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Tilly was at the dining table reading an email from her cousin, Francine—who sincerely didn’t mind that Tilly couldn’t make it to her wedding and completely understood the situation. Tilly was thankful for this. She could skip this trip without dire blowback. Her mother would be the only person to give her grief, and Tilly could manage that.
This was now the third event she had dodged since the last time she and her family had visited home two years ago. That last trip, when she made the mistake of spending the entire summer in Massachusetts with the boys, had been an ordeal. Dave had only been able to take off two weeks, leaving her mostly alone with parental duties: taking care of their kids and dealing with both her and Dave’s parents. His parents started to wear on her toward the end, but they weren’t too bad. Her parents, most notably her mother, had been passive aggressive for almost all of the visit. Worst of all, her boys hated being there for such a long time.
None of them had been born in the States. They hadn’t grown up there. While they seemed thoroughly American when they were overseas, in truth they were Third Culture Kids—children who have grown up in a culture not native to either parent. Theirs was a mix of cultures, experiences, and values coming from Indonesia, Singapore, Western Europe, and a tiny bit of America.
They didn’t fit in with the other kids they met that summer. They were uncomfortable and unable to enjoy themselves. All of the shorter visits they had made before had been fine. Those had been limited to three weeks. However, the long stretch of June through early August was more than her sons could handle. What was meant to be a vacation was instead a lesson in culture shock.
At one point, Peter, then only six, asked when they would go home. Tilly’s mother told him that he was already home, causing him to burst into tears. Tilly had to assure him that they would return to Nairobi in a few weeks. It had not been an easy task to calm him down. Thinking about all this, Tilly was thankful that she and Dave agreed about staying in Kenya. It was the right thing for their family.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing. She groaned and rolled her eyes. Who was calling right at three in the afternoon when the kids were about to arrive home from school? She checked the caller ID and saw it was Pauline. Knowing the reason for the call, her heart sank. Frowning, she answered the phone.
“Hey there...Wait, slow down...Okay, take a breath and then tell me what happened...What a fucking dick! Listen, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to come get you and you’re going to stay here for a few days...Perfect. Do that. Start packing up some stuff. I’ll be there soon.”
Tilly hung up and found her housekeeper, who had been dusting the bookshelves in the living room. “Caroline, I need to go out for a bit. It’s an emergency. Will you be fine on your own with the boys?”
“Of course, madam. No problem. Is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not. I’ll tell you about it later.” Tilly grabbed her purse from the hallway table as she headed out the door. “Can you please make sure the guest room is ready? We’ll have someone staying with us for a few days, maybe longer.”
#
“There it is again,” Tilly said to her Defender as she drove to Pauline’s bungalow. Over the past few days, Tilly could hear a soft, knocking sound, as if something was sliding around in the interior of the vehicle. “What the hell is that noise? Once I get Pauline settled, I need to take you to Foley’s Garage and get you a full check-up. I want you in top shape for spring break next month. I promised the boys we’d drive down to the coast. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Mama’s going to take care of you.”
She pulled her focus back to driving as she turned onto Thigiri Ridge Road. Although she kept an eye out for the side street where Pauline lived, she, as usual, missed it. Tilly hated making U-turns on the busy road but today she managed without any difficulty. There’s no way I’ll luck out on the next turn. That would be asking too much from the traffic gods, she thought. She spotted the street sign and then waited for an opening in the traffic to make the right-hand turn. Seven cars passed by on the opposite lane before a kind soul stopped to let her make the turn. As she waved to thank the driver, she noticed the car’s diplomatic plate. It was the same black Russian Federation sedan she saw that afternoon in Eastleigh when she saw Curt. Hmmm, you again. That’s funny.
She made the turn and pulled up to the bungalow gate. Recognizing her, the askari immediately opened the gate to let her into the driveway. As she hopped down from the Defender, she noticed there were no other cars. Confused, she looked around the compound.
“Pauline?” she called out.
“Hi, I’m here. I think I need to pack a few more things. I need more time to finish,” Pauline said, leaning out of one of the bungalow windows.
“Let me come in and help you.”
She went inside and into the bedroom, where a wide array of clothes was spread out on the king-sized bed. Tilly counted no less than twelve dresses, including a cocktail dress. There were some bikini bottoms, countless pairs of yoga pants, and a heap of underwear. There were jeans, skirts, and a pile of socks. Tilly squinted at what might have been a crumpled evening gown. She observed that, among the explosion of clothing, there were no tops. Pauline needed massive help. Tilly decided to take over the task.
“You know what? Sit back. Let me take care of this for you.”
After sorting out what to pack, Tilly and Pauline found Kennedy, who was working on the netting on the kitchen windows.
“Kennedy,” Pauline began, “I need to go out for a few days. I don’t know how long I’ll be away.”
“Is everything all right, madam?” He put down his tools and came closer to them.
“No, not really. But I’ll be okay,” Pauline said.
Tilly could tell Pauline was struggling to find an explanation. She jumped in to help her friend. “She’s going to stay with me for a while. Do you have everything you need for a few days?”
