It was after four before the group decided to call it a day. They had taken lunch at a local food joint and had been amused by the curious local folks who went out of their way to make them feel welcome. The owner of the food joint, a big woman in her late fifties had insisted on feeding them for free.
“You could use a little more flesh,” she had said, looking pointedly at Kimberly.
Kimberly learnt then that the good people of Mapungi were rather forthright with their opinions. And a lot of opinions they had. By the time they were done with lunch, she knew that Hajia, the food joint owner, did not believe that the government knew that Mapungi existed. Imoro, another customer, thought his only hope of success was to go south. And Imoro’s brother thought he could make it by marrying a rich woman, preferably from the South.
Kimberly did not have the heart to thwart their dreams. If only these people with their simple community life knew the difficulties that accompanied life in the big cities of the south. In Accra, there were no such thing as feeding a group of strangers for free. And between work and survival, there was simply no time for communality. So, instead of being the one to crush their dreams, she enjoyed the free meal and the comfortable banter among them.
Jessica was already in the front seat with Charlie in the driver’s, when Kimberly made it to the truck. She climbed in and Emma quickly followed.
“Hey Kimmie,” he said, “I’m really sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to upset you so much.” He was so sincere, and Kimberly knew it. Just as she knew that it was not going to be the last time that he or Ladipole for that matter, pushed her into a corner.
Sometimes, she believed that those two men were created simply to taunt her. But they loved her. She knew they did as much as she loved them. “It’s no big deal,” she said.
“But it is. I shouldn’t have made such insinuations.”
“But you did because as always, you were being you.”
“Ouch.”
“And I forgive you. Really, I do.”
“You’re sure you’re not planning a counter attack.”
Kimberly laughed. “Do you want me to?”
“No, I’ll pass.” Emma laughed with her.
“What’s funny?” Ladipole joined them in the back.
“I was just asking Kimberly if I had a chance with her now that she’s free?” Emma said.
“We all know it’s not me you want a chance with. Come on, confess it now.”
Emma was not a man to waste opportunities and he grabbed this unexpected one with both hands. “You are right,” he said quickly and loudly. “I do want a chance with another beautiful woman. Dear Jessica Farida Mubarak, will you be my girlfriend?”
The car screeched to a halt as Kimberly and Ladipole oohed and aahed and clapped.
“Is something wrong?” Jessica asked Charlie when the car had stopped.
“No,” he replied, “I accidentally stepped on the brake.”
“Be more careful.”
“Jessica?” Emma called from the backseat. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you loud and clear, Emma, but I would rather be a nun in a convent.”
“Ouch!” Kimberly murmured, though she had expected to hear worse. This thing between Jessica and Emma had been going on for years. She doubted that Jessica would give him a chance but it was fun watching and listening to them.
Ladipole slapped Emma on the shoulders. “Better luck next time, man.”
But the man was not the least perturbed by the less than graceful rejection. Instead, he added, “Then I’ll become a priest in the same convent.”
They burst out laughing. All of them except Charlie who was suddenly putting in great efforts to concentrate on his driving.
Hussein was putting in greater efforts than ever to get work done. He knew they would not make it before sundown, again. If only they could complete this portion of the tax, then the workers might have enough time to rest and be with their families the next day. Today, he had been able to hire more hands to assist the workers, though they were not as many as he had hoped.
The Faroukis, he had heard, had completed their season work in three days and were already prepared for market. He had expected that with the Faroukis out of the way, more hands would be available for hire. Instead, he had been slapped with the news that most of them had been rehired by Sadiq for another project. Another setback, he thought grimly. If things continued this way, they would be facing a real crisis.
The lights in the Big House were on, he noted as he got nearer. Had someone forgotten to turn them off? Or was somebody not yet in bed?
He had a sudden vision of a certain southern woman in a nightgown that revealed more than it covered. He did not deny it to himself that he hoped it was she. Already, she had invaded his thoughts and imaginations for half of the day.
Kimberly was rounding up the call to her mother when Hussein entered. For a moment, the words coming through the cell phone were sounds that held no meaning.
Though she had hoped that she would be done with her call and safely in her bed before he returned, and she had left the lights on so that he would not surprise her in case he returned earlier, a part of her brain, the part that chose to be decidedly attracted to Hussein, insisted that she had purposely stretched the conversation with her mother because she wanted to see him again when he entered. That she had had no intention of going to bed until she’d had a glimpse of him.
