Kindled Hearts

20// Reunion

Nicole leaned against the upholstered seat and watched the girl's lips move with far much gusto and haste for an eight year old. The last time Nicole had seen of her, was three years ago, when Joy was still a baby, full of pudge to her cheeks and armed with a pair of clammy legs that could barely stay put within the conceited foyer that Nicole had once called home.

"Mum thinks I don't know, but I know."  Joy said, a twinkle of mischief and indignation to her eyes. Nicole wondered how Joy could even pull of the look. She was after all, still a child.

Nicole asked, "Know what?"

Joy looked behind her shoulders, then inched closer, her knees to Nicole's. "That her plaiting is terrible. One time I went to school and everyone laughed at me. They said I looked like Anabelle the doll but with a higher horrific definition. Now I don't even know what that means." She puckered her lips, nibbled on them and then stared down at her worn jeans

"But your hair is short."

"Yeah I had to cut it, but now they say, Annabelle decided to mow her fields. I don't get them."

Nicole chuckled, frayed the young girl's head and felt sharp pricks to her hand. She withdrew her hand. "You look amazing. Don't mind them."

Joy flushed, stared at Nicole. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Joy beamed, stirred from the seat and started to move away when Margaret Njeri showed up. She held onto her daughter's hand and then glowered at her. "What did I tell you about disturbing the guests?"

"Nicole ain't a guest mama." Joy pouted, trying to wriggle out of the tight hold.

"It's aunt Nicole," Margaret reprimanded. "Now off you go."

Joy slipped out of her mother's hold and dashed across the foyer, the trill of her voice audible from the  balcony that overlooked a large swath of meadow and a brook to its furthest left. Margaret turned to Nicole and asked, "she was not giving you trouble, was she?"

"No, not all. She grew up real fast, she seems like a great kid," Nicole said.

"Yeah she is, except, she's too wanton. I can't keep up," Margaret sighed and sat next to Nicole.

Nicole noted that the woman had aged, wisps of grey peeped at the crown of her head, the skin around her eyes, wrinkled and of pale colour, her frame tiny and bony, she almost looked homely, like a washed out piece of rag. But Nicole could remember that Margaret Njeri was once beautiful.

"I missed you nanny," Nicole heaved, breathed in the smell of ginger and freshly grounded cinnamon and almost immediately felt a throb to her pulse, she wished she could hug Margaret's bony frame, but she was no small child. "Seems like forever since I last saw you."

Margaret smiled and gently clasped Nicole's hand. "Yeah, it's been long. Am glad you came, we are all happy you are here." Margaret then cast her eyes round the living room, paused at the small crowd by the large open window, and finally said, "but this 'prodigal daughter returns' little party was not my idea. God knows I can't stand the sight of plastic smiles."

Nicole smiled. "He hasn't changed, has he?"

"No. Don't get him wrong. He's changed, that's for sure, but still, he is an old dog and you know what they say about old dogs."

"Can't teach an old dog new tricks?"

"Nope. Old dogs don't lick their balls."

Nicole suppressed a laugh. " I see you still got your humor intact."

"It's the only thing keeping me sane here," Margaret paused, more silence, then said, "wished the same could be said about your Madam Isabel."

Nicole felt a snare to her throat, tightening and rippling apart the carapace she'd previously built. She quaked, searched in Margaret's eyes for a single twitch of hope and reprieve. "How is she? Does she eat well? Is mama okay?"

"Go and talk to her. She's in the kitchen." Margaret said, gave a squeeze to Nicole's hand, then stood to her feet. "I need to check on Joy."

"Right, of course."

         ******
Nicole draped her frame by the door and watched in silence. Isabel had her back to Nicole, busy by the kitchen sink. The tap was on, Nicole could hear its raucous purr echo inside the kitchen like the sounds of a crazed piano in every movie scene just before danger ensued. But there was no danger here, only tension and starved emotions, wicking through the ceiling like sweat off a body.

The tap suddenly stilled.

Nicole felt her nerves still too as Isabel turned away from the sink and started to move towards the island, then, as though she could sense her own daughter, her eyes darted to the door. She paused, a smile to her face. "Nicole, you should be resting?"

"Am not tired mama." Nicole walked to the island, dragged a stool from underneath it and sat herself down, her elbows against the chrome worktop. Silence crept into the kitchen, loud enough, Nicole could almost hear a wild rattle to her ears. She let her eyes roam to her mother, lingering a second longer at her visage, then back at the worktop where Isabel was busy cleaning the surface with a white towel. "You look different."

Isabel merely hummed, crimping tightly the towel in her hand. She was avoiding eye contact. Nicole noted.

"Why do you say so?"

Nicole thought of saying you look wanly mother but instead, she asked, "How's your therapy these days?"

Isabel demurred, a clear hesitation to her jowls. She looked to Nicole and  stringed a smile, a smile that Nicole thought as being quite off.

"I stopped going."

"Why mama?"

Isabel didn't answer, she turned to the sink, opened and closed the tap, wiped her hands  against the fabric of her apron, then came over by the counter and sat on a stool. "I couldn't stand the sessions any more when you left, I had to quit," Isabel finally said.

Nicole twisted in her seat, stared down at her hands. "Why didn't you tell me mother?"

"Why would I when you couldn't even pick my calls. I was a bother, wasn't I?"

"No. No, mother. Never," Nicole said, tears to her eyes. She realized father was right, she acted selfish, didn't think about how her actions would impact her mother. "Am sorry for how I acted back then, I shouldn't have abandoned you and father."

Isabel leaned forward on the counter and reached for Nicole's hand. "You only acted right."

"No, I was selfish and self-centered." Nicole stood to her feet, walked towards Isabel and hugged her frame from the back. "Am really sorry mama."

"It's okay my child, I forgive you," Isabel sniffled and pulled Nicole's hand tightly to her chest. "Could we now talk about something else?"

"Yes. How we are going to get you back to therapy."

"No need for that."

"Why not?"

"I think I'll do just fine."