Chapter Thirty-One
While Amara was in the kitchen making jollof rice, Michael supervised the work the solar guy was doing, while his mother lay on Amara's bed.
By the time she was done cooking, the light had been connected, and Amara couldn't believe her luck.
She had an apartment with a bed frame, a dressing table, a fan, and constant electricity.
"Why are you crying?" Michael asked when he turned and saw her standing by the kitchen door, staring at the ceiling fan in the parlor.
Amara smiled as she brushed the tears from her face and looked at him. "It's just hard to believe that this is my apartment. I'm still taking it all in."
Michael sighed deeply, wondering what sort of house she had grown up in for her to be so touched by such a basic apartment.
"Food is ready. Sit down while I bring some for you," she said before he could say anything.
"No need. I need to get back to the office now."
"Should I put it in a cooler and bring it to your office?" Amara asked, making it clear she wouldn't take no for an answer.
Michael sighed. "Okay. Thank you."
"You haven't tasted the food you're thanking me. What if it's not tasty?" She asked with a small smile.
"It's the effort I'm thanking you for, not the output," Michael said, returning her smile before walking away.
After he left, Amara woke his mother, who had dozed off on the bed, and they ate together.
"Chef Amara! This rice is top-notch. You were not lying at all when you said you can cook. Even the last party Jollof I ate cannot compare with this one," she declared, and Amara laughed.
"Thank you, ma. I think this is what I know how to cook best," she confessed.
"Did you know that Tega's best food is jollof rice?" The woman asked, wondering how her son would react when he tasted Amara's jollof rice.
"Really? So, why did he not want to eat when I offered to serve some?" Amara asked, puzzled.
"I think he is shy around you. Don't tell him I told you," Michael's mother said with a laugh.
Amara laughed. "Why will a whole Pastor Michael be shy around me? He even said we should be friends yesterday," Amara said with a wide smile.
"He said so?" Michael's mother asked with a surprised smile.
Amara nodded. "Yes, ma."
The woman laughed, "That's good. I hope the two of you will be very good friends. Make sure you follow him to church for weekly activities. And you should join the choir again. Your voice is too fine for you not to sing for God."
Amara hesitated, "Do you think they will allow me to join the choir again if they know all I did?"
Michael's mother set aside her spoon and reached for Amara's hand.
"God is not condemning you. Don't let any human condemn you. Are they heaven gatekeepers? If the host of heaven is rejoicing that you were lost but found again, shouldn't those on earth throw a big party to celebrate your return? God has given you another chance to serve Him. Trust me, to whom much is given, much is expected. God expects so much more from you now," she said, and Amara smiled.
"You expect much too since you've given me much, right?" she asked, and the woman laughed.
"The only thing I expect and want from you is to serve God and obey Him. Allow God to lead you," she said, and Amara shook her head.
Amara was in awe of the woman's kindness. "I didn't know angels existed in human form. I think you and Pastor Michael are angels."
"We are not angels. We are just vessels in the hands of God. Every believer should be this way, knowing that nothing we have is really our own. All we have has been entrusted to us by God to further His work on earth. Our focus isn't on amassing wealth but on amassing souls for Christ as God leads us. Now that is enough talking. Let's eat before the food gets cold. I need to go home to arrange my things, and I have to visit one or two people," she said, and they focused on their meal.
After eating, Amara cleared the dishes and came with a measuring tape, "Mummy, please let me take your measurement before you go."
"My measurement?"
"Yes, ma. I want to sew something nice for you," Amara said, and the woman laughed.
"You don't have to, my dear…"
"Mummy, let me just take the measurement. Please," Amara cut in, and the woman sighed.
"Okay. If you insist," she said, standing up, and Amara took her measurement.
"I would like to see you off when you're leaving tomorrow. When are you going?" Amara asked as they walked out of the house together.
"My flight is at ten in the morning. Let's hope they won't change it," she said, and Amara nodded.
"Okay. I will come to the house by nine so I can follow you to the airport," Amara said, and the woman smiled.
"It will be nice to see you before I leave. Take care of yourself, Amara. You have my number, so call me if you need anything. I will try to call you often as well. And if you can't reach me, meet Tega," she said, and Amara nodded.
"Which cooler are you carrying?" Michael's mother asked when she noticed Amara was hosing a cooler.
"It's Pastor Michael's rice," she said, and the woman smiled and nodded with approval.
"That's good. I trust you to take good care of him for me. Take the food to him. Tell him I've gone home," she said as she flagged down a Keke.
Amara watched until the Keke had left before walking into the pharmacy. As she walked in, Nurse Loveth smiled when she saw the cooler in her hand.
"Amara, you brought food for us? Everywhere has been scenting since," she said, and Amara smiled guiltily.
"Sorry, this one is only for Pastor Michael. Another day, I will add your mouth," Amara promised.
"Beggy beggy," Nurse Christy jeered at Loveth.