Not that it was necessarily true. She had known that he could walk in at any moment, but she had not been waiting for him. Why would she?
“Hello? Kimberly can you hear me? Are you okay, my dear?” her mother’s worried voice jolted her out of the mental argument.
“Yes mum,” she replied, watching Hussein as he strode to sit by her in the big couch. “I’m going to bed now. Bye.” She made to stand up but he stayed her with a hand on her arm.
The jolt of the contact had her jumping to farthest end of the couch. If he felt anything, he kept it well hidden as he said, “I want to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, we do.” He closed the gap between them and there was nowhere else to push.
She picked up the earthy scent mixed with sweat and animal scent that seemed to be with him every evening when he returned from the fields. It was pleasantly male and nothing like cow dunk, she realized. A hint of cow maybe. Embarrassment heated her cheeks about the previous night.
“About last night,” he added and she felt her entire face turn beet-red. “I think we can both agree as sensible adults that we went a little overboard.”
“A little?” she asked incredulously. “You called me silly after you nearly suffocated me. That sounds like plenty overboard to me.”
“Don’t forget that you called me a bushman and a madman. I think that—”
“Listen to me Hussein Mubarak. If you are apologising for your unruly behaviour towards me last night, I accept your apology and I forgive you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bed to get to.” She stood up.
He blocked her path in a swift motion. His chuckle was low and throaty. “I’m not apologising, Kimberly. Far from that. I’m only suggesting that we put that little incident behind us and try to get along. I have a feeling we might become very good friends.”
She did not like that he was so close. That her name had so easily rolled off his tongue and over her senses. It was better to stay away from this man who made her think of the most incredible things at the most inappropriate time.
“I appreciate it that you want to be friends and all, but I am very sleepy and I’d appreciate it even more if you got out of my way.” She was thankful for her steady voice. She did not feel so steady herself.
“As you wish.” He grinned and stepped closer. “But there’s one more thing.”
She stiffened when his hands closed around her shoulders. “What?” She could barely hear her own voice now.
“A goodnight kiss.”
Before she could protest, he wrapped one arm around her waist and the little bit of her brain that still functioned was grateful. But it was a very tiny little bit. The rest had already turned to mush at his touch.
This was not a goodnight kiss. His lips teased hers. Feathering, but not quite touching. It was intoxicating and frustrating at the same time.
She did not even pretend to push him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoes so that he could kiss her properly.
But Hussein was not in a rush. He wanted to take his time. To take in her scent and to explore. He nibbled at the sides of her mouth. She moaned softly and turned to capture his mouth.
Her lips were soft and parted. He brushed his tongue along her lower lip before he finally captured her open mouth. She shuddered in his arms and he pulled her closer.
He had only intended it to be a short kiss. But he had lost his intentions after the first touch. He knew it could not possibly be short. There was nothing short about this woman. She was all warmth and sweetness and willingness. Maybe this attraction he felt was not one sided after all.
But she was pulling back now and he was coming back to his senses. She pushed at him and took a step back, her eyes wide with mixed emotions. He couldn’t help teasing her to hide his own distorted feelings.
“Sweet dreams,” he said in a low voice. “I hope my kiss works better than Isaac Newton’s formulae.”
He did not feel the sting of her palm against his cheeks till she was already up the stairs. Then, he was too stunned to move. Just when he thought he had sensed a change in her attitude towards him, he had to say something stupid to further push her away. He felt like the biggest fool alive.
Kimberly was certain that she was the biggest fool alive. Just for those moments when Hussein had kissed her, she had felt so good. And she had stupidly believed his words that they could be friends.
Yet, at the slightest chance, he chose to taunt her. And the slap she had given him had given her no satisfaction. She punched the pillow yet again. “You are not worth my time nor my friendship, Hussein Mubarak and from now, you don’t exist to me.”
But her lips still tingled from the kiss he had given her. Knowing that she had received it rather willingly made her face burn. It was nothing, she told herself. Her curiosity over him had simply gotten the best of her. And now, she knew that Hussein Mubarak Daniels, with all his good looks, was simply one of the many arrogant, egoistic and self-assured men she had met, who in his favour happened to be a good kisser. A seriously good kisser. She could not resist touching her finger to her still tingling lips as sleep crept over her.
