Braids Take a Day, page 11
I understood that we were years apart in age, but in just three weeks’ time I would be eighteen and most definitely could make my own choices about where I go and with who.
‘Teenagers are the same all over the world,’ Folake said, laughing at my poor attempt at an excuse.
Relief washed over me as I realised she wasn’t judging me or angry. ‘Yeah, well, I guess I just wanted a bit of an escape, you know? Things have been a bit complicated lately.’
And just like that, I found myself opening up to her about everything that had happened since my dad left for Nigeria. I shared the whirlwind of emotions I’d been experiencing, from my confusing friendship with Sinéad, the unexpected kiss with Jack, the uncertain nature of Clara, the creeping anxiety of going to college soon and the mixed feelings it had all stirred up.
As I spoke, I realised how freeing it was to have someone to confide in who didn’t particularly know those involved.
Folake listened patiently, occasionally interrupting to ask thoughtful questions or give encouraging responses. It was as if the act of sharing my thoughts aloud was helping me process them and gain a clearer perspective on my own feelings.
This must be how people who go to therapy feel.
When I finally finished recounting my story, I let out a deep breath, feeling lighter as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
‘Wow,’ Folake said, her voice still gentle. ‘You’ve been through quite a lot in such a short time. From the sounds of it, you needed to let it all out.’
I nodded, happy to see she understood. ‘Yeah, I just … I don’t know what to make of everything. It’s like I’m stuck in this confusing web of questions and uncertainties.’
Folake smiled warmly, her eyes offering reassurance. ‘Life has a way of throwing us curve balls, Abi. You’ll find your way through it. Sometimes, all we need is a bit of time and perspective.’
This sounded like a more mature version of what Clara was trying to tell me.
‘So, do you think I should talk to Sinéad again?’ I asked her, wanting a bit more guidance on the matter.
Folake leaned back in her chair, letting the sun warm her face. ‘Communication is key in any friendship and relationship. If something is bothering you, it’s important to address it. But remember, timing matters too. Be calm and open to all possibilities when you go to talk to her.’
I picked up a strand of Folake’s hair and started braiding it. ‘I think you’re right! I should at least hear what she has to say for herself, but I’m scared.’
‘Give your friendship the chance it deserves,’ Folake advised. ‘Things aren’t always as they seem.’
We continued our conversation as I worked on Folake’s hair, discussing everything from her own teenage friendship dramas to my cravings for Nigerian dishes. She even promised to whip up some of them when I dropped by next time. The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the garden.
Finally, I was on the last braid, letting out a sigh of relief.
‘Ta-da! All done!’ I announced, stretching my fingers that had gotten a bit cramped.
I stepped back, taking in my handiwork with a sense of pride. Each line of cornrows was perfectly symmetrical and neatly aligned. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight of my work.
With all the juice from earlier, my bladder was also now demanding my attention and I needed to run to the bathroom.
‘It’s the second door in the hallway, just under the stairs,’ Folake directed.
‘Thanks! I’ll be right back.’
Walking down the hallway, I stopped to take in the vibrant artwork on the wall. I made a note to ask Folake if she’d painted it.
I entered the bathroom and took a moment to look at myself in the mirror. My reflection showed a girl who had been through a lot in the past few days, but also a girl who was starting to feel better. I smiled and my reflection smiled back at me.
As I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face, I thought about what Folake had said. Communication, timing and being open to all possibilities. It all made sense, and I realised that I needed to approach my future conversation with Sinéad with an open heart and mind. Maybe I overreacted and it wasn’t what it looked like at all.
I didn’t return directly to the kitchen; curiosity got the better of me. The door across from the bathroom was slightly open and the lights were on. I wanted to see what the interior looked like.
I opened the door a bit more and peeked my head in. The room was small; a large desk and chair sat in the centre, scattered with sketches and papers. This must be her home office. The walls were covered with colour swatches, sketches, and interior mood boards, highlighting a project she must currently be working on. A small shelf was lined with design books, trinkets, and even more art supplies filled the space.
I opened the door more and stepped inside. It reminded me of the Art Room at St Enda’s, vibrant and chaotic. On another wall, there was a corkboard filled with Polaroid pictures, postcards, and little notes.
I knew I shouldn’t have, but I wanted to see where the postcards were from, so I moved closer. The postcards showcased a variety of places: the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a colourful market in Marrakesh and the serene beaches of Bali.
Then I looked closer at the Polaroids, most of which showed a gathering of people at what looked like a wedding.
My gaze lingered on one picture in particular. Folake was holding a bouquet of flowers. She wore a flowing white silk dress with delicate spaghetti straps. Instead of a traditional veil, a regal silver crown adorned her afro. She stood beneath a flower arch.
It wasn’t just Folake’s wedding look that captivated me, it was the presence of the older man beside her. He stood there in a cream-coloured suit, smiling with pride, his arm firmly wrapped around Folake’s waist. His eyes, thin but piercing, stared back at me as though he knew what I was thinking.
