The Marrying of ZIM

26. The Wedding.

Something didn't feel right about the day, I had an impending gut feeling warning me that something would go wrong.

"It's just pre-wedding jitters." Mama Ekuban said to me.

She had brewed marijuana tea for me and I was sipping it slowly trying to figure out what exactly could be wrong. Kwashie and I sorted things out so it wouldn't be awkward at the wedding. I haven't seen her since last week, her mom said it was tradition that we stay apart from each other until the wedding day.

"I'm glad you two could work through your differences," She said to me.

"Me too," I continued sipping on my tea staring into the mirror at my reflection.

I was in the booked room in the hotel that was close to the beach, I slept here last night unknowing that Kwashie was also in the same hotel just on a different floor. I knew the plans, after the reception we'd be driving away to a different hotel for the night of consummating the wedding and then we'd be leaving for our honeymoon at her hometown in Ghana.

"The makeup artist should be here soon, the hairdresser as well and the tailor, Mr Saveti, should be here with your suit." Mama Ekuban came back into my room pushing a cart.

"Room service," she laughed when she saw the questioning look on my face.

I moved from the spot on the couch and we both sat outside on the balcony for breakfast. She spoke about the last time she was in Ghana and how hard it was for them to get by. Since she left 10 years ago, she hasn't went back. Kwashie and I texted for a bit laughing at the fact that we agreed to a beach wedding and wouldn't be wearing beachwear.

"Come on Zidania, go take a shower so that the masseuse can get to work." Mama Ekuban cleaned up the table and rested them all back on the cart.

I took up my robe and went to the bathroom to take a long hot shower. Mama Ekuban had lavender stalks and peppermint leaves scattered over the shower floor and it actually worked just as she said it would. I wrapped my self in the robe and walked out to the waiting masseuse who had a broad smile on her face with her hands behind her back.

"Hello beautiful," I smiled at her.

"Well aren't you just a sweet talker," she blushed.

"I can be more than that," I winked.

"I'm sure your fiancé wouldn't like to know that you are flirting with the masseuse," she said.

"I don't think my fiancé would mind, you're stunning." I wasn't lying. She was beautiful and her feminine African accent caught me the moment she said her first words.

"Thank you for the kind words but let's get started."

Without shame, I dropped the robe from my shoulders and walked up to the table using the makeshift step to get onto it.

"How do you want me?" I asked with a mischievous gleam in my eyes.

"On your back first please, you are supposed to be getting a full wax."

My back had almost touched the table when I shot back up jumping off the table and grabbing my robe.

"No..." my voice was stern.

"It was already paid for.."

"I don't care. No."

"Okay, we can skip that that. Please, come and lie down... on your stomach." She waved at the table.

I sighed and dropped the robe once more moving back to the table. I laid on my stomach feeling the breeze blow in from the open balcony doors softly brushing against the hairs on my skin.