By Oghene Omonisa
The atmosphere in the church was that of celebration and happiness. Vivacity was written all over the faces of the guests as they expectedly looked forward to the consummating kiss when the officiating minister intoned: ‘Now, you may kiss the bride.’
Gently, the groom raised the veil off the face of his bride and his seeking lips reached for her expectant luscious lips as she slowly opened them in warm anticipation. Their lips touched and sucked and sweetly rubbed against one another. Then their exploratory tongues came into contact, producing the pleasure that come with it. They kissed for long, longer than usual. Even the officiating minister appeared to be growing impatient. But the guests cheered them on.
It was just like the first time they had kissed exactly one year ago. The memory was still fresh in their minds as their wedding date was fixed for this day to commemorate that day. The day they first kissed was Saturday, 22nd March 2008, the Saturday before Easter. And their wedding was Saturday, 21st March 2009.
On that Saturday, 22nd March 2008, the day they first kissed, the bank she worked with, Eyan-Obaro International Bank Ltd, was having its quarterly zonal party for its low and middle-ranking staff. It was a forum for informal get-together for them to facilitate good working performance. She had been with a branch in Ikeja, Lagos Zone, before she manoeuvred a transfer to another branch in Surulere, within the same zone, two months ago. The transfer became necessary because she had broken up with her boyfriend a month before the transfer and as they worked in the same bank and were in the same branch, she could not cope with the emotional pains that followed. His reason for breaking the relationship was simply that they had dated for ‘too long’, going to a year, and he had no intention of marrying her and wanted them to call it quit to avoid emotional pains on both sides if the break-up came much later. What he did not admit was that he was aware she had honestly and desperately wanted him to marry her and that if he had proposed to her, she would have agreed to marry him any time, even a day after the proposal, and even without any elaborate ceremony. She was 26 then, and he was 28, and she did not see why they could not get married when they were both financially comfortable, he having worked for nearly three years and she for about a year.
With a master’s degree, he still saw years ahead of him, she had suspected, and he clearly wanted more fun. But she wanted to settle down and start a family. She wept and wept the night of the day they broke up, seeing her dream husband slipping away from her fingers. The transfer took only a month after the break-up because she could not stand working with him in the same building everyday.
Her love for him made her keep up with his romance and she learnt he soon after started dating one of the new dolls among the two that were posted to her former branch among the new set of staff that were newly recruited. She and her ex- had not seen since her transfer two months before the zonal party, which she knew he was sure to attend.
She arrived early for the party because she was the punctual and dedicated type. Though she was not part of the planning team, she helped put the venue, a rented hall of the Lagos Eseoghene Hotel, in order and ensured she rendered any form of assistance she could. As more colleagues turned in, she kept an eye for her ex- and his new heartthrob, as her heart kept beating fast each time a new colleague appeared at the entrance.
Most of her colleagues had arrived but her ex- was yet to show up. She began to relax, with the assumption that he might not come after all, assuring herself that even if he came, she would only need to act normal – as if she had taken the break-up in her stride. She greeted and chatted with colleagues from her former branch and felt comfortable.
Feeling her face had begun to grow smeared from the assistance she had rendered to help put the venue in order, she wanted to make her face up and realised she had left her bag in her car. She left for the car park. As she stepped through the pedestrian entrance of the sheltered car park, which was an extension of the hotel building, she saw a male shape outlined against the inner light of a car among the line of cars, with his back to her. The person seemed to be talking to an occupant in the passenger seat. And she suddenly froze! The person backing her was her ex-boyfriend! She could not mistake that outline among a million men. Then her heart seemed to have flown out of her chest, leaving her choking in her breath. She could not move, with her face going white from tension. It was when she saw his partner that she came to life. It was his new doll!
There were movements in the dimly-lit park as people walked in, to get their cars and drive out though the vehicular entrance, or drive in, to walk out of the park through the entrance she had come in, which her former guy and his new doll would need to walk through to the venue.
Quickly, she stepped out, out of sight. Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! What was she to do? She was trembling. She surely could not face them! She could not! Certainly, she could not! What was she to do? She dashed back to the venue, her make-up totally forgotten. She suddenly felt pressed and felt a pee in her pants.
As she entered the hall, a flash of idea came to her. She needed company, somebody to sit with and talk with to relax her muscles. The tables were round, with four seats to a table, and arranged backward from the platform, which had the high table. There was a wide space from the high table to the other tables. Nearly half of the tables, mostly at the back, were yet to be occupied. She had not even selected a table before. The closest empty table had a guy sitting alone – a strange guy!
She walked to the table, appearing as calm and normal as she could. Before she came to stop at the table, a brilliant idea came to her, much better than just needing a company.
‘Hi, could I join you, please?’ she asked the young man, giving him her best smile.
‘Of course, you could.’ The guy’s smile was most inviting.
She sat down beside him, facing the entrance. It was all she could do not to sound or appear desperate. ‘I’m Damilola. I’m with Bode Thomas II Branch, Surulere.’ Then she suddenly realised he might not be one of her colleagues but only a guest. ‘Em ... em …’, she hesitated. ‘Are you one of us or a guest?’
‘I’m one of you.’ He smiled again, a broad smile this time, perhaps at how he had stressed the one of you. ‘Broad Street I’, he added. ‘The name is Lade.’
‘Lade. I love that name. It reminds me of lady.’ She forced a smile. ‘Will you by chance know Sina, one of us in Oregun Branch in Ikeja?’ She was silently calling on heaven for him to say ‘no’.
‘I don’t think I do. No, I don’t know him.’ He paused briefly before asking innocently. ‘Who’s he?’
