Ijendu looked in the mirror and ruffled her hair. “Yes o. Daddy wanted an early lunch so he could introduce me to one designer friend of his visiting from Malaysia.”
“Ah, how was that?”
Ijendu shrugged. “It was okay. How about you? How are you feeling?” She turned and looked at Aima, concern creasing her forehead.
Aima groaned. “Hungover.”
“Ei-yah. Have you been drinking water?”
Aima struggled to control her face at the memory of the conversation she’d had with Dike outside the kitchen. “Not enough,” she managed to say.
Ijendu frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Wait, have you eaten anything?” Aima gave her a guilty smile and Ijendu rolled her eyes. “Oya, get dressed. We’re going to get you some food.”
“Ah-ahn, but you just ate!”
“And so? I’ll just watch you. Hurry up, you can’t go out in that old bubu.”
Aima gave in and rummaged through her suitcase for something to wear. She found a sea-green cotton dress and held it up against herself, smoothing out the wrinkles.
“Ooh, I like that one,” Ijendu said.
Aima smiled. “Thanks.”
They looked at each other for a moment, then it stretched out to an uncomfortable length. Usually, Aima would change in front of Ijendu, but this time she felt self-conscious. She bit her lip and looked away, and Ijendu blushed.
“I’m going to get you some water from the kitchen,” she said, and Aima nodded. She watched Ijendu leave, shutting the door behind her, and Aima felt a twinge of sadness pass through her. She changed her clothes, her movements heavy, wondering how much of their friendship the night before had ruined.
Saturday, 2:54 PM
They’d driven for a while, all the way to the other end of the highland, to Ijendu’s favorite health bistro. She only wanted a cold-pressed green juice but insisted that Aima eat. It was easier to order food than argue that she had no appetite, so Aima picked at a salmon salad while Ijendu chattered away easily, gossiping about her godfather and how she suspected there was more to the story between him and that designer friend of his. After a while, she put down her juice and put her hand on Aima’s.
“How are you feeling about Kalu?” she asked. She said it gently, like she was afraid that it would be a hard question for Aima to hear.
Aima tried not to show her relief at the subject being brought up. She’d been worried that Ijendu would want to talk about them (how strange that there was a “them” to talk about now). “I prayed about it this morning,” she answered. “And…I think I want to give it another chance.”
“Yes!” Ijendu clapped in delight. She looked genuinely happy to hear it. “I was hoping that you’d come to that decision, but I know it’s not been easy between the two of you.”
Aima sighed. “Love never is.”
“Amen, my sister.” Ijendu wriggled in her chair as she sipped on her juice, doing a small dance. “You’re getting back together!”
“I don’t know o. He’s probably angry with me right now; I don’t know if he’ll even want to see me.”
Ijendu scoffed. “Are you mad? That man’s been in love with you for years. He’ll be overjoyed that you’re giving him another chance.”
Aima moved some spinach around on her plate. “I don’t know. He doesn’t even know I’m in the city.”
Ijendu flapped her hand. “It doesn’t matter. Just call him and say you want to see him.”
“No.” Aima bit her lip. “I’m not ready yet.”
Her friend gave her a soft look. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
Aima nodded, but she wasn’t sure Ijendu was right. The longer she delayed in reconciling with Kalu, the further he might drift away from her. It had barely been a day, but still.
Ijendu changed the subject smoothly, telling some small story about one of the girls they’d gone out with last night, and Aima half listened, interjecting with the appropriate murmurs and laughs. Despite Ijendu’s confidence, she was still terrified that Kalu wouldn’t want her back, that the road she wanted so badly to be back on was closed to her, and it would be all her fault.
After they paid the bill, the two girls walked back to Ijendu’s car and Aima climbed into the passenger seat. Ijendu often liked to drive around the city herself without a driver. It drove her parents wild with worry, but she was stubborn and insisted. There was an edge to her that Aima wondered about, some hardness that Ijendu usually took care not to show to her. Even in everything last night, even while drunk and high, Ijendu had been laughing tenderness and teasing softness. Aima looked over at her in the car and on impulse reached out and touched her cheek. Ijendu stopped midsentence, surprised. Aima smiled a little sadly to see it. She’d been keeping some distance from her all day, and clearly her best friend had noticed but understood and said nothing.
“Thank you,” Aima said. “For everything.”
Ijendu leaned her face into Aima’s hand for a moment and smiled back. “Of course.”
Aima withdrew her hand and Ijendu turned her attention back to the road, continuing her story. They ran into traffic on the expressway that stretched across the highland and Ijendu sighed.
“Every day,” she said. “This country will not kill me.” She turned up the volume of the radio and sang along to the Lady Donli song that was playing. “You can rest if you want,” she told Aima in between, and Aima gave her a small grateful look before reclining her seat and leaning back into it. The radio slid from song into song for the next twenty minutes, and Ijendu sang along to all of them until the traffic eased up. They were getting closer to the estate when Ijendu turned the car into a residential street and broke off her singing. “Wait,” she said. “Doesn’t Ahmed live around here?”
Aima looked out of the window. “Oh yeah, his house is just down the road.” She and Kalu spent—used to spend—as much time there as they did in their own place. Ahmed loved to barbecue, and even Ijendu had spent many balmy evenings in his garden, all four of them sitting and laughing together. It suddenly hit her that her entire life in the city would be completely different without Kalu, a cataclysmic shift, one world ripped apart and an unrecognizable one left behind.
“That’s perfect!” Ijendu’s face lit up, excited. “We should stop by and see him.”
Aima was confused. “Why, what for?”
Ijendu rolled her eyes. “Look, you’re scared to tell Kalu that you’re still around and you want him back because you’re not sure how he feels. If you want to find out, we can just ask Ahmed. He’ll tell you, won’t he?”
She was right, Ahmed would. He’d tried to talk Aima out of breaking up with Kalu quite a few times before she’d finally left. “I want to see you two together,” he’d said. “I know Kalu’s made mistakes, but I just don’t want this city to be the thing that tears you apart.”
“Yeah,” she replied. “He’ll tell me.”
