Jeremy's pov
Getting off the plane I took a breath of fresh air of Ibadan. It smelled like home looking around with my luggage in my hand. My eyes land on a curvaceous woman as she practically ran towards me.
"Nne, atufuru m gi." I say as I hug her kissing her cheek. Her yellow and blue head scarf covering her dreads as she had a blue sundress with yellow details. " Achọkwara m gị. Nwa m nwoke dị oke ọnụ ahịa." Mom replied as we started walking towards her car. (Mom, I missed you. I missed you too. My precious boy)
Reaching her car I put my luggage in the truck before we drive to her house. "Kedu ka ị mere? Ihe niile dị mma na ụlọ ọgwụ?" Mom asked as she smiled at me. "Ihe niile dị mma. Mana enwere m ihe m ga-agwa gị." I hum as Mom looks skeptical. (How are you? Is everything okay at the clinic? Everything is fine. I have to tell you something.)
Reaching her house I smile at the familiar brick and yellow columns. "Você encontrou alguém?" Mom asked excitedly as we got out. "Sim. Por que você está falando em português?" I asked. "Você sabe que essas paredes podem falar." Mom whispered as she chuckled. (Did you find someone? Yes. Why are you talking in Portuguese? You know these walls can talk.)
Grabbing luggage I go to my room to begin to unpack. Hearing my phone ring, I smile as I see Homer's name. "Ndewo Homer." I smirk. "So sexy. Did you get there safely Remy." Homer grunted his voice deeper and rougher than usual. "Yes I got here safely. Why do you sound like that?" I asked him as I put my clothes in the drawer. (Hello)
"In case you forgot, in Pennsylvania it is early morning and I wanted to talk to you. I even set a alarm for you." Homer grunted as he yawned. "Well, I'll let you go. Get some sleep." I say. "Okay talk to you later baby." Homer yawned before he hung up.
"Это был ваш человек по телефону?" Mom smirked from the doorway making me jump in fright. "Иисус! Предупредите кого-нибудь, когда в следующий раз будете подслушивать." I shout as I grab my chest. (Was that your man on the phone? Jesus! Warn somebody next time eavesdropping)
Walking into my room, Mom sat beside me with a serious look on her face. "Is he treating you right?" She asked as she clenched her fists. When I had told her about him when I was the service, Mom almost made me leave America and come back to Ibadan. I understand where her worries come from which is why she randomingly visit me each year.
Turning to her I smile feeling my eyes start to water. "He takes care of me Mom. Like really takes care of me. He doesn't force me to tell him about my past. He doesn't force me to do anything. He helps me with my anxiety." I sniffle as I think about Homer.
"What's his name?"
"Homer Watson. He's a prominent lawyer back in Pennsylvania, has his own firm and everything. You remember Georgia, the lady I brought with me last time." I ask her. "Yeah. I thought it was amazing that she appointed you as the Godfather of her child." Mom said smiling fondly. "Homer is her brother. He's a grade A asshole. But I kind of like that about him. He frowns half the time. He answers his phone like he doesn't want to be bothered. He glares at random people. But Homer is good to me. He eases my worries and anxieties. He tells me I'm not superman when I feel like a failure at the clinic. He's great." I smile twiddling with my fingers.
"I would like to meet him. He seems good for you. But I just want to make sure my baby is alright." Mom said to me. "Mom I'm not a baby. I'm forty eight years old." I groan. "You'll always be my baby. My precious boy. I don't care if you're sixty, your my son."Mom said smirking at me her brown eyes shining with mischief.
"Anyway. How have you been? How is your multiple sclerosis?" I asked her. About ten years ago, my mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. A disease that causes the immune system to eat at the protective covering of the nerves. Unfortunately there is no cure for it.
"I have good and bad days. Some days I can drive with no problem, maintain the house, even garden some. But then some days I can't seem to get my legs to cooperate with me. Sometimes I have to have my aid help me because I'm in so much pain. But I thank God because I'm not dead yet." Mom smiled lightly as I frowned slightly.
"Do I need to move here to be with you Mom? Be honest with me." I asked worried. "Don't be so worried. I don't want you to pick up your life in the states to come here." Mom said as I glared at her. "Ị bụ nne m. N'ezie enwere m nchegbu." I say huffing as I look at her. (You're my mom. Of course I'm worried.)
"I understand you're worry. But I'll be okay. I'm still fighting this. If it get so bad, I will move closer to you." Mom explained patting my knee. "Your my nne and I love you." I say hugging her, resting my head on her shoulder. (Mom)
"I love you too. But enough with the sad talk, come help me make dinner. It's ogbono soup your favorite." Mom said to me as we exited the room. Going down to the kitchen I helped Mom make dinner. Trying to avoid thinking about her health. I just wanted to focus on the here and now.
YOU ARE READING
Home Is With You
RandomFifty year old Homer Watson is a distinguished lawyer in the booming city of San Francisco, California. Divorced from his wife of a decade, he finds himself drowning in his workload with a empty feeling inside. His nephew decides to take him to a n...
