Best of Both Worlds

Chapter Twenty

We had arrived at the apartment five minutes ago and my mother hadn't since spoken a word. My mother stood leaning against my bedroom wall, her eyes reading the invisible writing on the floor. Whilst I sat on the end of my mattress, fidgeting with my fingers. Nicholas remained in the living room to give us the privacy we needed to discuss.

Except for my pounding heart, the room was drop-pin silent. I knew this pregnancy would shock my mother but I half expected her to start yelling at me, the moment we got into my room. Her prolonged silence imposed more fear on me than I thought it would. I had no idea what to say but it felt like I had to be the one to instigate the conversation.

"M-mummy?" I began, shifting in my seat as I raised my eyes to her.

"Heuw!" she exclaimed with a loud clap of her hands and folded her arms across her chest.

Jesus. At the sudden smack of her hands together, I flinched backwards and placed a hand over my chest. I lifted my eyes back to her and she was staring right through me. My heart skipped a beat and I lowered my eyes to my protruding stomach. Please, just say something.

She drew in a long breath and released it sharply then pushed herself off the wall. "You are pregnant, abi?"

I nodded. My head still bowed down, afraid to meet her gaze.

"Chineke mme'm ebele!" she exclaimed as she clapped her hands together in disbelief. (God, have mercy on me)

I managed to raise my eyes to her. She had her fingers locked in prayer form over her bosom as she looked up to the ceiling. She released another sharp breath and returned her gaze to me.

"How many months?"

I swallowed, despite the burning lump in my throat. "S... seven months"

"Jesus Christ! You're seven months gone?" she placed her hands on her knees, bending forward so we were at eye level.

I leaned back and nodded.

"Ah!" her mouth fell open as she stared at me, her eyes wide with shock. "Chimamanda, you mean to tell me that you're seven months pregnant, and you hid it from everybody?"

I bit back my lower lip as a drop of tear fell from my eye. "I'm sorry"

She shook her head at me, disappointment boldly written over her face. "That's bad. I can't believe you," she straightened up and snapped her fingers in utter disbelief and folded her arms across her chest. "Hei, Chimamanda Grace Rowland, so you have the heart to carry a pregnancy up till the seventh month, and not say a word to your family?"

A body-wracking sob escaped my lips and tears fell from my eyes with no resistance. "I'm so... I'm so sorry,"

"If someone had told me, that my daughter would hide a pregnancy from me, I would've insulted that person," she said to herself, then stretched a hand towards me. "I stand corrected today"

I placed a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my sobs. I shook my head as I drew in a laboured breath. I was so afraid of disappointing my parents with my pregnancy that at the end of the day, I caused my mother to lose every trust and faith she had in me.

"Okay, what was your plan? Give birth, then tell us? Or were you not even going to tell us, at all? Eh?" she stood erect, hands akimbo.

I dropped the hand over my mouth unto my lap as I shook my head. "I was going to tell everyone, I swear. I was just afraid of disappointing you and daddy," I wiped my cheeks clean for a fresh batch of tears to roll past them. "I'm sor-ry"

"You were afraid?" she repeated to herself. "I don't understand, were we going to beat you over the phone?" she hit the back of her right hand with her left palm. "You didn't want to disappoint us? And do you think by prolonging the reveal, it would become less disappointing?"