Michael stood still for a few seconds. He blinked, looking at the heavy bagco bags she had left beside him. He let out a small sigh and rubbed his forehead slowly.
He looked at the bags again. There were so many. A carton of Indomie was on the floor with three bulging black bags that looked heavy. He guessed there was rice, beans, garri, and other food items in them. Two bright bags from the fabric shop contained fine materials and sewing items. Another bag contained a local broom and other cleaning agents.
He couldn't remember the last time he saw someone using that broom, as almost everyone now opts for brushes.
She must have spent a lot of money, Michael thought, wondering if his mother had given her money.
Michael bent slowly and lifted the heavier bags first. He carried them up the stairs and placed them beside her door. He was careful to arrange them neatly. He shook his head a little, wondering how she had carried them alone from the market to the keke.
Inside the pharmacy, Amara was already greeting Michael's mother.
"Mummy, good afternoon. I'm sorry I kept you waiting," she said with a wide smile.
Michael's mother smiled as she rose to look at her. "You're back. Welcome. You look tired," she said, observing her.
"I am a little tired, ma," Amara admitted, smiling. "The market was so full. I forgot how busy it can get."
"Pele. That's how it is for me. Going to the market always stresses me out. Any day I go to the market, I sleep. I don't cook on the same day. I prefer to cook the next day. Let's go to your place. I don't know where Tega went. I told him I wanted him to pray for your place. He stepped outside just now…"
"He is outside. He said he is waiting for someone," Amara explained.
"Who is he waiting for?" Michael's mother asked, but Amara shook her head.
"I don't know. I asked him to help me look at my things so that I can come and greet you," Amara said as they stepped out of the pharmacy.
They got outside just as Michael was returning from the stairs, and Amara looked at Michael, surprised that he had carried the things upstairs.
"Thank you. I'm sorry for the stress. I didn't expect you to carry them up," she said apologetically.
"It didn't make sense for me to just leave them out here for you to carry them up yourself," Michael said, looking at her.
"Sorry…"
"Why are you apologizing? A gentleman should always help a woman this way, and my son is a gentleman like his father. I brought him up well," she said with a proud smile, glad Michael had taken the initiative to help Amara.
Amara laughed, "Yes. He is a very gentleman. Thank you, Pastor Michael," she said, smiling at him before heading up the stairs.
"Tega, Amara said you're waiting for someone. Who are you waiting for? Can you come so that we can pray for the apartment now? Or do you need to wait until the person gets here?" She asked, looking at Michael.
He didn't want his mother to know that he had been waiting for Amara, so he ignored the question, "I will get my anointing oil from my office, and I will join you," he said before walking into the pharmacy while his mother followed Amara up the stairs.
"I can see you bought plenty things," Michael's mother observed.
"Yes, ma," Amara said with a shy laugh. "I want to try and stock the house little by little and also buy the things I need to sew. I unlocked my savings with PiggyVest."
"Why did you do that? I was going to send you money…"
"No, mummy. You have over tried for me already. I can't possibly take anything else from you. Thank you, ma," Amara said as she turned the key in the padlock and pushed the verandah door open.
"I don't remember complaining," she said as she picked up the bag containing the broom and cleaning agents while Amara opened the main door to her apartment.
"Mummy, leave the bag, I will carry it," Amara said, but Michael's mother ignored her as she carried the bag into the house.
Amara picked up the bags containing the fabric and sawing items and took them inside.
"Are those bags not too heavy for you?" Michael's mother asked as she watched Amara take them into the house.
"No, ma. I can carry it," Amara said, and Michael's mother shook her head.
"You don't have to carry it. Tega is coming. He will carry them," she suggested, but Amara laughed.
"Mummy, don't look at me like this o. I'm strong. I carried them myself in the market. I can carry them. Please sit down. I'm coming," she said as she hurried to the door to go and carry the rest of the bags.
An amused smile played on her face as she watched Amara go, and she shook her head.
Just as Amara got to the entrance, she saw Michael, who had just arrived, slipping the bottle of original Goya olive oil so that he could pick up the bags.
"You don't have to carry it," Amara said, looking uncomfortable that she was bothering him.
Michael ignored her. "Go inside. I will bring the bags," Michael said simply.
"It will be faster if we carry them at once," she said, and just as she reached for the last bagco bag, Michael went for it too.
His hand brushed Amara's by mistake, and he quickly pulled his hand back as his pulse quickened.
"What's that? I don't have leprosy," Amara said when she noticed his reaction.
"Sorry. Reflex action," Michael mumbled.
"It's okay, Pastor. I was just joking," Amara said with a teasing smile as she stepped out of the way so he could go in with the two bags he was carrying, while she carried the last bagco bag and kicked the indomie carton ahead of her.
