Kwabena swiped at his phone on the couch when it began to buzz. He was enjoying a rare lazy day at his sister's house, catching up on Nigerian movies. The number belonged to Joyce, and after a quick celebratory hand pump, he answered.
"Joyce, whats up, whats up?"
"Hi Kobs, how are you?" She sounded short, and upset.
"I am good. What happened? Everything ok?"
"Mom is ... Aaah, I don't want to talk about it. What are you doing today?"
"Right now, a whole lot of nothing. Blossom is entertaining me. I will be running a few errands later."
"Sounds like fun", she finally said. "Well, was just checking on you. I will talk to you before ..."
"Hey, do you want to join me today? It will be a lot more fun if you are around."
"Are you sure? I don't want to cramp your style, Mr. Burger."
"Do you want me to beg? Or bribe? Ok, then. You can pick a book from any bookstore, on me."
"Ok, ok. You don't need to do all that. Where should I meet you?"
"Can you come to my sister's house in North K? I will drive us from here."
"Yeah, I can do that. Drop me a pin on google maps."
"Ok, see you soon."
Kwabena was in the guest room when the door bell rang. As he rushed out to open it, he heard the door open.
"Oh hi. Akos, right?", came Joyce's voice.
"Eii Joyce, so you don't remember me, ehhh?", his sister responded. "So thats why this boy put on nice clothes. Don't stand there like a stranger. Come on in".
Kwabena's heart skipped a beat when Joyce smile as she saw him. "Hi Kobs", she said.
"Kobs, huh?", Akos echoed. "Interesting, interesting". Kwabena quickly jumped in.
"I see you two have met."
"Oh you too? I have met Joyce before, though she may not remember now", Akos responded.
"No, I don't", Joyce said looking surprised. "I am usually good about remembering people but ..."
Akos laughed her consternation. "Don't worry, this was about 10 years ago, and it was only for a brief period. How are your parents?"
Kwabena sat in the living room as the ladies exchanged pleasantries. Presently, Joyce joined him on the couch.
"So that is Akos, huh?"
Akos came into the living room right on cue. She glanced at both of them in the couch with a quizzical look her eye.
"Kids, I am off. Can I trust you to behave yourselves", she said. her tone laden with mischief.
"Yes, mom", Kwabena jibed, knowing it would infuriate Akos.
"Oh, commot for there", she responded walking out of the house.
Joyce smiled at the exchange between them. "Is she always like that", she asked, settling back into the couch.
"Oh, this little display? You no see nothing sef", Kwabena responded. "That woman is a terrorist". Akos' eyes crinkled in laughter, and her body sagged deeper into the couch.
"I like her". Kwabena's look must have been so incredulous. "Aaba, why look so shocked? She is assertive and straightforward. If I could be more like that, life would be so much easier". Kwabena observed a shadow pass over her face.
"Thats it", he said bounding off the couch. "We are going to eat, and you are going to talk. Something is obviously weighing you down, and I intend to ply you with food until you tell me".
Joyce's eyes widened, and she pulled slightly away from him. and for a second, Kwabena was confused. Neither his tone nor demeanor had been threatening, but Joyce looked ready to bolt. Then it hit him.
"You don't have to talk about Koku, unless you really want to. But something else is eating at you. Which is why you are here, right?"
She let out a loud breath. "Yes", she said. "You surprise me, you know? Sometimes, you seem to have a third eye", she said. She grasped his outstretched hand, and pulled herself out of the couch.
Joyce looked at the spread in front of her in awe. "Roasted tilapia, light soup, jollof rice and a fruit salad. I wasn't hungry before, but I definitely am now. Did you make all this?" Kwabena beamed. She seemed to appreciate good food as much as he did, which was a rarity.
"Of course, I made it. From scratch. All by myself with no help at all."
Suspicion clouded Joyce's features with every word he said. "Akos made this, didn't she", Joyce deduced, after seeing the twinkle in Kwabena's eyes.
"I helped immensely. I sat here and kept her company, regaling her with stories to keep her morale up. I was emotional support."
Joyce sampled the tilapia and the soup, and groaned in delight. "Mmmmm, this is heavenly. Is Akos looking for a roommate? I would offer my food tasting services free of charge".
