Mide’s Abor with Olamide Longe
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Maria stiffened at first, but then returned the embrace. She felt some tightness in her throat. She hadn’t bargained for tears. She shut her eyes tightly and hoped to prevent them from falling. Then Elizabeth’s mum stepped back and looked into her eyes. She was silently weeping.
Maria felt herself reeling from the pressure of the moment. How do you begin a conversation with someone you hadn’t talked to in years? Someone who had looked at you with disdain the last time you saw her, but was now looking at you with adoring eyes and you knew was in great pain, and who was like a mother to you, therefore you couldn’t be flippant and make some inane joke to ease the tension.
“I’m sorry. I am so deeply sorry,” she heard herself say. And those tears began to fall fast and heavily. Elizabeth’s mum held her. “You are a good girl,” she said. “A good person,” she repeated with emphasis. “You always have been.” Her eyes said a hundred things words could not convey. “Thank you for coming.” She had aged and didn’t have that rich glow she used to.
“I’m sorry,” Maria said again. “I’m sorry I didn’t bridge the gap sooner. I allowed it to widen for so long.” She looked at Elizabeth who had remained in the doorway. She knew she would have to take the steps that would close the distance between them; Elizabeth had come as far as she would. Same old Elizabeth, even in her destroyed state. No matter how much she desired a thing, she only did so much to get it. But there had always been someone to help her to her goal; someone was always there to anticipate her need and somehow, everything turned out for her good.
Maria went to her. Tears were spilling down her face. For a cynical moment, Maria wondered if they were tears of remorse or self-pity. She reached out and took her hands. “I’m sorry, sorry about everything. Everything.”
Elizabeth’s silent weeping turned into a wail.
They ended up in her room. Elizabeth’s old room. The room Maria had spent many nights. It held many good memories. She helped Elizabeth into her bed, which was huge and entirely unfamiliar. And the walls were bare. They used to be covered with pictures of pop stars and models. There was not one single photograph to be seen.
Elizabeth was thin. Unflatteringly so. Her cheekbones jutted out. She used to be chubby. She’d devoured her mother’s fashion magazines, always tearing out and pinning up the picture of one model or another as her body goal for the month. Maria had delighted in disparaging them. She’d had no weight issues.
She sighed. Time to leave the past where it belonged. The present was going to be difficult enough. Elizabeth had been staring at her, while she had been looking everywhere else. She faced her and unconsciously held her breath.
Elizabeth gestured for her to sit. There was no chair so Maria sat at the edge of the bed. “Thank you for coming. I can never stop thanking you,” Elizabeth said, her voice was croaky.
Maria couldn’t wait to find out why she wanted her there. “Emmanuel told me what happened and that you were asking for me.”
“And here you are. Even though I don’t deserve it.”
Maria focused on a spot behind her head.
“Forgive me, Maria. I’m sorry for how I acted that day.”
Maria sighed. “This is all very strange to me. That day has nothing to do with what happened to you. I didn’t know your husband, I never met him.” She kept her voice gentle even though she was freaking out. Was Elizabeth still attributing to her some other-worldly powers?
“Forgive me. Please, say you will.”
“I have, Elizabeth. I wouldn’t be here if I haven’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. All is forgiven.”
Elizabeth flung herself at her and hugged her, startling Maria and almost falling both of them out of the bed in the process. “Oh, thank you so much. I will be all right, now. Everything will be all right.”
Maria extricated herself from Elizabeth. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just that. I have you back. I think I will be happy again.”
Maria sat there speechless and thoroughly confused. And as if to buttress her point, Elizabeth laid back on the bed and within minutes, was asleep.
Maria went to find her mother who had left them alone so they could talk. She was in the sitting room. She wasn’t alone. Elizabeth’s father had surfaced from wherever he’d been.
She greeted him. He was completely grey, but wasn’t looking worn out like his wife. He beamed at her and told her how grateful he was that she came to visit. She replied that it was her great pleasure. She expressed her condolences, wondering how her disappearance from their lives had been explained to him. He hadn’t been around much, but he knew her to be a constant presence whenever he was. He asked how she was doing and where she worked. After her answers, he excused himself.
“I told the maid to prepare something for you,” Elizabeth’s mum said. “I hope it is no problem.”
“No. Thank you. Elizabeth is sleeping.”
“That is wonderful. Thank you.”
Maria shook her head. “Ma, I don’t understand why she wanted me here. And her asking me to forgive her; I feel very uncomfortable.”
“You are not the only she’s been begging to forgive her.”
Maria’s heart jumped into her mouth. When it settled back, she turned her head to look at who had spoken.
Enoch stood in the same doorway Elizabeth had earlier occupied, his eyes trained on her. Where had he come from? Had he been around all this time?
“But the one she really needs to forgive her is dead and buried. So, she is replacing him with proxies,” he finished.
To be concluded next week.