Kennedy nodded.
“It’s getting close to the end of the month. Pauline, do you pay cash or MPESA? Or Airtel? Some other mobile money?”
“MPESA, Madam Tilly,” Kennedy said, referring to the mobile money system from Safaricom, the ubiquitous mobile provider in Kenya. “Madam can pay me that way, as she always does. It’s no problem. Can I call if I need something for the house?”
Tilly looked at Pauline, who nodded.
“Thank you, madam,” he said. He paused a moment before continuing. “Shall I say anything to Mr. Curt if he asks?”
“You can tell him I’m at Tilly’s. And that’s all you know because it really is all you know. I hate to burden you with this, Kennedy.”
“It is fine, madam. As long as I know what you want me to say, there will be no problem with Mr. Curt,” he said. He moved closer to Pauline and stage whispered. “I am on your side. Always, madam. Always.”
Kennedy’s chivalry and support surprised Tilly. Her own household staff was amazing, but this was a level of care she had not seen before. He had Pauline’s back. She wondered if it was because of what he saw of their marriage. House help did notice most of what was going on in a given home, but how awful was Curt to Pauline for Kennedy to take sides?
As the three of them headed out of the house, they noticed two white men by the gate. They were talking to the askari, trying to coax their way into the compound. The askari seemed to be telling them to leave. Kennedy gestured for Pauline and Tilly to stand back and went to see what was happening.
“Hey, where’s your car?” Tilly asked.
“It’s at Village Market. Zara got me a taxi home.”
“Do you feel like you can drive? I know you hate to, even on a good day.”
“I’m fine now. I mean, I’m okay to drive.”
“Then let’s go pick it up and drive back to my place.”
Kennedy walked over to them as they were getting into the Defender.
“What was that all about?” Pauline asked him.
“I’m not exactly sure, madam. They asked if you were home. Of course, they must not know you, because they could see you and they were still asking. That’s why I said no. I said you were not at home. Then they asked a little bit about Madam Tilly’s car. I think they were mostly admiring it.”
“Do you think they were scoping it out?” Tilly asked. “You know, like to steal it later?”
Kennedy shrugged. “You can never know, Madam Tilly.”
“It feels weird to me. But they’re gone now and we need to get moving,” she said. “Pauline, are you ready?”
Pauline nodded and got into the Defender.
“Thank you, Kennedy,” Tilly said, as she got in and started up the engine.
She made a series of short moves forward, backward, and at various angles to position the Defender toward the front gate. She put a hand on Pauline’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back to my place. There’s a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc chilled and ready for us.”
#
Later that evening, Pauline decided to call it an early night and retired upstairs to the guest room. As soon as she was out of earshot, Tilly’s boys began their interrogation. They wanted to know why Pauline was there. Tilly had given them vague responses, but they weren’t having it. Her old tactics no longer worked on the trio. They were growing up fast and their bullshit detectors were fully developed. Ron and Ed flanked her on the couch while Peter stood right in front of her. They had her surrounded and made it clear they wanted real answers.
“Mom, we already know Curt’s an...um,” Ron began, catching himself before cursing.
“Asshole,” Dave said, entering the living room, bottle of Tusker in hand. “The word is ‘asshole’ and it’s appropriate to use in this context. We talked about context, remember?”
“Thanks, Dave. I think,” Tilly said.
“What?” Dave questioned as he sat in the recliner. “They need to know these things. Context is important!”
Tilly sighed and shook her head. Dave shrugged and drank his beer. Tilly could tell he wasn’t going to be any help with this conversation.
“Did Curt cheat on Pauline?” Peter, her youngest, asked.
“Oh, sweetie. What do you know about that?” Tilly asked him.
“I don’t know. Cindy’s mom is upset because her dad is cheating. They’re getting a divorce.”
“They’re moving back to England,” Ed added.
Tilly looked over at Ron, who had mentioned the issues with Cindy’s mom back in February. She was getting the bigger picture now. Expat life amplified things. The end of a marriage was a hard enough thing in your home country. Abroad, it could be a thousand times harder. Catching herself going down a rabbit hole of thought, Tilly brought her focus back to the present conversation.
“Fine, I’ll tell you. Yes, Curt is an asshole. But don’t say that in front of Pauline. He did cheat, but he was also a jerk in other ways. He wasn’t ever all that nice to her. So, long before all of this, I never liked him. But don’t say that in front of her either. Remember, this is all private and you can’t share this with your friends. Don’t even talk to Pauline about it unless she brings it up first.
“She has a lot going on. This is a really tough time for her. She’s going to stay with us for a while until she figures out what she wants to do.”
“How long will she stay with us?” asked Ron, suddenly excited.
“I don’t know. At least a few days. It could be longer.”
“She can stay as long as she wants,” he swooned.
Tilly and Dave both laughed but then pretended to cough as Ron shot them each an irritated look. He obviously had a crush. From the dreamy looks on Ed and Peter’s faces, she figured all three shared that crush. As shitty as things were for Pauline, at least she would be surrounded by admiring males.