CHAPTER NINE
CAROLINE
"Ma, I am through with the UBA arrangement," the florist said as she walked into view from the cold room. "Can I have a coffee break?" She said. I waved her off, not bothering to look her way, as I stared at the plastic flower arrangement in front of me.
As she left, my mind wandered.
I walked into Safarat's apartment, and my jaw dropped. I have to say this right now. Saying the sitting room is all set is an understatement of this century. I must confess to you, the sitting room before me was what I considered more than just set. All she would ever need was well-positioned in this sitting room. All she just had to move was nothing. Every other thing she ever needed was in here. I couldn't wait to see the bedroom.
Suddenly, I felt so jealous she had everything she ever wanted or needed while I had always had to make do with what I could get, which felt so unfair to me. I checked myself quickly. I knew being jealous of petty things like this wasn't my thing, and I did not like my trend of thought.
The first thing that caught my eye was the immaculate blue rug that clothed the floor. The rug design was like a play with different shades of colour blue and different sizes of a square box interwoven to perfection. You could hardly see where each shade of blue box faded into another, and when light flashed on it, it played a dazzling game that could keep one staring for minutes or hours as time allowed.
Sitting gracefully on this fine rug were the most beautiful blue settees I had ever seen. The settees were spaced out on the rug. The sitting room was so large that three of our hostel rooms could fit. I wished I could decode what message Safarat was trying to pass by getting an apartment this large.
Beautiful artificial pot plants sat between the settees. I mentally dared Safarat to get live plant pots if they did not all dry out in two weeks, but of course, I knew she knew how lazy she was. In the centre of the sitting room was the most beautiful centre table I had ever seen. It was enormous, with a short wooden leg supporting a crystal-clear aquarium that gave the feeling of sea life in a sitting room. Its size was six by four feet. I also noticed wallflowers dripping down their baskets. Wall paintings graced the walls—paintings of beautiful hills filled with flowers, some paintings of cars and houses.
The one that held me spellbound for some minutes was the painting of the ocean and a mermaid with a golden crown and sceptre. The mermaid was in the deep blue sea, with her upper half visible. She was clothed only in a scaley bra, and in her right hand, she held the most beautiful golden sceptre ever, adorned with well-carved sea creatures.
"Don't worry, I will let you take pictures of that wall painting later. I am sure, if you pay more attention to your hands, you will know it is shaking and needs to be set down," she said. I laughed out loud and moved off my position. I never knew I had overburdened my hand in my absorption and moved close to the painting I was admiring.
"Safarat, I will take you up on this offer later because I would like to draw a better picture analysis of how that artist's mind works," I said, and she rolled her eyes and laughed.
"Please do not go all philosophical on me, please," she said, laughing, and I joined in the laughter as we walked into what I believed was her bedroom.
Her bedroom was another beautiful place to be, which made me want to ask her how wealthy her parents were. Her bed was king-sized. I had not been to many five-star hotels, but this room was more decorated and well-equipped than any I had been to.
I dropped a box where she instructed me on the floor close to her wardrobe, then joined her on the bed. Her bed was so soft I had to wonder what the other room in this apartment looked and felt like. I tried my best not to consider her offer, but I knew I couldn't ignore it. I did not know her that well to consider moving in with her, luxury or no luxury.
On her bed, I rolled from one side to another, enjoying the comfort it brought. Suddenly, I felt the urge to feel the bed on my bare skin. Slowly, I lifted my top over my head while maintaining eye contact with her. Safarat shook her head, laughing.
"Sorry, I do not do girls," she said, still laughing. I ignored her as I pulled my top over my head, brought it to cover my bar, and lay back on the bed.
I placed my hand on my head then widened and closed my legs intermittently, enjoying this playful two-year-old game I was playing on her bed. She rolled her eyes, looked away, then turned around and walked to her wardrobe. I followed her with my eyes. I was so surprised that her wardrobe was full without what we had just brought back from the hostel still packed in their respective boxes.
Just then, I heard the sound of the doorbell. She left what she was doing, dashed to the door, and left the room. I maintained my position on the bed, willing to let go of its comfort just yet. I knew I had to get ready for her party in honour of this apartment, but sadly, I had nothing suitable to wear. I had discovered that we wore the same size, but I could not infringe on her wardrobe, meaning I had to attend the party in my current outfit and pray the venue was casual.
Two voices drifted in—the familiar sound of my friend and a deeper male voice. I quickly got up and put my clothes back on.
The door opened, and Safarat walked in with a much older man. My first thought was that he should be her father, but I could see little resemblance.
"Caroline, I would like you to meet Chief Timothy. He is my baby," she said. My jaw dropped, quickly masked as I regained composure.
"It's so nice to meet you, sir—or can I call you Timothy?" I asked, glancing at Safarat. She smiled, and I looked back at Chief Timothy, who smiled warmly.
"You can just call me Chief," he said. I nodded. Safarat clapped, drawing my attention back to her.
"Good, with introductions done, I would like to inform you that Timothy has agreed to take us out to celebrate this," she said, gesturing to the apartment.
"I see you girls need to dress, so I will leave you to it," Chief Timothy said, heading toward the door. He paused, turned, and added, "Please be fast with it; I hate to wait," then left.
Safarat's eyes returned to me, ready for my reaction. I masked my feelings. I knew I could not judge her choices, no matter the man's age.
"Spit it out," she said suddenly.
I smiled. "There's nothing to vent. I can see you love him, so enjoy," I said, jumping off her bed as her smile took over her face.
She stepped close, holding my shoulders to keep me in place. Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief.
"I do not love him, but I love his pocket," she giggled.
I laughed along, understanding that her private life was hers—unless she asked for my opinion.
She waited for me to speak, but when I didn't, she sighed.