Chapter 38
We get to the backyard, and I am pleasantly surprised that Dominic’s father does not look the way I had imagined – like his son, the elderly Inyang is tall, lean, and handsome, with greying hair. On the other hand, I am annoyed to see Pamela looking like a bonafide member of the family in her minuscule bum shorts that stops just below her butt cheeks, and a knit crop top showing off her flatter than flat belly. Her short hair is styled into shiny finger curls with sleek baby hairs in front, while her feet are partially hidden inside a pair of Gucci slides. When she sees me, she gives me a slow, sweeping look from my head to my toes, letting me know that I am not welcome here.
“Hello, Father!” Dominic greets his dad enthusiastically. He untangles himself from his mother and approaches his father.
“Hey, son!” Exclaimed the older Inyang, as he steps forward to embrace his son. “It’s good to see you again in real life.”
Dominic laughs. “What do you mean by ‘real-life?’”
“Well, you know these days, I only see you on TV or the pages of business magazines. It’s refreshing to finally see you again in person. I don’t have to ask how you are, because I can see that you are doing great, Ace, judging by your beautiful company here.”
“Ah, yes,” says Dominic with a winning grin. “Meet my girlfriend, Uzezi. Babe, this is my father, obviously. The one and only Mr. Obong Inyang.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” I greet him politely and even curtsy a little for good measure. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The feeling is mutual, my dear. Welcome to this oversized house that I share with my delectable wife here, Marilyn.”
“Stop complaining about the size of the house, you love it,” Marilyn says and swats her husband playfully on the shoulder.
“Guilty as charged,” Obong laughs. “Dom, aren’t you going to introduce the ladies to one another?”
“We’ve met before,” Pamela says with a smug smile. “Hello, Uzezi. Nice seeing you again?”
“Oh, I’ve forgotten that you all mingle together in Lagos,” says Obong. “Anyway, now that we have gotten the introductions out of the way, why don’t you guys make yourselves comfortable at the table while Pam-Pam and I finish up here.”
Ook… so, Dominic’s parents each have a nickname for Pamela? Wow, just wow.
“Hello, handsome,” Pamela greets Dominic with a salacious wink.
“Hey, Pam. How’s it going?” He answers her with a smile.
“Great,” she says with a grin that seems to have hidden meanings.
Dominic escorts me to the outdoor dining table that is already set with so much food, I wonder if they are expecting more guests for this ‘intimate’ family luncheon. Who is going to eat all this food? If we are unable to finish the food, will they be given to the domestic staff to eat or will they be packed and stored in the refrigerator as leftovers to be eaten by the family again? Do rich people eat leftovers?
“I hope you like burgers, Uzezi, because you are about to eat the best burger you have ever tasted in your entire life,” Obong brags confidently.
“As long as you remember not to burn the patty,” Marilyn remarks dryly.
I chuckle. “Yes, sir. I like burgers.”
“Good. Don’t listen to the naysayers, my burger is one of a kind,” Obong laughs.
“That’s an interesting way to describe it,” says Marilyn, before taking a sip of red wine.
“Say wat you want, but I know Uzezi will enjoy it,” Obong insists.
I appreciate the effort Obong is making to be friendly with me, even when he doesn’t have to. Unlike his wife who has spent the last few minutes sending me signals to let me know that she’s not on my side and not ready to be either.
“And when is this world-famous burger going to be ready?” Marilyn asks in a bored tone.
“It’s done!” Pamela announces with relish. “Come on, Pops. Let’s serve it up.”
Obong rubs his hands together gleefully and joins Pamela at the grill. A house-help seems to materialize from nowhere and she joins them in plating the burgers, then she brings the pile on a gold-plated tray to the dining table.
“Ok, it’s the moment of truth now,” says Dominic as his father and Pamela come to join us at the table.
“Everyone, please go ahead and dig in,” says Obong, happily. I can tell that he is extremely proud of his burgers even though we haven’t tasted them and given our verdict yet.
The luncheon officially begins, and we start eating, passing dishes back and forth like a family, and within minutes my initial nervousness starts to gradually dissipate. True to Obong’s bragging, his burgers are good, although Pamela is busy trying to take the credit for it because she participated in the preparation.
“This is really good,” I tell Obong, after swallowing a mouthful of burger.
“Thank you, my dear,” he beams proudly. “I’m glad you appreciate good food.”
“Good junk food,” Marilyn says and takes another sip of wine. “I don’t even want to imagine how many calories I have just ingested now.”
“Two hundred and fifty calories, to be precise,” says Pamela who is now gobbling down a bunch of fries one after another.
“Ugh, Pamela. Always ready to supply the unpleasant specifics,” laughs Marilyn. “No more food for me today.”
“You only nibbled your food, sweetheart. Why not try that delicious looking chicken breast over there?” Obong suggests to his wife.
“Are you trying to fatten me up?” She laughs but makes no attempt to reach for the said chicken.
“I couldn’t even if I tried. I imagine this lunch will be followed by a 21-day vegan diet and some grueling workout sessions with your army of personal trainers,” Obong counters playfully.
“Health is wealth,” she replies airily. “We are not as young as we used to be.”
