Balmy November nights.
It would have been easy to stare but she didn’t want to.
She let him walk up to the counter, her face turned down, pretending she was busy with wiping the counter top down. She expected that he would state his order so that she could turn around to attend to it. But he said ‘hey’ instead.
“Hello.”
For a moment, she saw, he didn’t look away from her mouth. She liked the way they looked today: delicate and puckered. She knew the red lipstick she had applied emphasized their delicate shape perfectly. Just this morning, her mom had told her: ‘the rest of your features are arranged so neatly around that small mouth, your face looks like art.’
He smiled.
“I’d like a latte please.” His smile made him even more attractive. Her face was pulling itself into a grin against her will so she turned around quickly and went about her business; filling a cup in turns with steaming milk and black coffee. Composed now, she returned with a small styrofoam cup wrapped in a serviette napkin and gave him the most business-like smile she could muster. “Thank you for coming. That’ll be 1500 naira please.”
He grinned. “You didn’t ask if I wanted to take it away or drink it here. You didn’t even ask what size I wanted.” She felt her face grow hot. “I’m so sorry.” She blurted.
Shit shit shit. Customer service 101. She wanted to slap herself. How could you be so stupid? “I’m so sorry, do you want me to take this back? I can give you a fresh cup if you want.” She paused. The way he was staring at her caused a spark of irritation. She waited. He said nothing. Just stood there, grinning.
“Umm… Would you like to drink your latte here or take it out?”
“This is fine.” He had seen the irritation flash across her face. He pulled out his wallet, still grinning, apparently to himself, and placed a 1000 and two 500 naira notes on the surface between them. “Thank you.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Sure.” She said, as she punched keys and the cash register sprung open. “Thank you for coming to- ”. He was already walking away. She slammed the cash drawer shut and turned to the coffee machine so she could compose herself.
Deep breaths.
Two weeks ago, he had walked in here, charmed her with silky talk and convinced her to go out on a date with him. Granted, it was a rash decision. No one had dragged her out through the back door of the diner and into the parking lot at the end of her shift later that day, where she spotted him casually leaning against his car, waiting for her.
“Ready?” He’d asked. “Yeah.” She’d smiled. The short denim skirt she’d happened to wear to work that day was one of the reasons why she’d decided to go out with him. He was so cute, a part of her instantly wanted to impress him. She figured a little bit of thigh would incite some interesting reactions. He didn’t spare a look at her legs all the way there. Instead he turned his music up to the highest volume and responded with a “You’ll see,” when she yelled “Where are we going?” screaming to make herself heard over the jarring sounds of Foster the People. She knew it was a song called Colors off the Torches album because Foster the People was one of her favorite alternative bands of all time. What she didn’t like was being forced to listen to it at ear-splitting volume while his manic driving whipped her around the passenger seat. Especially when she would have loved to TELL him how much she loved this album, and maybe just have a little bit of normal car conversation on this warm November evening.
By the time they arrived at Su Casa, a ritzy restaurant in one of the fancier parts of Ikoyi, her hair looked like road rage. He had the gall to smirk at her as he turned off the car. “You might want to sort your hair out a little bit.”
She glared at his back as he got out of the car and quickly pulled a brush out of her bag, trying to put some order back into her hairstyle. When she got out of the car, he was jingling his keys against his thigh impatiently. He gave her a once over and held his arm out to her as she circled the rear of the car to him. “Shall we?” His smile was suddenly sweet, and he was searching her eyes with his own. She felt a small chill as it dawned on her that she barely even knew this man. “I’m Richard,” he had said earlier, back at the coffee shop counter. She was only just realizing that a name was hardly enough.
Those worries dwindled into insignificance when they stepped into the sophisticated glow of Su Casa. She was wearing Converses and a denim skirt for God’s sake. Why would he have brought her here? Of all places. She tried not to panic. He was wearing navy blue slacks and a crisp white Polo shirt. What the hell?
At their table, she scooted into the furthest corner of the booth and fought against showing the mental gymnastics that her self-esteem was suddenly doing with feelings of inadequacy. He slid in smoothly beside her and she felt a wave of sadness hit her. What was she doing here? At that moment, he turned and searched her face with eyes that were like deep pools of chocolate. She melted. “Are you okay?” He was asking.
“Not really.” She confessed almost desperately. “Can we please get out of here? I feel really weird.” He laughed and she turned cold at the mockery in his tone. “We just got here and I’m hungry. Try the salmon. It’s so good.” I don’t like fish.
She wanted to cry.
“Excuse me.” She scooted quickly out of the other side of the booth and hurried to the bathroom. Her beloved Converse sneakers felt filthy and ancient as she made her way across the restaurant to the restrooms. An attendant was slumped on a stool just inside the door of the ladies room. She shook the sleeping woman with the strength of all the panic pulsating through her. “Hello? Please. Can you tell me if there’s another exit apart from the main door?”
“Wha-?” The attendant wiped spit quickly from the edge of her mouth. Lydia felt terrible for stealing time from the sleep this woman clearly needed. The attendant’s eyes were bloodshot as she stared balefully at the customer who had woken her.
“I’m so sorry for waking you. But please, is there only one exit in this restaurant?”
The attendant sized her up a little before she answered. “No, ma. There is a backdoor in that hallway that you took to come here.”
“Thank you.” Lydia made her way quickly back out of the ladies room and into the hallway. A part of her imagined turning the corner and bumping into Richard. She shuddered and searched the hallway frantically for the back door the attendant had been talking about. There. She made her way to it quickly and pushed down on the metal bar with all of her strength. Nothing happened. “Oh God, no, please.” She pushed down again with all of her strength and shouldered the door at the same time, frantic now. The heavy door swung open and she almost fell onto the concrete on the other side of it. A rush of balmy November air hit her and she found herself in what looked like a parking lot at the back of the restaurant. Richard had parked in front. She rushed quickly to the gates they had driven through and practically ran down the street, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the restaurant. 10 minutes later, she was in a taxi, heading home.
The cab driver peered into his rear view mirror at the pretty girl in tears in his backseat. “Miss. Are you okay? Is everything okay?” Her sobs became louder. Alarmed, he wound down the windows so she could get some fresh air. “Miss. I’m winding down the windows. The fresh air should help, okay? Do I need to take you to a hospital? Did something happen to you?”
Lydia sniffed and wiped at her eyes, calmer now that she had gotten the confusion and disappointment of the night out of her system. “No, I’m okay really. Thank you so much but please just take me to my destination.”
“Well alright. But please stop crying miss. It’s a terrible thing to see a lady cry.”
Lydia couldn’t help bursting out with a sob-laugh. “Thank you.” She sniffed. “You’re very kind.”
The cab driver shook his head as he tried to imagine what could have happened to a young lady at this time of night. In such a classy neighborhood too. “Don’t know what the world is coming to.” He mumbled.
Lydia slipped off her shoes with the toe of one shoe, then the toes of her foot, and crawled into bed in her ankle socks. She pulled the covers over her head. Her alarm jarred her out of sleep the next day.