‘He’s ….’ Even as she spoke, Sina, her former heartthrob, and his new doll appeared at the entrance and her eyes immediately caught them. Then the colour instantly left her face and she went white with tension. Her lips began to quiver as she attempted to speak, with her fingers trembling in a way Lade could not fail to notice.
She had to force the words out in a stammer: ‘He-he-he’s my boy-boy … ex-boy friend.’ Tears began to gather in her eyes as she avoided Lade’s eyes.
Lade understood and remained calm.
From the corners of her eyes, Damilola saw them hesitate briefly at the entrance and seemed to have decided to join her and Lade at their table as it appeared the closest table with vacant seats.
No! No! Christ! Christ! No! They were coming to her. Ho, no! She could no longer breathe. She looked at Lade, her eyes pleading as she said, ‘Please pretend you’re my boyfriend. Please.’
Lade nodded slowly as his left hand reached for her trembling right fingers under the table. He squeezed very hard. She began to feel pain instead of tension and slowly her fingers began to relax.
‘Is that his new flame?’ Lade asked under his breath, giving her a soft smile.
Damilola nodded, the colour returning to her face.
‘Let me handle them,’ Lade volunteered.
‘No, let me try’, Damilola insisted, the sudden conspiracy causing her to completely regain her composure. By the time Sina and his new heartthrob arrived at their table, Damilola was ready.
‘Ho, ho, ho’, Damilola feigned humorous surprise as she stood up to welcome them. ‘Colour me dumb if it’s not my old flame come back to me. Ho, Sina, how pleased I am to see you again.’ She hugged him warmly and tapped him on the back lightly.
Lade stood up.
‘This is Lade, my friend,’ she gestured towards Lade. ‘Lade is one of us and is with Broad Street I Branch.’ Then she gestured towards Sina. ‘And, darling, meet Sina, my ex-.’ She gestured towards Sina’s partner. ‘And this is your new flame, I’m sure.’
Sina nodded, unusually losing control of things.
‘And her name–’ Damilola dramatically suspended her sentence and as Sina seemed to hesitate, she added jokingly: ‘Ho, come on, Sina, don’t forget your manners. Tell us her name.’
‘Nike,’ Sina muttered. ‘Her name is Nike!
‘Nike,’ Damilola feigned ignorance and slow recollection. ‘Yes, Nike. Yes, I can recall her now.’
Damilola was never an artist but if given a sheet of paper and a pen to draw Nike as a condition for Sina to come back to her, she could have drawn a perfect picture from memory because every night, she had thought of the doll that had stolen her man. As for the name, Nike, Damilola knew the name as much as the face. But feigning ignorance was a satisfying response that came to her subconsciously.
They all shook hands.
‘Do have your seat,’ Damilola offered Sina the seat by her side, while Lade gestured Nike to his side.
If Damilola knew Sina very well, then she should understand that he was not comfortable, as he looked like fish out of water. She was sure he had looked forward to showing off his new doll to her, knowing how emotional Damilola was. But Damilola having a new lover and full of so much happiness and liveliness took him off his feet, perhaps even causing envy in him. The thought made Damilola happier and livelier.
Damilola could imagine her colleagues from her former branch straining their eyes and ears to catch how she was handling the situation. She had never felt so good since their break-up. Her bladder that had been threatening to flood her pants with urine suddenly had space to contain her liquid waste. And she had totally forgotten that her smudged face needed a retouch of make-up. She was comfortable inside and naturally felt cool outside.
As in her nature, she entertained her table with lively stories before, during and after the party. When it was dancing time, she danced with Lade. Everybody who noticed her that night could tell she was in love. And when her colleagues from her former branch came to exchange more greetings, an opportunity to meet her new guy, she introduced her ‘darling’ to them all with open excitement.
At the end of the party, Lade waited while Damilola helped with dismantling the decorations and tidying up the venue. Most guests were gone and the dimly-lit park almost deserted when she accompanied Lade to his car at the end of the park. When they got to his car, they paused nervously by the side, with him resting against it, and she facing him.
‘Thank you very much, Lade’, Damilola said in a croak voice. For the first time, she noticed his height, his handsomeness and his designer suit. Then the car – a black Toyota Camry 2006. And she could no longer conceal her nervous excitement from him.
‘Don’t mention’, Lade smiled at her, that same inviting smile he had first given her when she had walked up to him.
She brought both her palms up in a clasp and he gently held them together in his palms and pulled her towards himself. They stared at each other briefly before his hands then reached for her face and he gently rubbed his fingers across her cheeks while she stared at his eyes intently. She could smell the faint aroma of his perfume and she began to grow weak as his lips reached for her lips, with his lips slowly parting hers. And they began to kiss. He was gentle and skillful and she responded accordingly.
A little while later, his hands slipped to her mounds of buttocks and he gently squeezed them and she responded, with her kiss going fierce. It was when the squeezing became slower and rhythmical, with his fingers feeling her skin through her light dress, that she began to roll her hips in time with the rhythm and she began to feel moistness between her thighs. The bones of her legs seemed to go limp and could no longer carry her weight. She was going down with soft moans when he held her up and skillfully manoeuvred her, having her with her back against the car. His hands had moved to her head and held her close as they continued kissing ….
Back in the church on their wedding day, exactly a year after the first kiss, their wedding kiss was long, just like the first one. When finally they let go of each other’s lips, the guests cheered and cheered.
And the newly-wedded couple smiled, staring at each other’s eyes. Not far from their minds were the thoughts of how they had parted on the night of their first meeting, of how a relationship was born and of how they dated for less than six months before he eventually proposed.
They smiled happily to each other as the enthusiastic guests continued cheering.
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