“I agree, my love,” Obong says and bites into a well-seasoned grilled turkey lap.
“I always enjoy these sort of banters between you two,” Dominic grins.
“You should come home more often, dear,” says his mother. “All that running around for money that you don’t need… you need to relax and learn how to rest.”
“I do rest, Mother. What do you think I’m doing here?”
She scoffs in response and sips more wine.
“So, Uzezi. How are your children? Did you bring them with you to Uyo?” Pamela asks with a sweet smile to hide her venom.
The unexpected question catches me off-guard, making me drop my cutlery on my plate of food and it lands with a loud clatter. Marilyn lowers her glass of wine and turns to look at Pamela who is sitting beside her, with a questioning gaze. Obong on the other hand appears to be frozen in place on his seat. As for Dominic, I can’t tell what his reaction is, because he’s sitting beside me, and my eyes are pinned on Pamela.
“What do you mean by children?” Asks Marilyn. “Whose children?”
“Oh, wait. Dominic didn’t tell you?” Pamela asks with feigned innocence. “OMG! I’m so sorry. I thought you all are already aware of the facts. Sorry for jumping the gun.”
Marilyn swings her gaze to her son. “What is Pamela talking about?”
“I was going to inform you two when we were done with lunch, but I guess Pamela already beat me to it,” Dominic explains reasonably. “Uzezi here has two daughters from a previous relationship.”
Marilyn’s eyes enlarge with surprise when they swing in my direction. “You have children?”
The way she asks the question is like someone asking you, “You have herpes?” Why is she making it sound like it’s a terrible thing to have children?
“Yes, ma’am, I have children. They’re eight years old.”
“What? Eight years? How old are you?” She asks incredulously, while Pamela chuckles as she is clearly enjoying this awkward scene that she has created.
“Mother, please. Let’s not be dramatic here,” Dominic speaks up before I can respond to her question. “Yes, she has children, so what? Why is that such a big deal? Why is everyone acting as if she said she has a pet dragon at home?”
“Don’t you dare chastise me, Dominic,” she retorts. “What are you doing with a woman who already has grown children? Or is this just a fling or an affair or what? Because this can’t be a serious relationship.”
“Now, Marilyn…” Obong starts to say.
“Don’t stop me, Obong. Let me speak,” she cuts him off. “I hope this relationship ends the moment you stand up from this table and step out of this house because this is as far as it will get.”
“Excuse me?” Says Dominic through clenched teeth. “Am I a teenager that you will choose who I can befriend or not befriend? This is preposterous and disrespectful to Uzezi!”
“Do not raise your voice at me,” Marilyn warns her son. “I can’t believe the nerve you have, bringing her here and expecting us to welcome her with open arms. Is there a shortage of young models or actresses or daughters of respectable politicians? What made you think that getting romantically involved with an older woman who has grown children, is a good idea?”
“First of all, Uzezi is right here, so please stop talking about her as if she’s invincible or not present. Second, she is not an older woman as you put it. For your information, I am only four years younger than her, so it’s not like she’s in her sixties like you and Father.”
Marilyn gasps in shock at his reference to her age.
“And finally,” Dominic continues, ignoring his mother’s reaction to his previous statement. “Her children are not grown. They are not even teenagers yet, just little eight-year-old girls.”
“I think we all need to take a breather, ok?” Obong suggests tentatively.
“Did you hear what he just said, Obong?” Marilyn asks in apparent disbelief. “She is ‘only’ four years older than him. Only four years older!”
“You make it sound as if she’s Methuselah. Why are you so hung up on her age? What about her personality? Aren’t you even curious to get to know her?” Dominic questions her angrily.
“I am going to assume that you are under a spell because this cannot be my son, my well-bred son, Dominic, that is speaking to me in this manner,” says Marilyn. Her voice has lowered to a stage whisper, but I can tell that she’s mad as hell right now and it makes me feel terrible. I shouldn’t have agreed to come here with Dominic.
“I should go…” I say in a small voice and begin to rise to my feet.
“Yes, you should,” says Pamela, saucily.
“Stay out of this,” Dominic tells her with a hard gaze. To me, he says, “I’m sorry about this. We shouldn’t have come here.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Marilyn glowers at him. “You should have come here, not her.”
Dominic and I rise to our feet, ready to exit this luncheon that has morphed into the most humiliating experience of my life. I have never been so mortified!
“If Uzezi is not welcome here, then it means that I am not welcome here because she is with me,” declares Dominic, then he takes my hand in his and leads me away from the table.
“Are you indeed leaving?” Obong asks in obvious disappointment. “Come on, son. You know your mother only means well for you. It’s nothing personal.”
“So, you’re leaving because of her?” Marilyn asks through narrowed eyes.
“No, I’m leaving because of you and your prejudiced point of view. You didn’t even try to get to know Uzezi, instead, you spent the last couple of minutes hurling insult after insult at her. You didn’t raise me to be a rude classist, so you can imagine my disappointment to know that that’s exactly who you are. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.”
I am too stunned to utter a word, so I simply follow Dominic quietly as he leads the way back into the house and out through the front door.