6. BACK TO THE PRESENT

And here I am, sitting in my tiny office, remembering the past, wondering how I got here. It's been three weeks since James left my place in the early hours of the morning, with a flimsy note, informing me of his busy schedule and also ordering me to trust him.

Could he be too busy to call me? Even to say hi? And he isn't even picking!

I had stayed awake that morning, after he left, just lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling; too heartbroken to start the day. Beth had called around 10am, sounding both excited and giddy. She had breathlessly told me about her Stephen and all that transpired the night before; he still hadn't slept with her, but they had discussed till midnight, getting to know each other better.

Clearly, my bestie is in a serious relationship.

And I'm in a corny situationship.

I had listened silently as she went on and on, singing the praises of her beloved Stephen, how he didn't take her to bed, even when he obviously wanted to; how he had kissed and touched her with all his pent-up passion, but had stepped back at the last minute; saying he hadn't come just for a quick fix, and how he respected her too much for that. Beth had sounded a little disappointed when she narrated that part. If I hadn't had problems of my own, and had being a teeny bit jealous, I would have been amused at her dilemma.

She had finally noticed I wasn't talking, and had tentatively asked me about James. I had wanted to give a very short and evasive summary, but my voice had wobbled along the way, betraying the extent of my distress.

Beth had appeared at my place twenty minutes later, with pizza and wine- our remedy for misery.

I told her everything while we sat on my bed, eating pizza straight from the carton and drinking wine straight from the bottle. After listening silently- except for the munching and slurping- she advised me to have a little faith in James; "there must be a reasonable explanation for all these, I'm sure of that." She had said. "Just give him sometime to sort himself out. From what you've said so far, he has feelings for you. Trust your instincts, girl."

Her insightful advice had given me hope, boosting my confidence enough to believe in what James and I share. Beth had gone on another trip a week later, calling everyday to check up on me. I had complained to her that James hadn't called at all, she then ordered me to call him and stop whining and moping around, waiting for his call.

I've been calling, but he is not picking.

My phone rings suddenly on the table, I scramble to get it, hoping it is James.

It's my mum.

Oh God! I haven't called her since I saw her missed call that night, three weeks ago. I pick the call hesitantly, fearing the outburst that might follow.

"Hey, mum." I greet, nervously.

"I called you, you didn't pick and you never called back." Her voice is flat, without pleasantries.

I sigh, "I'm sorry mom, I have so much on my mind this days. I forgot." I apologize.

"What's the matter? You sound stressed" Even from my voice, she can discern that something is wrong with me

"Nothing serious, just business. How's grandma?" I ask, hoping to distract her.

"She's not fine," I can hear her heavy sigh through the line. "I had to rush her back to the hospital last night."

"What happened again?" I exclaim in panic. "I thought she was getting better, was that not why they discharged her?"

Mum is breathing heavily, like she's about to cry. "She wasn't getting any better. I had to take her home when she was harassing the nurses and refusing treatment."

"What?" I shout in shock. "Why would she do that?" Someone who has heart problems, and is as old as grandma, shouldn't be so difficult.

"She said she prefer to receive treatment in her home than in a clinical prison." Mum is sobbing. "I had to pay a nurse for full time home service."

I don't understand grandma most times. She can be so playful and jovial one minute, and then become harsh and moody the next. I never enjoyed visiting her when I was younger, I'd always preferred my dad's mum. She was the sweetest.

"I blame myself," my mum is still lamenting miserably. "I shouldn't have agreed with the doctor to take her home. Look where we are now."

"It's okay mum, please don't blame yourself." My voice soften. "We all know how difficult grandma gets when she wants something done her way."

I can hear her sniffing and clearing her throat to regain her control. Mum hates breaking down in tears, she believes crying is for the weak. The few times she allows herself to succumb to it, she never let it last for more than a minute. And then she'll dust herself up and carrying on to the next available topic like it never happened. "So, any man around the corner keeping you busy lately?" She teased, the emotional period over.

