“Here we are, this is my place.” Damilare announced as he opened the door to his apartment.
Kaima walked in.
Damilare followed, quickly locking the door behind them and turned on the light switch.
Kaima did a quick mental assesment of his apartment. It was small, she thought, but very neat. There was a single bed that could accommodate two people, he had a kitchen which she couldn’t see but was aware because a tag with the word ‘kitchen’ written in black nested on a green door. There was also a small closet which she was sure contained his clothes.
Damilare stepped in front of her knowing what she was doing, he put a hand in front of her and began to move it open and down wanting her to follow the movement of his hand in order to distract her. Kaima’s eyes didn’t follow his hand instead they moved in the opposite direction still taking stock of what was present in his apartment.
“Dre why are you living here?” Kaima asked, concern dripping from her voice.
Damilare cocked his mouth to one side, and then edged closer to his neat bed. He sat down slowly, his hands on his thighs rubbing them in order to relieve himself of the nervous energy that was creeping in.
Kaima came over and sat beside him. She dropped her hand bag to one side of the bed and reached out to touch Damilare’s hand.
Damilare seemed to be trying to find the words to say, where to start, how to explain why he was living in such an apartment when he had well a fairly great job.
“Kay, there is a reason why I’m living in a place like this.” Damilare began his explanation.
“I know there is, and I would love to hear it.” Kaima replied, rubbing his hand.
“See that’s the thing Kay, I am not ready to share it just yet.”
Kaima shot him a stare filled with unanswered questions.
Silence reigned for some minutes.
“Why?” Kaima said, voicing her confusion.
“Why what?” Damilare asked. Urging Kaima to be more specific.
“Why don’t you want to tell me why you are living here?” Kaima asked again.
“I’ve been saving up for a new place, Kaima. it’s just you know…..” Damilare’s voice trailed off.
“Know what?” Kaima asked, urging him to go on with his explanation.
Damilare started to get uncomfortable with the third degree questioning. But it was Kaima and so he proceeded with answering her question.
“I have people I take care of Kay. Family. I’m not ready to talk about it, please Kay, when the time is right, I’ll share it with you I promise.” Damilare took her hands and squeezed them lovingly as he looked into her almond eyes.
Kaima sighed as she bobbed her head.
“I’m starving; let me make us something to eat.” Damilare finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had descended between them.
“Sure!” Kaima answered suggestively, as she switched her position from the bed to Damilare’s laps.
“Don’t distract me Kay.” Damilare said half heartedly before kissing her on the lips.
Kaima reluctantly untangled from Damilare embrace, stood up and walked over to his closet where she retrieved a blue round neck shirt and a black boxer.
She sashayed back towards Damilare and asked.
Damilare pointed to a door with the inscription ‘bathroom’ inked in black on a green door that was several inches away from the door tagged ‘kitchen.’
Kaima marched to the door and pulled his towel away from it.
“Give me a few minutes, I’ll be back. And don’t start cooking without me!” She warned.
“Or what?” Damilare asked in a husky voice.
“You’ll have to wait and find out.” Kaima smirked, her eyes aglow with mischief.
As soon as Kaima entered the bathroom, Damilare walked towards his closet and changed into some more comfortable clothes.
Some minutes later, Kaima stepped out of the bathroom wearing Damilare’s blue shirt and black boxer. On the blue round neck shirt, there was a bold inscription written in white ‘I’m a chef.’
“Hmm, I see.” Damilare sighed looking thoughtful, as Kaima rubbed the nape of her neck with his towel.
“You see what?” Kaima asked.
“I thought you said you were a financial analyst?” Damilare asked mockingly as he stood up and walked towards her.
Kaima looked down at the shirt and began to laugh when she noticed what was written on it.
She walked into Damilare as they locked into a warm embrace.
“I’m a financial analyst who is in love with a chef.”
“So what’s for dinner?” Kaima asked.
“You tell me.” Damilare replied smiling.
“Alright before we decide to even cook anything, I want to introduce you to some of my friends.” Damilare announced.
Kaima looked very surprised.
“Really?” Kaima asked, looking puzzled.
He opened his kitchen cabinet and retrieved some kitchen utensils. He put a pot on the gas and said to Kaima;
“This is Joe.” Damilare said.
“Hi Joe.” Kaima said to the pot.
“Joe is my favourite cooking pot, I like him a lot.” Damilare added.
He peered into the cabinet again and said;
“This is Pam.” Pointing to a frying pan.
Kaima offered the frying pan a curt nod.
“Pam as in Pamela?” She asked.
“No, Pam as in Pam.” Damilare replied.
“Okay.” Kaima said still giggling.
“I am glad that you find this amusing.” Damilare said smiling and continued to explain.
“I’m home alone most of the time, so I talk to my kitchen utensils when I get bored. They offer me good company.” He added.
Kaima roared with laughter.
Damilare continued with the introduction, glad to see that she was responding well to the weirdness.
After making all the introductions, he prepared a simple dish of local rice, tomato sauce and fried fish.
……to be continued.
Genre: Nigerian Romance/ Fiction