Michael's mother, who was watching from the doorway, smiled and laughed silently as she watched them and returned inside the house.
Michael was in trouble. Only God was going to help him. She wished she didn't have to return to Lagos so soon so that she could watch the drama unfold between them.
"Where should I keep these?" Michael asked. He tried not to look around too much, but his eyes still wandered.
Since the doors were open, he saw the neatly folded clothes on the bed in the room. He also noticed the sparkling cooking pots lined up on the kitchen counter like she had scrubbed them.
"You can leave them there for now," Amara said, pointing to a corner near the kitchen door. "I will arrange them later. Thank you."
Michael set the bag he was carrying near the kitchen door.
"You did a very good job cleaning this place, my dear. It looks so neat and organized. I noticed you changed the position of everything," she said, and Amara smiled.
"Thank you, ma. I wanted it to look like my own place, not the last tenant's place," she said, and Michael's mother nodded as she looked around one more time.
She walked over to the window and opened the curtain wider so more light could enter. "Very good," she said. "This place is fine. I'm impressed. What do you think, Tega?" His mother asked.
Michael took the oil out of his pocket. "I am waiting," he said, showing her the oil. "Are you ready so we can pray over the apartment?" he asked Amara instead.
"Yes, Pastor," Amara said, smiling at him as she wiped a little sweat from her forehead.
Michael cleared his throat and spoke, his voice quiet. "Let's pray."
They all stood in a small circle in the middle of the room. Michael held the bottle of oil in his hand.
Amara closed her eyes and lowered her head as she waited for him to start praying, but when Michael started a worship song, she opened her eyes to look at him.
He had a really nice voice, and he was a very fine man, Amara thought with a small smile. He looked more like a pastor at the moment, the same way he had looked on Sunday on the altar.
The woman he will get married to will be very blessed to have a man like him and a mother-in-law like his mother. If they were treating a stranger like her this way, she could only imagine how they would treat his future wife.
She remembered what Michael's mother had said about his wife not being ready yet, and God still working on her. She hoped the wife was not sister Faith. Not that she was judging her, but Michael didn't deserve a wife who would cheat on him that way or act like one thing in church and a different thing outside church. She didn't even have the decency to wait until she got inside the room to behave like that.
Michael's mother opened her eyes, and she was amused to see Amara staring at Michael.
Michael's voice was steady as he began to pray. "Father, we thank You for your daughter, Amara. Thank you for how you saved her, and thank you for this new place You have provided for her. Thank you for your mercy and for giving her a fresh start."
"We ask that you bless this home and her business," Michael continued, his tone gentle. "Let your peace live here. Let Your Spirit fill every corner. Let no evil come near her dwelling. We anoint this house in the name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit."
"Amen," Michael's mother and Amara said in unison.
Michael opened the oil bottle carefully. He placed a drop on the doorpost. Then he walked to each door and touched it with the oil. He went to each window, placing a small dab of oil while he prayed under his breath.
Amara watched him, her eyes wide. She felt something inside her that she couldn't describe. Her chest was warm.
When he finished, he stepped back beside her. "It is done," he said simply.
"Amen," Amara whispered.
Michael's mother smiled. "You are blessed, dear. You will not lack under this roof. You will have joy here. And you will go from here to your husband's house."
Amara laughed. "Amen! Thank you, ma," Amara said, feeling very grateful.
Michael looked at her. He wanted to say something encouraging. But the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he gave a slight nod and turned to the door.
"I'm going back to my office," he said, and Amara nodded.
"Can I come to charge my phone later? There is no light and my battery will run down soon," she said, and Michael didn't hesitate.
He nodded. "Bring it to my office. It's safer there," he said, even though deep down he knew it would be safe in any part of the pharmacy since they didn't always allow customers inside unless they were there for consultation.
"Tega when you're done, come back. Let's throw a little housewarming party for Amara, since I'm going back tomorrow," she said, and Amara looked at her in surprise.
"Tomorrow?" She asked, while Michael watched her
His mother smiled, "Yes, my dear. My husband is missing me. I have to go back tomorrow morning. I was supposed to leave today but I stayed back because of you. Thank God everything is been taken care of, and Tega can handle anything else that comes up," she said, and Amara pouted.
"I will miss you. When will you come again?" Amara asked, and she laughed.
"I'm not sure. But you can come and visit me. If I invite you, will you come?" She asked, and Amara smiled.
"I've never been to Lagos. But if you invite me I will come," she promised, and the woman nodded.
"Good. When next Tega is coming to Lagos he will bring you with him. Tega, why are you still standing there. Were you not waiting for somebody?" His mother asked, and without another word he walked away.