3
OLANNA
NOW
T he front door swings open, and Manny’s smiling face greets me. “Hey, Trouble . ” He teases me by going for the nickname I’ve told him countless times not to call me by.
“Hey, Manny.” I push him to the side and let myself into the house, ignoring his out-stretched arms.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.” He chuckles and closes the door. “What’s the point of coming all the way here if you won’t give your brother a hug?”
I turn around and raise my brows at him. “And who says I’m here to see you?”
He feigns a gasp and wipes invisible tears away from his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s right. Now, you can get a taste of your own medicine.” I place a hand on my hip and tap my feet on the carpeted floor. “You know the drill. Go get my princess, please.” I raise the plastic bag in my hands to show him the new baby clothes I bought.
Manny lets out a sigh and runs a palm down his face. “You never listen, do you? You don’t have to buy clothes for Ayannah every week. She will outgrow them soon and then?—“
“Okay, let me stop you right there.” I raise my palm, cutting him short. “I’m her god-mother, so I can spoil her anytime I want. I’m also building my reputation as the coolest aunt ever. Stop trying to steal my thunder and go get my niece, please.”
“ Ugh , you’re so annoying.” Manny whips his head around and takes dramatic steps toward the flight of stairs. “Heather was just giving her a bath. I’ll go get them.”
“Thank you.” I stick my tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes at me before he disappears from my view, leaving me alone in the room. Heather and Manny’s spacious three-bedroom house has been my second home since they got married two years ago.
It’s much fancier than the two bedroom apartment he was renting as a stressed bachelor and workaholic. It’s true what they say, that it’s important to marry the right person. Manny has been so much happier since he married Heather.
I place the bag of clothes on the sofa and plop down on it, the soft texture instantly taking away the tension from my muscles. Leaning back and spreading my arms across the sofa, I take a deep breath in, inhaling the delicious aroma of spaghetti bolognese hanging in the air.
One thing I can confidently say about myself is that no matter how rough my day has been, good food usually cheers me up. Heather is a great cook, so I know I won’t be leaving this house as sad as I came. Well, I hope Heather’s food works its magic because today was rough .
Unwilling to let myself go down the dark Alex black hole, I sweep my gaze around the room, focusing on different objects to keep me distracted. But the first object sabotages my mission before it even starts. It’s a beautiful framed photo of Manny and Heather on their traditional wedding day.
Even though Heather is not African, she has completely embraced our Nigerian culture, and she killed her looks as an Igbo bride. For her first outfit, she wore coral beads in her auburn hair and the colors blended so well together. The gele she wore for her second outfit was the icing on the cake that day and I’m sure their wedding was the topic of discussion for a lot of Nigerian aunties for months—as it should’ve been—because it was nothing short of beautiful.
Alex and I used to talk about marriage so much that I was sure he was going to be the one I end up with. I can’t count the number of times I imagined our Nigerian-Ghanaian wedding, the blend of colors, delicious food, glorious outfits, incredible dances, culture, tradition, and, of course, the drama that comes with it.
It seemed too good to be true that the first man I ever fell in love with would end up being my husband. But I believed it was true because God never revealed otherwise every time I prayed about it.
But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what I thought was God’s approval was really His disapproval. Maybe it really was just what it was—too good to be true.
Phoebe, Heather and Manny’s ginger cat, scurries across the living room as she chases after a ball of string. Her fascination with the object is so cute to watch and it draws a chuckle from my lips. But then the sound of approaching footsteps zaps my attention away from the cat and back to the present moment.
“Look who’s here,” Manny says as he comes into full view, holding his nine-month-old daughter in his arms.
“Hello, my love.” I stretch my arms out to Ayannah and the big smile that appears on her face at the sight of me warms my heart. She wiggles in her father’s arms and leans forward until I’m able to scoop her up in a big hug. She wraps her arms around my neck and rubs spittle on my forehead as she plays with my locs. She loves me.
“Aww, thank you so much for the clothes, Olanna.” Heather walks in wearing an oversized t-shirt over black leggings. Her auburn hair is up in a sleek bun and her bangs are almost covering her eyes. “You can see she’s returning all the love you’re pouring on her.” Heather nods to the baby, who is still playing with my hair.
“I know, right? My plan is working.” I grin at Manny, and he rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time today.
“Yes, and it’s giving rich aunty vibes.” Heather clicks her fingers and we both chuckle.
“That’s right. You’re going to be the most spoiled baby ever, aren’t you, Ayannah?” I kiss her forehead and run my hands through her soft, curly brown hair, which smells like coconut. She’s the light-skinned spitting image of Manny, but she clearly has Heather’s green eyes. Magical.
“Alright, let me try to take her to bed and then we can have dinner.” Heather stands up and takes the bag of clothes from me before pausing again. “By the way, I was on the phone with Amara and Teeyana earlier today.”
I gasp, sitting up in my chair. “Really? How are they doing?”
“They’re doing great. Amara’s bump has popped now. She says the twins are very active.”
“Aww, that’s awesome. I can’t believe Amara will be a twin mama. More kids to shower my love on.”
