Chapter 18
MICHAEL WATCHED OSEI STUMBLE out of the boardroom as if a minute longer would have killed him. They had just completed a gruelling three-hour meeting of the directors. His friend had never had a long attention span. Even as a graduate student, Osei had always taken longer breaks from their three-hour lectures.
He, on the other hand, had always been good at focusing on the end result. In school, it had been to graduate among the top in his class; in business, he enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment following every successful meeting, the exhilaration of being part of a decision-making spectrum that could change lives, businesses, even nations.
Catching up to Osei, he gave his friend a friendly punch on the back. “I feel your pain, bro.”
“Don’t start.” Osei glared at him. “I’m not happy with you right now.”
“Come on. The Cape Coast business needed to be dealt with. We always talk about it. We’ve already sunk money into it, and we needed to settle the issue.”
“That extended the meeting another hour,” Osei quipped. “Did you have to bring it up today?”
“Well, yeah, this being the decisions meeting and all.”
Today’s agenda had called for firm decisions to be made on many outstanding matters and responsibilities allocated to each director. Strangely, the issue of the new branch office in Cape Coast hadn’t been part of the agenda. For the past few months, it had been discussed at practically every meeting, though never thoroughly debated.
Since this was a decisions meeting, Michael had decided to bring it up. He’d had no specific direction towards which he had wanted to see the issue geared, but he had felt that some firm decisions needed to be made.
The Managing Director’s face had lit up when Michael brought it up. Ideas had been tossed here and there. What to do with the building they had already bought; how many staff to hire for that office; a tentative mission and objective for the next year; who to head the office. They had debated on whether to hire someone new or assign one of the four directors to it. At that, no one had seemed eager to relocate to Cape Coast.
It had hit him then who the perfect candidate was.
“Lena,” he’d proposed.
A moment of silence had ensued.
“Lena Brown-Ankrah?” the Managing Director had asked.
“Yes.” He’d sat up. “With her qualifications, she can easily manage the branch office.”
“She’s the best administrative assistant we have,” one of the directors had argued. “Do we really want to release her?”
“Senior admin assistant,” Michael had corrected. “She’s over-qualified for what she does.”
At this point, Osei had asked, “If we send her to Cape Coast, would that mean a promotion?”
The Managing Director had considered this awhile. “Hiring a new director will require a full orientation, briefings, and all that. It would be a more efficient use of resources to promote Lena than to hire a new person.”
“Plus, she knows pretty much everything going on now.” The more Michael had argued in Lena’s favour, the more it had made sense. “Besides, she’s Fante, and isn’t our company culture to approach the home market with a home person?”
“As far as is feasible.”
“All well and good, but part of being feasible is whether she’s willing to relocate,” one of the other directors had said.
“Correct. If she isn’t willing and we force her, won’t she—”
Michael had cut in, suspecting what his colleague was getting at. “Look, from the work she’s been doing around here, I believe she has shown without a doubt that she’s a professional. If she accepts the offer, she’ll do a good job. If she doesn’t accept, we won’t force her.”
“She’s being promoted,” Osei had said. “Of course, she’ll go. Cape Coast is less than two hundred kilometres from Accra. It’s not like we’re sending her to the boonies.”
“That’s right.”
“What happens to all the wonderful work she is doing here?” their sceptical colleague had continued.
Michael had already had a reply. “While we’re making the plans to get the Cape Coast office fully habitable, she can show Amorkor and Kafui the full range of duties. I strongly think it makes more financial and management sense to promote Lena than hire a new director or send one of us. We all have projects we’re working on, and moving is just going to disrupt some of these projects.”
“Good argument,” the Managing Director had said.
Michael followed Osei into his office. A swivel chair and a desk made of wood stained to achieve an ebony look stood ahead of them. On one side of the desk stood a cupboard, also faux ebony, like all the other furniture in the office. On the other side stood a table-top fridge on which Osei kept his coffee accessories.
A decorative rug, which he’d brought with him from America, was now in the middle of the square room where he’d placed two comfortable armchairs. A large window overlooked the street, a good thing for his short attention span, since he could always observe happenings outside when his mind was getting too tired.
He slumped into one of the chairs and undid his tie.
“Six-thirty,” he announced as Osei packed his briefcase.
Osei looked up. “Your fault. I could have been at that new pub in Osu right now watching pre-game commentary.”