He always knew what I was thinking. This was my dad.
Chapter Twenty-One
In Another Life
My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at the picture. My mind couldn’t fully process what I was seeing. It couldn’t be a coincidence. There was my dad, standing beside Folake on what appeared to be their wedding day. The realisation that my dad had kept such a massive secret from me was like a punch to the gut.
All the pieces started to fall into place. Folake wasn’t just a stranger who had liked a picture on my Instagram page. She knew exactly who I was. She must have, and she’d been pretending not to this entire time. She purposely didn’t mention that she was married. Married to my dad.
When did all of this even happen and why didn’t he tell me? My mind raced with questions, each one more overwhelming than the last.
I stumbled out of the room, my heart pounding in my ears. I could hear Folake’s footsteps getting closer. She was in the kitchen now.
‘You OK, Abi?’
Her voice sounded like it was ringing in my head. I felt so exposed, so weak.
I just stood in the hallway, which Folake was now also in. Her expression changed from concern to confusion she looked to the open door of her office and then to me. It still hadn’t clicked.
‘Abi, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
I still just stood there, shaking my head, struggling to find the words to explain, but I needed to know for sure. ‘In your office, I saw my dad. In a picture. You and my dad …’ My voice trembled with every word.
Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected me to find out or make the connection on my own. She took a step towards me, trying to compose herself, carefully thinking about her next words. ‘Abi, I … I didn’t want you to find out like this.’
‘Is this why you’ve been asking me to talk to my dad … because of this?’ my voice wavered as I fought to hold back angry tears. I felt pathetic.
Folake sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. ‘Yes, Abi, I didn’t want to get too close to you before he had a chance to explain.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I managed to choke out. ‘Why didn’t Dad tell me?’
Folake’s eyes met mine, her expression pained. ‘Abi, I know this is a lot to take in. I wanted to give your dad the chance to talk to you himself, I didn’t think it was my place, I didn’t want to overstep …’
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, but only one question sprang to mind.
‘How long …’ I wasn’t even able to get the big ‘M word’ out.
‘Your dad and I got married in Nigeria last year, he told me about you and wanted to wait till he felt you were ready to meet me.’
They had been married for A YEAR!
My anger was still bubbling just beneath the surface, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. ‘So, you both decided it was better to just keep me in the dark … that’s evil.’ Embarrassment crept in, making me question if I should have seen the signs, if I was too naive or trusting. I felt foolish, tricked, like a pawn in some elaborate game that I never signed up for.
Folake’s face twisted in anguish, her hands reaching out to me, but I sidestepped her touch. ‘Abi, I didn’t want it to be like this. When you came up on my Instagram, I didn’t even realise I had liked your picture, I didn’t want to hurt you or have things get complicated like this, but when you followed me and messaged, you seemed so sweet and seemed like you needed someone to talk to. I shouldn’t have encouraged it or even messaged back, but …’
‘Hurt me? It’s a bit too late!’ I scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh escape my lips. ‘So, when I was telling you about my life … you didn’t think you could have mentioned it then? Or were you just secretly practising to be my mom?’ Even saying it made me wince in disgust. I couldn’t believe I told this woman, this stranger, so much about myself while she looked me in the eye and pretended to know nothing.
The memories of our conversations replayed in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything I shared with Folake, every piece of myself I exposed, was now tainted. I questioned if Folake genuinely cared about me or if our interactions were nothing more than a calculated act. Did she ever like me for me, or was I just a means to an end, a way for her to gather information for my dad?
Folake’s shoulders slumped, and her voice was soft, heavy with guilt. ‘Abi, I know how it all sounds, I got too excited when you reached out and I wasn’t thinking logically. I had heard so many wonderful things about you from Deji, I mean your dad. Then meeting you for coffee was so wonderful so when you reached out again … anyway, it doesn’t matter now, I’m completely at fault, I shouldn’t have rushed it.’
My anger was tinged with sorrow now. The woman I had come to trust, the one who had offered me advice and a listening ear, had kept this life-altering truth hidden. How could I have been so blind? Was it so easy for Folake to deceive me, to pretend to be a friend while hiding such a monumental secret?
My dad was just as guilty. He had built an entire life outside of me. It felt like the ground beneath me was shifting.
I turned away from Folake, my fists clenched at my sides. ‘I can’t be here anymore …’ I said, on the verge of breaking down there and then.
Folake just nodded. She couldn’t say anything to redeem herself and I wasn’t ready to listen to anything else she had to say. This truth had broken my ability to trust even my own family, let alone this woman.
I walked and I walked and I walked until eventually my surroundings shifted. The charm of Lahinch faded into the background, replaced by the steady hum of the motorway and swaying trees.
As the distance grew between me and Folake’s house, all I felt now was a deep ache of hurt. I had considered Folake a friend, someone I could confide in and trust, but it was my dad’s role in all this that pained me the most. I felt the loss of a version of my dad that I thought I knew.
The traffic rushed past, and I had to sit under a bus shelter to steady my breath.