Kwabena preened as if he was the one being praised. "Yeah, she is something else. A tenacious lawyer and maestro chef. And somehow, my mom troubles her about getting married". There was a visible change in Joyce's demeanor at those words, confirming what Kwabena had suspected.
"Oh, I wouldn't have expected that. But I guess I shouldn't be too surprised", Joyce said. Kwabena sat in the chair across from her and began to eat.
"Good thing is that Akos doesn't take crap from anyone, and she calls mom out if the needling gets out of hand. I started getting similar pressure a year ago, though its nothing like Akos gets."
"How do you handle it?"
"I moved out of their house. There is only so much pressure they can exert from afar. Nowadays, I listen to Mom's speech, nod, and keep on rolling."
Akos glanced down at her soup. "I wish I could do that."
Kwabena nodded. He had witnessed the effects of the societal stigma attached to single women who lived alone in Ghana.
"Your mom is still troubling you?", he asked gently. Joyce's face had fallen, her large brown eyes beginning to mist over. Then she seemed to catch herself; she shook herself and gave Kwabena a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"She means well".
"And hurts you all the same", Kwabena countered. He didn't shift or waver in his gaze; he wanted Joyce to know how important this was to him.
Kwabena stood up to sit in the chair immediately adjacent to Joyce. After a moment's hesitation, he put his hand over Joyce's on the kitchen table. Her breath hitched, and she automatically started to pulled back her hand. She seemed to catch herself, held her hand still in his gentle grasp, and smiled tremulously at him. Kwabena schooled his features to hide his relief.
"You know, I am always available to talk. I don't do very well with emotional stuff, but I have a few jokes that will make you forget your worries", he offered. He was tempted to lighten the situation with the ridiculous facial expressions that always cracked her up, but refrained, hoping to keep the mood somber.
"You do have a way of making me feel better. Thats why I called you this ..."
"Your mom is up to her usual shenanigans?" Joyce sat back in the kitchen chair and took a deep breath. She pulled her hand out of Kwabena's grasp to rub her face, then rested it on her knee. The silence between them stretched for a few more seconds. Finally, Joyce looked up at him and nodded.
"You are too observant, you know." He shook his head vehemently in denial, causing Joyce to laugh at the exaggeration.
"There you go again. Making things better without even trying." Kwabena feigned a shocked expression, and emphatically shook his head. When Joyce stopped giggling, she said "Yeah, its mom again. She saw us through the window when you dropped me off the other night, and she has been on my case since. I do not want to talk about it, though". She reached out, took Kwabena's hand and squeezed, as if to comfort him. Then she got up off the table and started loading their dishes into the sink.
Kwabena watched her fluid, graceful movements in the kitchen. It was her first time in the house, but she seemed to know instinctively where things were. She quickly washed their dishes and placed them in the drainer. She turned around and caught Kwabena watching her.
"What is it? Do I have soap in my hair", she asked. Kwabena indicated to the chair opposite him.
"Sit. I want to talk to you about something."
"You look so serious. Is there some bad news?"
"Oh no, not at all. Its just ...". Kwabena paused, took a deep breath, and looked straight into her large brown eyes. "Joyce, you know I like you. Very much". Joyce's expression went from confused to apprehensive. Kwabena hurried on. "I told you that my mom has been pressuring me to get married. While I deflect and ignore, the pressure is getting to be unbearable. I know you are hurting, with Koku and things with your mom, and I don't mean to compound your misery. However, I was thinking we could help each other out."
Joyce had recovered from her shock, and a flash of anger came over her face. "If you are saying what I think you are saying, you have another thing coming your way. What makes you think I am that kind of woman?", she fumed.
Kwabena was quiet, transfixed in confusion. Angry Joyce was austere, severe and stunning. Oh, he was in over his head.
"Perhaps you misunderstand ..." he started to say, raising his palms slightly in the universal sign of surrender.
"You seemed like such a decent guy. I should have known", Joyce mused, as she stood up in preparation to leave. Kwabena quickly jumped and clasped her arm, which Joyce looked at with such venom that he quickly withdrew it.
"Please, hear me out. I am not sure what you are thinking, but ...". Joyce glared at him steadily for a second, regulating her breathing. Slowly, she sat back down, her wary expression watching his. As the silence unfurled between them, Joyce widened her eyes at him, as if to ask, 'Well?'.
"Marry me".