The water moves softly around her outstretched fingers, caressing coolly. She pulls her hand out and watches the drips, both transparent and opaque at the same time. The water runs smoothly on the green leafy vegetables in the sink as the chicken kienyeji boils noisily on the cooker. The two bedroomed apartment is a fusion of different sounds. The tap water, the boiling chicken, her humming to Luther Vandross’ song sounding from his laptop and him occasionally receiving work calls. His seated in the living room, strategically in a place where she can see him as he works, and he can see her as she cooks. Frequently calling to each other and muttering the words ‘I love you’ in between their tasks.
She closes the washroom door behind her, secretly wishing for a break from these bathroom visits. She holds her 8-month-old baby bump and caresses it under her short mustard flowered dress. She is African, dark with a curvaceous figure. The mustard makes her dark skin pop, she looks as cute as hell.
The food will be ready in a few. She could use a short break. She heads to the living room and sits on his lap and hugs him. She has gotten heavy she knows but she still wants some baby girl treatment. He kisses her and they sit in embrace for some time.
Life has been a ton different since she found out she had conceived. It wasn’t planned, no but when they both found out, it was the happiest day of their lives. They picked it up from there, adhering to clinical visits and generally preparing for their little girl. She had a whole wardrobe filled with tiny human clothes, blankets and shoes, a white baby crib and lots of baby stuff that she had bought impulsively. Everything looked like a garden patterned with bees, vegetables, fruits, birds, flowers and they smelled great too. She would make a million detours a day into the room and imagine her little tiny fragile hands in those gorgeous tiny white polka dots mittens or her in that beautiful pink onesie. They wanted their baby to have the best and they were lucky they could afford all of it and extra.
However, she wondered if sometimes he missed her the way she missed herself. A baby was a great gift but it had taken away a part of her that she doubted if she would ever recover. Did he ever miss seeing her in those sexy heels in the club? Dancing to the loud electric music. She could go like that all night long feet moving to the crazy beat like they belonged to the music, hips swaying to the rhythms and men staring. Of late, wearing sandals had become a problem. Her feet were big, gigantic is the word and don’t even talk about the dancing part! She just could not. Did he ever miss the 8-hour good sleep in the night? Her deeply asleep inside his arms till morning because his arms were the finest cocoon? Nowadays she couldn’t go two hours without a bathroom visit and at night it got worse. She hated that she had to disturb his sleep. What of the many times she could run up a five-floor stair case and not break a sweat? That is one of the reasons they got an apartment on the fifth floor, to keep fit. But now, it was hell. She would rather use the elevator, which also caused her vertigo. Or did he miss bribing her with food? The pizzas, the fries and the cakes? The only thing that seemed to uplift her mood of late was the aroma of the soil of a damp earth. She ate but couldn’t keep any food down. I mean who would have known that pregnancy would be this complicated?
The food in the kitchen hisses, an indication it’s about to burn. He kisses her on the mouth and caresses her tummy. “I love you both. Everything is going to fine.” He assures as if he had just read her thoughts. She slowly gets up like a tortoise and waddles to the kitchen like a penguin in her cute mustard short flowery dress. She is one of the luckiest.