RIGHT ON TIME

chapter 17

DESTINY ESTATE, PORT HARCOURT, RIVERS STATE. 

The state of being a blind young adult was something people hardly considered. 

People generally assumed blind people were either really young children or middle-agers. Did people think blindness was like a psychiatric disease with lucid intervals from ages twelve or so to forty and thereabout? Ayanate pondered on this as she prepared breakfast for herself and her mother. 

She had just placed a warm mug of chocolate drink beside a plate containing four slices of bread and another ceramic bowl with perfectly-made scrambled eggs on the dining table when she heard her mother's regal heels clopping on the tiles as she approached the dining room. 

Ayanate had always considered the dining room unreasonably large for their small family. It had an elliptical, glazed mahogany table covered with a cream and brown lace tablecloth that had an intricate embroidery design. There was a low flower vase placed strategically at the center. Beautifully designed table mats lay on the table. Eight upholstered high-back chairs surrounded the table. 

It wasn't like they entertained guests often, so what was the waste for? 

Her mother always felt she had an unorthodox thought pattern. Ayanate decided not to add this thought to the list of evidence that corroborated that fact. There would be no mention from her of the wastage of space and money that this dinning represented.   

Her reverie was cut short when she heard a sound proceeding from her mother's mouth who had already taken a seat at the table. 

Now, moans of satisfaction might be normal in other homes, but it was strange to Ayanate because her mom was the queen of ice, not in a Wicked-Witch-of-the-West way, but in a high-power-shark-lawyer sort of way. Ayanate was wise enough not to admit this to anyone but her hyperactive inner self. 

Going by this, a moan of pleasure at food is normally a sign that her mother was super excited about something. Ayanate's guess didn't miss a beat coming. She could bet all her savings on the fact that this excitement was work-related. 

Before she could ride her train of thought further, her mother spoke through her bread-filled mouth. Another absurdity.

"How is school, Ayanate?" 

"As fine as it can be," Ayanate replied with a shrug, standing opposite her mother. 

Righteous continued speaking without looking up from her phone. She was scrolling through the news feed for the day. It had become her habit to multitask—eat and read—every morning before heading for work. 

"I'll probably graduate as the best student if they take those law-related courses off our mandatory list in this academic session." Ayanate intentionally made that remark to spite her mother. Somehow, her mother had been sending signals that she wanted her daughter to take up her career baton and continue the legislative legacy she had already established.  Ayanate, having a mind of her own, had other plans. 

Righteous raised her head to roll her eyes at Ayanate, although she knew her daughter would not see her. She was, however, stopped in her tracks by what she saw.

"Have you been invited to a festival I am not aware of?" Righteous asked, her brows scrunched in alarm. 

Her daughter was dressed in the most unimaginable and incompatible off-color skirt and blouse ever known to mankind. Even her flip-flops were also a mismatch.

Ayanate, in her mother's bewildered eyes, looked like an old village witch that hadn't slept all night. The only difference was that there were no bags under her eyes, no sign of fatigue that could prove that she had been flying at night in a witches' coven instead of sleeping in her bed.