As she was navigating the morning traffic to work Tumi had time to replay the morning’s scene in her mind, in slow motion. The accusation was rubbish, of course. What nonsense. She and Tshepo had a good thing going, and she believed God would one day bless them with a child. Tshepo was all she needed in life. For almost seven years she had worked hard for her marriage, weathered many storms in the beginning; she wasn’t about to let a random woman and her unfounded allegations come between her and her husband now. Tshepo was her husband, hers alone, and their marriage was solid and meant everything to her.
The sound of the cellphone ringing jolted Tumi out of her deep thoughts.
“Just checking if everything is still okay, sweetheart.” It was Tshepo. “You got me worried with that call.”
“Actually something strange has happened . . .” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “But it’s probably nothing. I mean, I know it’s nothing.”
Tumi started to tell Tshepo about Nomkhosi’s visit but stopped; Nomkhosi’s words flooded her mind: “In June we went to Cape Town for a week. He said you had left, moved out and gone back to your parents in Soweto. You called only twice during that time and both conversations were short . . .” Tumi tried to think back to that time in June. Tshepo may have gone to Cape Town around that time, but Tumi couldn’t prove he’d said those things about her moving out of the house.
“You still there?” Tshepo asked. “You were saying . . .”
Tumi stalled; somehow she no longer wanted to continue telling him about the visitor, though she was convinced in her heart the matter was a simple case of mistaken identity or something. “You know what, my love, this doesn’t matter.”
“No, no, my wife, you can’t start a story and then decide it doesn’t matter. Come on, tell me,” Tshepo protested. “So you open the door to be greeted by a crazy sobbing woman, then what? Did she tell you her name?” His tone was curious; Tumi thought she detected a little apprehension. Or was she imagining it?
“I didn’t say she was crazy. She was sad,” she said. “Anyway, turns out she was lost. She came to the wrong house.” She wasn’t sure why she was lying to him about this woman and her allegations; she never kept secrets from her husband.
“Oh? Which house was she looking for?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask her. Why all the questions?”
“She was lost, wasn’t she? And I know for a fact Mrs Modise knows everyone in our neighbourhood.”
“She came to the wrong estate, she mentioned a name I didn’t recognise,” Tumi said quickly.
“Are you sure?”
Tumi heard a shuffling sound in Tshepo’s background and him muttering, “I’m on the phone with my wife, what do you want?”
There was a brief pause. “Listen, baby, I would love to continue chatting, but something urgent has come up,” he said with agitation. “Do we have plans for this evening?”
“No, I’m hoping to get together with the girls. I haven’t seen them in ages. Is that all right with you? We can do something tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll stay here for an extra hour or two. We’re starting to lag behind. We can’t afford to, not with this baby. I love you.”
Tumi hung up. Her eyes involuntarily landed on her handbag lying on the floor on the passenger’s side. She hadn’t looked in that direction since throwing the bag into the car. The sight of it brought a pang to her stomach.
Tumi laughed. She was being crazy, there was nothing to worry about. The ultrasound had nothing to do with her husband, with them.
Passion Is Overrated
The hot water pelting Princess’s bare skin brought a welcome relief to her numb body. At last sensation was returning to her lower limbs, and only traces of queasiness remained. She upped the shower heat until the water was almost scalding. The bathroom filled up with steam, resembling a sauna. For a long time she stood in the shower, taking long, deliberate breaths, filling her lungs with hot, wet air and slowly collapsing them as though performing a cleansing ritual. She felt dirty and violated. When the water turned lukewarm, she lathered a bath sponge with soap and scrubbed her body furiously.
The early-morning events weighed heavily on her mind. After the two men in trench coats had left, after she had regained consciousness, she found that even the familiar warmth of Leo’s body next to hers, which she normally sought out and counted on to relieve any unhappiness, yielded no comfort. She had lain under the covers, scared and tense, her mind a chaotic whirl of thoughts and speculations. She had wondered about many things; her life, it seemed, was one big round of wondering. She had wondered about Leo and his well-being, things he kept concealed from her and which revealed themselves by accident, like the two men. Who were they? How did they know Leo? And what did they want from him? She had wondered about their relationship, where it was headed, where it wasn’t. She preferred not to dwell on the relationship much, afraid of the anomalies her clever brain might point out. She had wondered about the sensitivity of her stomach and the nausea that wouldn’t go away. She had wondered about her late mother, bless her soul, and wished she could talk to her. She had dozed off still wondering.
Princess dried off and stepped out of the shower. In the bedroom Leo was sleeping soundly. She stood by the bed watching his bare chest rise up and down in a composed rhythm. Her first impulse was to run her hands over his smooth dark skin as she normally did every morning. She liked to make love to him in the morning, loved the way his taste and smell stayed with her all day. As her fingers touched his skin, Princess recoiled; this was no time for loving.
“Leo, wake up.”
Leo didn’t stir. He was a sound sleeper, could sleep through a heavy metal rock concert. And of late he did nothing but sleep his days away.
“Get up!” she said, more loudly, shaking his arms with unnecessary force. “Leo!”
“What, baby?” he grunted and reluctantly opened his eyes. A surprised, mischievous smile formed around his mouth. He eyed her up and down and started to lean towards her. “Have I ever told you how sexy you are, my own Jada Pinkett-Smith?”
Princess wasn’t impressed by his compliment. She realised she was only wrapped in a bath towel, took a step back, out of Leo’s reach, and folded her arms. “The men from this morning, who are they?” The shock had worn off. She was focused.
“What men?” he asked, his smile dissipating.
Princess glared down at him with her piercing brown eyes.
“Oh, them?” He sank his head into the pillow and feigned a dry cough. “They’re nobody.”
“Don’t play games with me. I want to know who those men are and what they wanted from you.”
“Baby, don’t worry about those jerks.” He was trying hard to keep it together. “Why don’t you come here and give me some love?” He patted the empty side of the bed and looked at her with hopeful eyes.
Princess furrowed her brow, angled a suspicious look at him. Her mind was racing. “What was in the brown package you gave them?”
Leo let out an exasperated sigh and averted his eyes. “I’ve already told you not to worry. This morning was a big misunderstanding. Please don’t turn what happened into a big issue.”
“Foreign men come into my house, scare me shitless and threaten to blow your brains out, and I’m supposed to dismiss everything as a misunderstanding? I’m not a fool, you know.” Anger was swelling inside her. She hated being lied to.
“I know, baby, and I’m not suggesting you are. Let’s put this incident behind us, forget it happened, okay?”
“Leonard,