Yes, but he has a pregnant woman he may or may not marry. What will mum do if I say that out loud? I almost giggle at my crazy thought "No man yet." I reply.

"Have you gone to visit your dad recently?" She's changing the topic again. I roll my eyes in resigned annoyance. When discussing with my mum, you just have to go with the flow.

"Uh_ no." I reply, guilty as charged.

"That's not nice, you know he'll be lonely without me." She admonishes. I decide to hold my tongue. Knowing dad, he'll be stuffing himself full with his favourite carbs and drinks, the ones mum had refused him taking when she was around. "Do you at least call him?" She asks again.

"Er_ yes, we talk." I don't add that we haven't spoken in over a month.

"That's good. I just wanted to hear from you." I can hear the rustle of her clothes as she stands up from wherever she's sitting. "I'll go check on grandma now. Don't be a stranger."

"Alright mum, give my love to grandma. Take care of yourself, bye."

I cut the call and stare at my phone.

Should I call him again? He might pick this time.

I open my call log to redial him, it starts ringing, and surprisingly, he picks on the first ring. "Hello Rita?" He sounds tired.

"Hi James." My heart is beating faster now, "Uhm, I've been calling you."

"My phone was on silent." I can hear him mumbling something to someone, I listen hard, but I can't quite catch what he's saying. "Excuse me for a moment, Rita." He says to me... then I'm being put on hold.

I stare at my phone in outrage. He just put me on hold, like I'm some unimportant lowlife, begging for a little out of his valuable time.

Or could he be with her right now? Maybe he has married the pregnant girl.

Suddenly, I feel drained.

I'm done with this nonsense! I can't live my life like this, in doubts and worries and second-guesses. I'm too young for all this man drama. I'll become dour and crancky like grandma before I'm thirty-five if I continue like this.

I give up. I'm so over this. I leave him for his baby mama, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold, and bla bla bla.

I am about to end the call in anger when I hear him again on the line. "Rita? Are you still there?" I remain silent, trying without success to calm my racing heart. "I know you're still there, I can hear you breathing." He continues calmly, "I'm so sorry I put you on hold like that, I had to attend to something very important." I remain silent, fuming on the inside. Obviously, something or someone, more important than me.

"So, how have you been?" He asks anxiously, perceiving my anger.

"As a matter of fact, I'm fine." I reply with fake cheeriness. "I was just wondering how you are doing, and since you're clearly doing so fine, I'll leave you to your mountain of workload."

"Rita..."

"And come to think of it," I continue, in all sweetness. "I left my own business, with my numerous clients waiting for me out there, to do something as silly as to call you. I'm sure not taking my career seriously." My voice is dripping sacarsm with the last words.

"Please, Rita. Let me_" his voice is rising in alarm.

"You know what James," I cut him off abruptly. "Focus on your business, while I focus on mine!" I hiss and end the call.

I rise up suddenly from my seat, my anger surging me forward. I straighten my dress and smoothen my hair, it is time I forget about men and focus on my life. I stride towards my office door, ready to rejoin my staff, and return to my business out front, where I can still hear the hums of hair dryers and clippers, working relentlessly.

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My neighbourhood is lively as I stroll towards my house at the end of the day, I had told the taxi man to stop at the junction, I need some fresh air in order to clear my head and put some things into perspective. Children playing outside greet me as a walk by, grannies are sitting in twos and threes, watching the children as they play, and gossiping among themselves. They all notice me as I pass by, some stop whatever they are discussing to stare at me. I know I've become a source of gossip in area since my argument with James three weeks ago, but I'm too tired to care. I walk on by them all, with my head up high.

My phone is ringing in my bag, I stop to bring it out, I can see Beth's name flashing on the screen; I pick it and resume walking.

"Hey, girl." I greet, as I wave to some children skipping in front of a house.

"Hi, babe." The blare of car horn shriek into my ear, making me wince.

"Where are you?" I ask, as I walk past a parked car, slowing down to check my face briefly in the windows.