"Christy, mind your business in this pharmacy. I didn't talk to you…"
"See me o. Did I talk to you? Is your name beggy beggy?" Nurse Christy asked with a mocking laugh.
"Please don't mind them. You can go inside. Pastor Michael is inside," the only guy amongst them told Amara.
"Thank you." Amara smiled as she walked away, leaving the ladies to their argument.
Amara knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"
The moment Michael heard her voice, his heart skipped a beat. He had been wondering if she had forgotten about him and the food she said she was bringing.
He had not gone out to buy his lunch as usual because he was waiting for the jollof rice she was bringing. He had been salivating all the while in her apartment, but pride had not allowed him to jump at her offer to serve him food.
"Come in," Michael called, and she walked in with a wide smile.
"I brought your share. Your mom just left," she said as she approached his desk with the cooler.
Michael looked at the cooler as she placed it on his desk. "Thank you," he said.
Amara hesitated, not sure whether to sit down or to leave. Would it be okay if she sat down to gist with him a little? What would they gist about? Would he even want her to? She wondered.
At the same time, Michael looked at her, wondering if she would drop the food and leave. Was she not going to sit down?
Maybe he should offer her a seat.
"Are you busy upstairs? Or would you like to sit down and chat for a bit?" He asked, and watched as her face lit up with a smile.
God! Why was her smile so beautiful? Michael wondered, smiling back without realizing it.
"I'm not busy yet," she said as she slid into the seat opposite him to his relief.
"Yet?"
"I want to try to make a dress for Mummy before she leaves tomorrow. Don't tell her, though. It's a surprise gift. Are you dropping her off at the airport tomorrow? I'd like to come with you," she said, and Michael watched her.
"Will you be able to make a dress before tomorrow? You don't have to rush..."
"I can do it. Thank God for the light you gave me, I'll be able to work at night too. I want to give it to her before she leaves."
"You must really like my mother," he observed, and she smiled.
"Like? That's an understatement. I love her. What's not to love? She is just too kind and funny. So, will you come to the pharmacy first and then go home to drop her off when it's time? Or will you drop her off before coming to work?" Amara asked, wondering if she should wait to go with him or go alone.
Michael understood her question, so even though he had planned to drop her off at the airport first before coming to work, he changed his mind.
"I will come to the pharmacy first," he said, since that would give him alone time with her during the drive to the house and then the drive back from the airport.
"Thank God," Amara said with a bright smile, "Are you not going to eat?" She asked, gesturing to the cooler. She wanted to see if he liked the food
Michael opened the cooler and salivated when he perceived the delicious aroma.
Amara rose and went to his refrigerator to get a bottle of water for him, and she watched as Michael took the spoon and scooped up the hot jollof rice.
The moment the taste hit his tongue, he almost closed his eyes. He wanted to keep a straight face. He really did.
But he felt his lips spreading into a smile before he could stop it.
It was so good. The rice was soft but not soggy. The pepper was just enough to give it a little bite, and the smoky flavor filled his whole mouth.
"This is…" he started, then cleared his throat, trying not to look too eager. "It's nice."
Just nice? Amara, who was still standing by the fridge with the bottle of water in her hand, tilted her head to one side as she watched him.
Michael didn't answer right away. He took another spoonful quickly, like he needed to confirm something.
The taste was even better the second time. He chewed slowly, then swallowed. He could feel the warmth of the food moving down into his chest, chasing away the little ache of hunger he hadn't wanted to admit.
He tried to set the spoon down and act with steeze. But he picked it up again without thinking and scooped a bigger mouthful.
Amara began to laugh quietly.
Michael stopped chewing and looked up. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, trying to sound serious, though his mouth was full.
"Nothing."
Michael swallowed and cleared his throat again. "The rice is very tasty."
From nice to very tasty, Amara thought with a wide smile.
"Thank you," Amara said, still smiling. She came back to sit across from him and set the water on the desk.
Michael tried to slow down his eating, but he couldn't. Every bite made him want another.
After a while, he leaned back in his chair and looked at her with a sigh. "Honestly, this rice is the best I've tasted in a long time."
Amara's smile grew wider. "From nice to tasty to the best rice you've tasted. The compliments keep getting better."
This time, Michael smiled sheepishly. "I really hate to ask, but is the rice still remaining?" His voice dropped slightly on the last word, as though he felt shy to admit he wanted more.
Amara threw back her head and laughed out loud. She could see that jollof rice was really his best food.
She would enjoy cooking for Michael as his mother had requested, if this was how he reacted to food.
"Yes, the rice is still remaining," she said with a wide smile. And if you want, I can make it for you tomorrow."
As Michael looked at her, he felt a strange flutter in his stomach that had nothing to do with the food.
He looked back down at his plate quickly. He had never really understood why they said the way to a man's heart was through the stomach, but now he could understand.
The way to his heart was through jollof rice, and if Amara hadn't already been on her way there before, she was very much on her way there now.