."

Oh, sweet heavens, I think, mentally kicking myself for wishing it could have been Maduka.

Wait, what? Why was I expecting his call?

"Are you there?" Saheed's deep voice fills my ear.

"Yes. Good morning," I say frostily.

"Did you get the flowers?"

I'm sorely tempted to tell him that the compound goat says thanks for the breakfast, that it was delicious and could he please send some more soonest? But instead, I reply, "Yes, but that was very unnecessary."