Michael latched on to that. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, man.”
He had no desire to go home early. It had been a long week, the kind leading to mental exhaustion. He was in no state of mind to see Esi.
Osei considered it for a few seconds. “I’m all for an outing. Maybe I can salvage the evening, after all.”
Michael laughed. As he watched Osei shove some files into his desk drawer, his mind diverted straight to Esi. It happened too often lately. He’d find himself withdrawn, engaged in a fierce battle with his disquieting emotions—in a world of his own dominated by thoughts of Esi, glad that those erotic thoughts were private.
He’d begun to grow used to her presence. He even liked her. She kept the house—his life—in order. Her body charmed him, filled him with a fierce passion that had gradually eroded his resistance, until it had him holding on by a thread. He’d thought he was the one with the power, but on the day of Lena’s visit, he’d seen how wrong he’d been, how vulnerable he was around Esi.
He didn’t understand why his heart had shuddered when he’d held her, let alone why he’d kissed her when he’d promised to avoid all intimacy. Many times, when he played back the incident, he had to admit he hadn’t wanted to let go. The most peculiar thing about it all was her inexplicable power to momentarily erase thoughts of Forest Girl from his mind, which is what frightened him the most.
He enjoyed watching her, dwelling on the enticing details of her body, of which there were many. His new favourite pastime was to imagine her undressing whenever she entered the bathroom while fighting the urge to go in after her.
“How is she?”
He snapped back to reality. “Huh? Who?”
“Daydreaming again? I said, how’s your angel?”
“What angel?”
Osei grinned. “Mike, tell me you weren’t thinking about Esi, and I’ll tell you plain and white that you’re lying.”
He winced. Osei had a way of cunningly attacking him about his feelings for Esi. “I thought you were supposed to be giving me grief for extending the meeting.”
“Don’t change the subject, Mike. She’s your wife.”
“Not by choice.”
“Then divorce her properly and stop treating her the way you’re doing. You’re being outrageous,” Osei said. “I’m sure God had a purpose for this. He won’t just force something down your throat without a good reason. Think about it. It’ll help you.”
Michael shrugged. If God had a good reason, he was keeping a tight lid on it.
“Let’s get the show on the road, bro,” he said. “I hate to drink alone.”
****
They had announced a rain storm on the radio in the afternoon, and Esi had prayed Michael would arrive home before it started. He hadn’t. It was ten o’clock at night, and she stood at their bedroom window staring outside at the rain’s unrelenting barrage.
I hope he’s okay.
Thirty minutes later, she forced herself to go to bed, but spent a restless night worrying about him.
She woke up to an empty bed and decided to keep busy with house chores, telling herself that he’d show up at some point. When he arrived, he would be hungry. She needed to make sure food was ready.
When the doorbell rang, she went to answer it, hoping it was him even though she knew he would normally have used his key. Worry coiled around her insides.
She answered the door and found Michael’s friend, Osei.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted.
“Please, come in.”
Inside, she offered him water, which he turned down, saying he wasn’t staying long.
“Is Mike at home?”
“No.” Feeling a sudden sense of shame, she added, “He—he’s gone to do some work in the office.”
He worked all the time, so the lie seemed reasonable enough.
“Work?” Osei frowned. “It’s Saturday.”
Unable to meet his eyes, she sat down and remained quiet.
“You don’t have to cover for him, Esi.”
“I haven’t seen him since lunch yesterday.” Her voice trembled, but she willed herself not to cry in front of Osei.
“I know.”
She stared at him for several seconds. “How?”
“We went out last night to watch football. We hadn’t heard about the storm warning, and when we found out, it had already started raining, and my place was closer. We called, but it appears the lines were down.” He gave her an apologetic look. “But he left early this morning. He should have been home by now.”
Esi wished she could detect whether he was telling the truth, like he’d done with her. She had no idea where Michael was, and she silently prayed for his safety. A disturbing thought occurred. What if he’d slept at Lena’s house and asked Osei to cover for him? No. Her mind rejected it.
“So maybe he went to the office,” she suggested hopefully.
“You’re right.” Osei gave her a reassuring smile, handing her a big brown envelope in his hand. “Please give this to him when he returns.”
She took the envelope and saw him to the door. She sensed hesitation in his stance before he turned again.
“Mike is a good guy,” he said. “He has a few things to work out, though, so please don’t give up on him.”
