Too Little, Too Late

42

Salama opened the door and laughed at the expression on her friend's face. Falilat, who was breathing heavily, waved a hand and stepped into the Abdulaziz home.

"My dear!" She told Salama between breaths. "I don dey old o. Common from my house here, see how I'm breathing. Olorun mi o."

Salama ensured no one else was outside before closing the door and following Falilat. "Well done, my dear."

"Thank you o."

"Where's Al-Amin?"

"Oh, he got called into work so he had to go." Falilat peeped into the main living room. "They also called Muhsin, abi?"

"Yep."

"Hian, where are these girls?"

Salama, looking so much like her daughter, did not stop smiling. "They're in the second living room. You know they prefer that one."

Falilat straightened and walked on. "That's true. That Ibty sef! I will kill her. I told her to wait for me. Yeye girl."

Salama could only shake her head, her smile fond. They reached the second living room in no time and Salama watched, laughing alongside Ayra, as Falilat and Ibtihaj ran around like cat and rat until Falilat was able to slap Ibtihaj's back before turning to Ayra and being dramatic about not having seen her in a while.

Ayra laughed, her head thrown back as Falilat held her. "We saw each other before you and Uncle Al-Amin travelled."

"Ehen? Weeks have passed since then so it's the same as me not seeing you in a while."

Ayra laughed again, nodding. "I understand, Aunt Falilat. I missed you." She hugged the other woman. "I missed you a lot."

"I have missed you a lot too, my dear. Abeg tell Ibty to do and bring this so called Adil home. I want to be sure that this man is not fictional."

Ibtihaj stared at her mother in disbelief. "Mummy, I swear to God –"

Falilat waved her daughter away, causing Ayra and Salama to laugh again. "Tah, commot there!"

Ibtihaj pursed her lips. "It's not your fault, Mummy. It's not your fault at all."

Five minutes later, they were seated on two sofas; Salama and Falilat on a loveseat and Ibtihaj and Ayra on the three seater. On the coffee table, a jug of cold orange juice sat on a tray and they each held a cup, some fuller than the others.

"So," Salama asked her daughter. "Do you now want to say why you're here this early?"

Ayra smiled, her eyes alight with playfulness. "I thought you said I'm always welcome here, Ummi."

"I did, but first thing on a Monday morning?" Salama cocked her head, just as playfully. "Come on, Leilani. There's definitely more to it."

Ayra's laugh was beautiful. She nodded. "You're right, there's more to it and I'll get to it shortly." She sighed. "I wish Baba and Uncle Al-Amin were here though."

"We're going to definitely pass on the message to them." Falilat said before Salama could. She then leaned forward, her curiosity as clear as day. "Is it baby news?"

Ayra – although her heart shattered – acted as though she'd heard the most absurd thing. "Aunt Falilat, no! It's not baby news."

Falilat nodded, leaning back in her seat. "I said let me ask o so that suspense will not kill me. Don't mind me, my dear."

Ibtihaj spoke playfully. "Na there dem dey find you."

Falilat glared. "Ibty, it's swear I will –"