“I know, right.” Heather takes Ayannah from me and after another round of cuddles and kisses, she takes the baby upstairs, leaving Manny and me alone in the living room.
“So, how’s everything going at Charis?” I ask Manny as he sits next to me on the sofa. He doesn’t like talking about work at home, but it’s the only thing I can do to distract myself right now.
“It was a very busy few weeks. You should have seen Heather and I running around like headless chickens.” We both chuckle. “Our staff was brilliant, and they sacrificed so much to help with the move. But we have finally settled into our new office space and I’m excited to see where God takes us.”
“Aww, I’m so proud of you, Manny.” I squeeze his hand. “Can you imagine that two years ago, you were so afraid of taking that leap of faith? Look at how far God has brought you and Heather.”
“Yeah, I know. But you don’t have to keep reminding me about how much of a coward I was. Cut me some slack, please.”
“If I cut you some slack, would you have a reason to call me Trouble ?”
“ Aha , I knew you secretly liked that nickname.” He pushes me with his shoulder and we both laugh.
Manny and Heather have come such a long way. Dad thought Manny would be the one to take over Madu Health as the CEO. But God had other plans for him. Manny and Heather set up their own business—Charis Charity Marketing shortly after they started dating and they’ve been doing amazing work helping Christian charities in Nigeria, Africa, and all around the world.
“By the way, Heather and I are planning another trip to Nigeria in December. We’ll be meeting with Mr. Nwaeze and the team at AWC. Have you changed your mind about coming with us?”
Okay, someone give me a break, please.
“No.” The finality in my tone sends silence stretching between us. I know Manny wouldn’t press any further because he understands. He has his own way of grieving Mom’s death and he respects mine.
A Widow’s Comfort is a charity that was founded by Mom in Nigeria to support widows, single mothers, and their children. Since setting up their business, Heather and Manny have been heavily involved in running the charity and they plan yearly trips to Nigeria to catch up with the team.
“Speaking of Nigeria,” Manny breaks the silence. “I see you couldn’t change Dad’s mind about going, huh?” He turns his head to meet my gaze.
I sigh and cross my arms against my chest. “Of course I couldn’t. You know your father. I’m trying not to worry about it, though. God will take care of him, right?”
Manny nods. “Of course He will. There’s nothing to worry about.” He pauses before continuing. “Are you okay?”
And that’s all he needs to ask to have my thoughts held captive again by memories of Alex. I shake my head and open my mouth to lie because I didn’t plan to talk about this tonight. I just wanted to come over here and have dinner and Bible study, before going back home to cry myself to sleep. But the tears are saying no as they blur my vision.
Manny must have recognized the shift in my mood because, without asking, he takes my hand and leads me across the living room, past his plant sanctuary and outside to the balcony—my favorite place in this house. He urges me to sit in one of the chairs and takes the seat across from me. The chilly October air is enough to make me shiver, but Manny throws a blanket over my shoulders, so it’s bearable.
“Talk to me, Olanna. What happened? Did someone say or do something to you at work? Just give me a name and I’ll deal with them right away.” His serious, big brother, protective persona bursts forth and his jaw tenses as he balls his hands into fists.
A tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away before taking the box of tissues from Manny. “It’s October.” I sniffle and dab my face with tissue paper. “Next week will be two years since Alex broke up with me. Last year was horrible because I spent the whole day in bed looking through our messages, listening to our voice notes, and going through all the photos we took.” My bottom lip quivers and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“This year, I thought it would be different, you know? I thought I had moved on, but clearly not.” I shake my head as more tears fall. I lower my head and fidget with the tissue box in my hands because I don’t want to see the look of pity in Manny’s eyes.
“It’s been two years and the emotions are still as fresh as the day he let me walk out of his life. Why do I feel like I did something to push him away? It’s been two years and I still feel the ache in my chest—the same way I did when Mom died. If only I could see her again or hear her beautiful voice singing to me, then perhaps everything will be okay. What is wrong with me, Manny?” The sobs explode from me as I cover my face, my shoulders shaking violently and my hands trembling like someone who has had twenty cups of coffee.
“Nothing is wrong with you, sis. I miss Mom too…every day.” Manny sits on the arm of my chair and wraps his arm around me, before letting me cry on his chest. “It hurts because you’re human. God gave you the ability to feel all these emotions. It hurts because you love Mom.” He lifts my chin up so I can look at him. “It hurts because you loved Alex, too.
“Please, don’t blame yourself for what happened. Alex is a grown man and he should’ve taken responsibility for his actions. He had the opportunity to redeem himself and spare you a lot of pain, but he didn’t. I know it hurts, but you can’t control other people’s actions. So let yourself feel these emotions. But know that someday, you will meet someone much better.
“Someone who will treat you right and be your answered prayer. Let yourself feel these emotions, but know that God will heal your heart. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Go at your own pace. God will give you the peace that your heart is longing for.” Manny holds me tight and rocks me back and forth until my sobs quiet down. That’s when I hear the soft whispers from his lips and I look up to find his head bowed and his eyes closed as he silently prays for me.