Clutching Hope

Chapter 13

Unedited

Later that day, I'd just got out of a changing room at Lc Waitkiki store and came face to face with Miriam. She squinted at me before trying for a fake smile. I managed to keep my face impassive.

I returned her strained smile and made to pass by to continue with my shopping. I didn't owe her more than that.

We'd come to Karen enroute to our planned Westgate destination when Sion had suggested he visit a jewelry store that he wanted to visit and chat with the manager. He'd left me with his credit card despite my refusal and urged me to buy something. I still didn't know I'd buy anything or not. But I could try on a few things.

Plucking another top from one of the racks-with the staring I could feel on my back-I smiled at another woman on the opposite side of the cloth rack as her daughter spun in circles nearby.

Laden with more things to try out, I found Miriam still loitering near the changing rooms, no clothes in sight. She gave me an up and down screen and sneered before flouncing off.

I knew what ailed her but I didn't want to give her the antidote by engaging in little secondary school catfights. Like our wise ancestors said, 'kisicho kuhusu usijiusishe, ukijiusisha kitakuhusu'

'don't mind what isn't your business, or else it will become your bussiness / Don't concern yourself with what doesn't concern you or else it will concern you.'

Once I was done, I went to the counter to pay to find only two counters were open and only one occupied. Miriam was there with no clothes to purchase and chatting away with the girl at the counter. Their inane chatter was annoying since I was the customer and not the person buying nothing. I cocked my head to the side.

The girl flicked her eyes at me, face full of attitude.

Brows raised, I stared at her. If she owned the bussiness and had this attitude she'd be losing customers. As an employee, if her boss didn't know of her behaviour which could be affecting customer flow, then they were leaving their investment in the wrong hands. Yet another reason why this snobby side of town was unapetising.

Miriam looked to the left by the door as the glass doors slid open and her annoying fake voice called out, "Sion, long time."

Ugh.

I placed my clothes on the counter and the girl went about removing the store tags and rang them through.
I paid and took the bag from attitude face and walked towards my boyfriend who stood stoic as Miriam and her leggy near six foot self tried to drape over him like an ivy. He had company. A sturdy build looking guy, maybe Nigerian by his looks. He wasn't at the housewarming. Sion looked to me and got an eyeroll.

He removed Miriam's hands from around his shoulders and walked to meet me.

"Hi, Ike," Miriam called as Sion reached me and pecked my lips. I quietly sucked my teeth at her antics. But then my mind changed tack as I tried to place the name Ike. The guy who helped Sion with some of the paintings import he'd met during his South African intern period.

Ike was habdsome. Full faced well groomed beard, features full lips and proportional nose that fit his bright eyes and angular jaw. He was bit wide shouldered than Sion and but shorter. He wore a blue polo shirt and jeans paired with loafers that West african men seemed to pefer. And I guess a sign of wealth. His right hand pinkie finger ring glinted.

In her white jeans, yellow top and black jacket, long ponytail cornrowed braids, Miriam was beautiful but she didn't know what she wanted. She glanced over her shoulder at us, her sneer barely masked and a part of me felt sad. Sad to see her feel the need to cling to anything male as if that's where she'd find love or affection or whatever it is she was looking for or lacked.