Preordained #ProjectNigeria

30- Olfactory Stimulation

I'm sure we look like bashful teenagers, standing in the midst of the crowd but so focused on each other, with my arms folded, his hands in his pockets and both of us sporting Cheshire smiles.

"I'm too tired for an outing," I confess. And too wary that I'll end up falling for you like a zombie.

But Maduka doesn't let it slide easily. "How about dinner at my place, then? Some homemade food by the chef himself?"

"Oh, you're inviting a chef, eh?"

He rolls his eyes, and I must say, he looks so good doing it. The special smile that goes with the act makes me hold my breath. It is one-sided, revealing his white upper canine. He notices my hesitation and raises both palms.

"I'll be completely cool if you don't want to, baby girl."

Did he just have to call me baby girl while saying he doesn't mind if I say no? I wonder.

"I'll think about it."

Maduka's POV~

She likes it.

Baby girl, I muse while driving Nwanyieze towards her place. My hectic day is forgotten with her in the car, singing along to Brenda Fassie's No Señor while I wait for a red light at Maryland junction.

"You know your songs," I tell her, impressed.

"I used to listen to them when I was little. On weekends, my Daddy would- oh, I'd like to buy some guinea eggs."

In a second, she has pushed the button and the glass lowers. She hisses at a hawker selling guinea eggs. The young boy runs towards our car, and Nwanyieze selects two wraps of eggs, pays the boy, and makes the glass go back up, shutting out the noise from the traffic.

I wait for her to continue her story, but instead, she asks, "So what are you cooking for us?"

"It's a surprise," I reply, turning to look at her. Her attention is on one of the eggs which she peels slowly.

"Do you know what they call these in Igbo?"

"Akwa ogazi."

"Ezigbo Nwafor," she congratulates me. True Igbo child.

This is the second time she's stopped a conversation because of her 'daddy'. Curiosity fills my mind, but I know not to push her.

At her place, I wait patiently while she takes a shower and changes her clothes. When she emerges, dressed in a flowing blue and pink silk buba, my breath catches. The silk shimmers with each movement and I imagine the shape of her body underneath it's layers. In fact, I envy the material for being so close to her skin, closer than I am.

"Uncle, red block," Adanna pipes from beside me on the floor, her small hands on my face, trying to take back my attention.

"Of course, princess," I reply before tearing my eyes away from Nwanyieze.

Adanna and I have erected another castle, this one bigger than the last. She insists on placing her dolls on the three minarets and I'm left with the task of balancing them where she wants them to be. When I'm done, she claps her hands in glee, throws her arms around me, and says, "Pretty, beautiful, thank you!" My heart melts instantly.

"She's such a sweetheart," I tell Nwanyieze, who is slipping her feet into a pair of pink fluffy slippers.

"Let her throw your phone into water and you'll feel the full effect," she replies.

Mama Uju enters, looks at Adanna and I, and smiles. "She really likes you, Maduka."

But her smile seems to say, "They both really like you."