Breathe, Abi. Breathe.
Tears built up in my eyes for the second time that week and I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand, my gaze shifting from the passing cars to the evening sky above. Everything felt so uncertain, much like my own future. It was clear that things would never go back to being the way they were.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, jarring me from my thoughts. Dad was calling. I would have to confront him eventually, but for now, all I could do was focus on breathing and on putting one foot in front of the other.
I only needed one thing right now and that was my best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Silly Goose
‘You look awful,’ was the first thing Sinéad blurted out as I stumbled through the door of the launderette. ‘What’s going on? I’ve been calling your phone! I’ve been worried about you, I even considered storming your house,’ Sinéad exclaimed.
I let out a shaky breath, feeling a lump forming in my throat. ‘It’s … it’s a long story,’ I managed to say, my voice betraying the tears I had been shedding.
Sinéad’s expression softened, and she pulled me into a comforting hug. ‘Well, I’ve got time. Spill the beans.’
I hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words to begin. ‘Dad … he’s got a wife,’ I finally blurted out, realising that diving into the heart of the matter was the only way to start.
Sinéad’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Wait, what? Your dad has a wife? Since when?’
I sank into a chair at the back of the launderette, feeling drained from the hour-long walk along the motorway into town. Sinéad joined me, waiting for an explanation.
‘I found out today. I was at Folake’s place, a lady I met at Ryan’s Café, well, I met her first online. Anyway, it turns out she’s … she’s my dad’s wife.’
Sinéad’s jaw dropped. She was stunned trying to keep up with the story.
‘What? Hold on, back up. So, this Folake woman you met on the internet is married to your dad? How do you know for sure? Did you ask your dad?’
‘I don’t have to, I saw their wedding picture in her house and Dad has been calling me on the phone since,’ I said, pulling out my phone to show her the thirteen missed calls from his number.
Sinéad’s eyes widened with disbelief. ‘Abi, that’s … that’s crazy. Why would your dad keep something like this from you?’
I shrugged helplessly, searching for the answer to that question myself. ‘I don’t know, Sinéad. I’m just … I’m so angry and confused right now. Everything’s a mess.’
Sinéad put her arm around me, offering comfort. ‘I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling right now. But one thing’s for sure, you need to talk to your dad. Get his side of the story.’
‘Are you dating Jack?’ I asked. I didn’t mean to blurt it out so abruptly, but it was still a pressing thought in my mind and since today was all about uncovering truths, I might as well know now.
Sinéad’s eyes widened in surprise at my sudden change of topic and then she burst into laughter, she seemed amused. ‘Me? DATE JACK? Have you gone mad?’
Why was she laughing at me, couldn’t she see that I was being dead serious? I know what I saw.
‘I was coming to see you the other day, but instead I caught you both outside here, laughing, then you hugged, and you looked super happy about it,’ I explained, feeling a bit awkward now that I admitted I was spying on them.
Sinéad continued to chuckle, shaking her head. ‘Oh, Abi, you’ve got quite the imagination. Trust me, there’s nothing romantic between Jack and me. He was asking me where he should take you on a date and I made a joke about him messing it all up since it would be his first time actually trying to impress a girl. The hug was friendly. I was laughing and smiling at the idea of both of ye being so nervous when it’s so obvious there’s something there …’
Realisation hit me like a ton of bricks. I had let my assumptions get the best of me, and in the process, I could have damaged my friendship with Sinéad. I felt a pang of regret for not trusting her and for not giving her a chance to explain. I also didn’t know whether to mention I had accidentally started a false rumour about this in Clara’s circle.
‘I’m so sorry, Sinéad,’ I said sheepishly. ‘I shouldn’t have assumed things without asking you first… but you were avoiding me, and I figured that was the reason.’
Sinéad’s expression softened, and she reached out to place a reassuring hand on my shoulder. ‘You’re right, I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want my own issues to ruin your joy. The truth is, I’ve been feeling pretty down and sad about everyone else heading off to college soon, we both know I’ll be stuck here doing the same old things for God knows how long.’
She sighed. ‘I ran into one of the girls from my art class when I was at Electric. She’ll be applying for a scholarship to the National College of Art and Design, and I swear it, she can’t even draw a straight line. It just hit me that I never even considered that as an option for myself because you know … I’ve haven’t got as many coins in my piggy bank.’
I hadn’t thought of it like that, I’d been thinking Sinéad just didn’t care about school and college. I had been so caught up in my own world that I hadn’t even realised that she too might be struggling with thoughts of the future.
‘I didn’t know you felt like this … and for what it’s worth, if anyone should be going to art school, it’s you, your lines are very, very straight,’ I said, making us both laugh.
I knew that no matter where life takes us, I definitely didn’t want to ever lose Sinéad as a friend.
‘Abi, you do seriously need to talk to your dad … maybe when you get some answers, all of this won’t seem so bad?’ she said, reminding me of the other big mess in my life that I still had to deal with. I doubted her words, but I nodded my head to show that I was listening.
