I haven't given up on this work yet, or proofread this chapter either.
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Adunni opened her eyes slowly. She did not want to wake up, but the aroma of the meal tingled her senses and awoke both her and her nostalgia. It smelled so Nigerian. It smelled so Nig—she jumped out of the bed the fastest way a five-month pregnant woman would.
Why should anything smell so Nigerian around here? She thought as she carefully fitted her swollen feet into her slippers. Isaac could cook, but nothing Nigerian. Or was her mother around? Her heart raced.
Four months at Isaac's she had cut off all connections with her parents and the fact that they didn't go to the extreme to get in contact with her just made the idea of her being a failure as a daughter, sink in. Sometimes she'd want to speak with a mother figure the way her pregnant aunties spoke with her experienced mother while they were in Nigeria; to ask what to eat, drink and what not to, Why excess pineapple was not good for pregnant women, but now, she just googled what ever questions or symptoms she had. Isaac's mother was an option she wasn't willing to take.
Adunni had slept for so long that the pink and grey skies felt like early morning. She dragged her heavy legs till she got to the kitchen.
"Babe, you're up!" Isaac beat the spoon against the edge of the pot twice to let back the content that slurped around the spoon back into the pot. He dropped the spoon on the counter and walked over to where Adunni stood.
He wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on her head. He remained in the position like there wasn't a pot of soup on Fire that he needed to bother about, and she just enjoyed every bit of the way his perspiration and cologne mixed together, smelled.
"What are you preparing?" She asked. Her voice was croaky with sleep.
"Vegetable soup."
She broke into laughter, slapping his chest twice.
"What? What's so funny?" He asked. Obviously, he was offended, but he smiled as he asked the question like he did not know he was being mocked.
"You? Vegetable soup?" She burst back into laughter.
Frowning, Isaac turned her around to the door, guiding her by the shoulders, he showed her the way to the kitchen door. "You may leave my kitchen and cooking skills."
She didn't stop laughing, but she left the kitchen and returned to bed. She definitely could not return back to sleep, so she sat up in the bed with her back against the wall and rubbed her palms gently against the wall of her stomach. She squeezed her face and grunted at the slight movement of the foetus.
"You are not a mistake," She said calmly to it like she was sure it would hear her. "And I did not create you by mistake," she paused when she groaned from a little stomach pain, laughed and said, "I agree, too, that was a joke. Your father is really bad at withdrawing."
A couple of minutes into speaking to her foetus, Isaac walked in and caught her. He smacked his head, "You can't possibly be talking to the baby. It's unborn."
Isaac sat comfortably into the bed, and they both adjusted to a position where Isaac was the one who sat up with his back against the wall and Adunni's head rested against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her until it reached, and he could rub the baby bump.
"Why do you believe it can hear you?" He asked.
She pretended not to have heard his question when she asked, "Are you done preparing the soup."
"Yes, babe, you and the apartment won't burn down."
There's silence as they cuddle. Warm arm wraps and kisses.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Isaac quickly shuffled out of bed, a bit nervous. Adunni held his hand.
"Baby, are you expecting any guests?" She asked.
"No, no, no", he replied nervously sliding his wet Palm out of hers. He walked out of the room, into the living room, and opened the door.
"Isaac!" His mother gasped. "I don't understand why you two are ignoring our calls." She pushed him aside and made her way into the living room. Isaac hugged his father and they patted each other on the back.
"Hi, dad."
"Where is Adunni? " His mother turned around to ask.
Adunni walked into the living room. Her face was down as she scratched her head and began questioning from the corridor, "Who is there, Isaac?"
She yawned when she finally looked up and saw both of his parents. "Damn!" She muttered to herself.
"Adunni!" Isaac's mother opened her arms for a warm embrace. They hugged briefly.
"Good evening ma, sir," Adunni's cheeks froze with her fake smile. It was so obvious. Isaac scratched his elbow. "Isaac, can I see you, in the kitchen, for a minute? " Adunni asked still grinning.
Isaac nodded, nervously smiling, too. He followed behind her until they entered the kitchen when he immediately protected his cheeks with both hands to avoid slaps.
"It's a kitchen, Isaac, I will rather stab you. Why didn't you tell me they were coming?" She said firmly and angrily. She didn't want to shout.
He dropped his hands from his cheeks. "I didn't know how to tell you. Plus, they informed me while you were asleep. How am I supposed to turn my own parents down?"
"You should have....woken me or something. You should have done something."
"Babe, I'm really sorry." He apologized.
She stood for a few seconds, fuming, but staring him directly in the eye. He probably thought that if they stared a bit longer, she might have forgiven him until she hit him, not too rough, but pressured, in his balls with the hand.
Isaac dropped to the floor, wincing in pain holding his crotch. He held his breath to endure the pain and hold back from screaming.
"That's the bloody reason you cooked that soup. Don't lie to me." She shut the kitchen door behind her.