A twinge of sadness stabbed her heart. So Osei knew what she was going through. They had only met twice, and yet, she felt like he was her only supporter in Accra. She could feel the tears coming and blinked rapidly.
“Thank you,” she said.
As she watched him walk out of the gate, she began to miss Ebinom where everyone liked her.
****
Michael entered his house, and the sweet aroma of food hit him. His stomach rumbled expectantly. He never knew why after eating her food once, he always came back for more. Maybe there was some truth to that saying about the road to a man’s heart. Her cooking was probably why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
The strength she demonstrated daily had him stomped. How did she manage to chuck away all the treatment he was dishing out as though nothing was wrong? How could she continue to be a good wife when she could save herself? What would it take to set himself free?
His heart thumped so loudly, he thought it would burst. He’d never spent a night out, and he wondered what she was thinking. He felt like a child anticipating punishment from his parents. He prayed he wouldn’t have to tell her where he’d been this morning, for it would hurt her.
Last night, he’d felt vulnerable, unable to control his yearning for her. If he’d seen her anytime yesterday, he would have grabbed her and made passionate love to her, which he dared not. He needed to gain her trust again. The storm had given him the perfect excuse to stay away, to spend the night at Osei’s place without his friend giving him grief about going home to his wife.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
Esi’s voice startled him.
“Nowhere you should worry your pretty head about.” He felt ashamed, seeing the hurt look she gave him. “I was at Osei’s house.”
He saw her shoulders relax.
“Okay.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” she murmured, even though he noticed her tired eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
He would have said the opposite, but right now, his stomach spoke louder than his guilt. He led the way into the dining room and sat down while Esi dished out a local dish, aprapransa, and crabs with boiled groundnuts—one of his favourite meals. He wanted to hug and kiss her, but she kept her distance.
“Osei came here and left an envelope,” she informed him.
Understanding dawned as he reflected on her reaction when he’d confessed to staying at Osei’s place. His friend must have visited to back-up Michael’s story if needed.
“I’ll get it for you,” she said.
As she left, he released a breath. When she returned, he had already begun eating.
“Where have you been today? Osei said you couldn’t have been at the office.”
He shot her a sharp look, but she avoided his eyes. He grimaced, wishing she hadn’t asked.
“Please tell me the truth,” she said.
“I had to go by Lena’s place.”
When he looked at her, the tears that filled her eyes tore his heart. She wouldn’t believe him, but he tried to clarify.
“Don’t bother explaining.”
“It’s not what you think.”
Someone really needed to come up with another expression.
“How do you presume to know what I think?” She shook her head as if willing herself not to cry.
“Esi—” He reached for her, but she snatched her arm away.
“Leave me alone!” she retorted and began to leave. “What happened to the little respect you used to accord me as your wife? You always eat my food and sleep at home.”
Her tears fell, evidence of his condemnation.
“We broke up,” he yelled after her.
“I said you don’t need to bother making up excuses,” she shouted back and disappeared from his sight.
“I’m not seeing her anymore, dammit,” he insisted helplessly.
****
Mansa shielded her eyes against the sun’s rays as she made her way to Esi’s house. Harvest time was over, and the natives of Ebinom were getting closer to the second planting season. Her mother had sent her to her uncle in Accra, which meant she would be able to see her friend again after almost three months.
She didn’t know Esi’s house, but if she mentioned Michael’s work place, her uncle could call and find out. Maame Akua would surely want to send a message or parcel to Esi.
She walked past the Badu house, hoping to glimpse Sefah, but there was nobody in front of it. Disappointed, she continued without stopping. She should probably visit Maame Badu, too, as she might also want to send something to her son.
Dreams can come true. A smile came to her lips as she thought about how happy Esi and Yaw must be at that very moment. The first time Esi had told her she wanted to marry Yaw Badu, Mansa had burst into a frenzied laugh, not only because he’d never noticed them before, but he had already left for America.
When Esi refused to marry Amoah, who didn’t seem too bad if one compared him to some other young men, Mansa began to think seriously about Esi’s feelings for Yaw. Her friend’s decision had turned out to be a good one, because Amoah was a bad husband.
She knew Esi couldn’t be happier than she already was. That knowledge put hope in her heart of one day having her dreams come true as well. She decided to visit Maame Badu on her way back home. Hopefully, Sefah would be home.