The Perfection in Love - Part One

Chapter 9 - Let's Hope It Doesn't Come to That

Oro agba bi o se laro, bope titi a se lojo ale.

Mrs. Irene Johnson brushed her teeth furiously, holding the sink with her unengaged hand with just as much fury.

She could not believe that what she had feared from the get-go was actually happening. On the other hand, she could believe it. But that was the problem, wasn't it?

She had told Oyin, told Dele, told Baby K. But no one listened. They thought she was being paranoid. Even called her closed-minded and racist. But she knew. She knew. She just knew.

This was what she had been telling them: the cultures were just too different. There would be a lot of misunderstandings. Who knows how many times Oyin had run to her room crying?

That Henry boy thought he had everyone fooled. She had almost fallen for his act. Almost.

This was exactly what Ore, her friend, had been talking about. And Ore would know. Her nephew had been married to a white woman, and of course, they were separated now.

Irene huffed. She would make it a point to call Ore tomorrow to find out how they were faring.

"Irene, take it easy in there. I can hear the sink groaning o!" Dele shouted from the bedroom.

Irene hissed as she rinsed the toothpaste out of her toothbrush. She was in no mood tonight for Dele's jokes.

She needed to find out what was going on and how she could fix it.

Dele chuckled as he saw her walk out of the bathroom. "Why are you frowning now?"

Irene narrowed her eyes at him and got into her side of the bed.

"So you are not going to talk to me?" Dele asked, switching their conservation to Yoruba.

Irene sighed. "Dele. I'm not in the mood. Leave me alone." She responded in Yoruba.

Dele looked at her, the amusement fading from his features. "What happened?"

"Oyinkan was crying earlier this evening."

Dele sat up abruptly. "What? Do you know what happened?"

"No, she won't tell me. But I know it is Henry, Dele. I just know."

"Don't say that. You don't know for sure. It could be anything."

Irene rolled her eyes. "You've come again. Why else would she be crying?"

Dele sighed. "I don't know, Irene. But don't go jumping to conclusions."

"When I was telling everybody in the beginning, I was being closed-minded. Now see."

Dele lay back down on the bed. "Irene, I've said my own. Don't destroy your daughter's marriage with your own hands."

He faced the other side and left Irene to her thoughts.

Could she really be jumping to conclusions?

Irene settled into bed. No, she was not jumping to conclusions.

***

The next morning, Irene was no closer to figuring out what was going on. It was driving her crazy. She spent all morning deep cleaning the kitchen, because chores helped her think, but she still didn't know. She didn't think that Henry was beating Oyin. But what could he have done that would have made Oyin cry? Oyin was not one to shed tears easily. In fact, even when she had been spanked as a child, she would scream and scream, but actual tears were few and far between.

Irene huffed. She was going to get to the bottom of this. Even if it meant Oyin leaving Phoenix with her and Dele.

What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.

The rebuke came—as clear as day.

"Well, Lord. Hopefully it doesn't come to that stage."

By noon, every surface in the kitchen gleamed. Irene threw the last wad of paper towels in the trash and heaved a sigh as she looked around. If only real life could be as easily cleaned up.

She made a mental note to tell Oyinkan that their house-help did not need to come clean anymore.

Just then, Dele walked into the kitchen area, whistling.

"Irie-Irie." He greeted.

Irene just gave him a tired half-smile, slumped into the nearest stool, and laid her head on the kitchen island.

"What's wrong?" Dele asked, taking the stool closest to her.

"I'm just worried about Oyinkan."

Dele sighed and rubbed his hand on Irene's back soothingly. "I know. But I think you are making a mountain out of a molehill. Whatever it is, I'm sure they will work it out."

Irene frowned. "But you didn't see her, Dele! Her eyes were so red and immediately I left the room, she started sobbing. Oyinkan does not cry!"

Dele's face mirrored hers, and he gave a small sigh. "I know a little about Henry. And from what I've seen, I don't think he would intentionally hurt her. Who knows, maybe Oyin is just on her period."

He tried to chuckle, but it came out more like a grimace.

Irene shook her head, as if to ward off the tears that were gathering in her eyes. "I'm just scared, Dele. We have been hearing all these stories. Remember Bisi, my friend from U.I? She was just telling me that her daughter is living separately from her husband, after repeated abuse. And those ones are both Yoruba! What if that happens to Oyin, too? How would we know? How would we be able to intervene? All the way from Nigeria!"

Dele shook his head. "That won't happen to her. We prayed. Oyin prayed. And we asked God to take control. We have to trust that He would take control."

Irene nodded. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't trust God to take control, per se. This was just too close to her heart. Oyin was her only living biological child—the only proof that she wasn't a fruitless, barren woman. She couldn't take the chance that God may deem it fit to take Oyin too.

A shudder passed through Irene's body at the thought of that.

"Maybe we should talk to them." Dele proffered.

Irene looked up. Yes. Maybe that could work. "Yes. We can just talk to them and tell them what we are seeing."

"We don't even have to say anything specific. Just frame it like we are giving them advice before we leave."

Irene smiled at her husband.

Yes. This would work.

"Thank you Dele."

He smiled at her, his dimple popping out. "Oyin is our daughter, Irene. Everything will be alright."

EndNotes

Oro agba bi o se laro, bope titi a se lojo ale - The words of the old and wise always ring true, no matter how long it takes

The word hiss here is a sound made mostly by Nigerians that expresses disapproval or derision. While the interpretation of the sound is the same as the regular English word, hiss, the actual sounds are different. The Nigerian hiss sounds more like a "mtchewww" or "mmscheww." See https://bit.ly/2L4PTWP