"I just got down from taxi, I'm about to go into my room at the hotel." Her voice becomes clearer as the noise reduces, she's noticeably inside the hotel building. "So how was your day? Did you call him as I said?" She asks.

"I did." Some teenage boys smile at me as they pass by in the opposite direction, I return their smile. "He didn't pick at first; after a few tries, he finally picked."

"Ookay," she drawls. The click of key unlocking a door filters into my ear. "What did he say?"

"He put me on hold." I say flatly, without emotion. My pace is increasing as my agitation increase, my heartbeat jacks up a little as I remember James's impudence and total disregard.

Beth is silent for a while, processing what I said. She is obviously in the bathroom as every sound is beginning to echo.

"What then happened?" She asks softly.

"I got angry, gave him a piece of my mind and cut the call." I reply calmly, turning into the lane that lead to my house.

My house came into view, and I can see a black saloon car parked in front. Who might that be? I wonder. Could it be James? My heart is soaring in anticipation as I walk faster, eager to get home. For James to leave everything to come find me, knowing how unhappy he made me, he must have serious feelings for me.

Or he's just trying to keep his side piece happy.

My excitement dim a little as the thought creeps into my mind. Beth is saying something on the line,"Beth," I say urgently. She pauses whatever she is saying. "There is a car parked in front of my house. I can see it from afar."

"Oh, is he the one?" Her voice is hopeful.

"I don't know, this is not his car that I know." I frown as I get closer.

"That doesn't mean anything." She points out. "Just don't be too hard on him, okay. You must mean so much for him to be there right now."

Why is she making it seem like I'm the one at fault, and I have to pamper him to stay. "I'm not desperate for a man, Beth. Stop making me look desperate." Annoyance is obvious in my voice.

"Yeah, but you're desperately in love." She retorts, then added softly. "I just want you to be happy, alright."

"Yes, I know." I'm almost at my place and I can see the car better. It's sleek and shiny, glossy without any sign of scratch. It's newness is obvious even from my distance. No one I know drives such a flashy car. "I'll call you later, Beth. I'm almost home." I say urgently.

"Alright, call me okay." She says and I quickly end the call. I'm close enough to notice the windows are tinted really dark, that stalls me a little. Why is James driving a seriously tinted car. The car engine is on, which means whoever brought the car is still inside. My pace reduces as I reach the trunk, trying to decide whether to rap on the window or wait for whoever is inside to notice me and come out.

The back door opens suddenly, and a very feminine leg and shoe appears. I stare at the leg and shoe in wonder. The body attached to the leg steps out of the car and turn to glare at me. My heart plummets as my eyes widen in shock.

It's James's mother.

She eyes me from head to toe, a distinctive sneer on her lip "From the look on your face, I can see you remember me." She says in a cold voice.

I remain silent, the shock of seeing her here still coursing through me.

"Do you have enough manners to at least invite me inside? Her gaze is colder and scornful.

It strikes me again that I've seen her somewhere before, her eyes are too cold and assessing for me to totally forget. Where have I seen her before? I can't seem to remember.

"How did you know my house?" My voice is a little louder than a whisper, and shaky, very shaky.

She laughs, low and raspy. "The silliest question. How I knew her house?" She looks around my house and neighbourhood in scornful disdain. "If you can call this a house."

My face concorts in anger. How dare she malign my place? It might not be as big and flashy as where she lives, but it's mine! I open my mouth to put her in her place but she lifts a finger in warning and I shut up.

"I don't mind you airing your very dirty linen outside, but I take exception to my name being mentioned in the mix." She says in a voice so calm, you'll think we're actually discussing linens.

I turn to see a couple of my neighbours staring, their eyes and mouth open wide at the scenerio playing right before them. I stifled a sigh, I'm gradually becoming a regular source of entertainment in my laid back neighbourhood.

I turn angrily and storm towards my front door, leaving her Royal Highness to decide if she wants to come in or fuck off. I'm so furious, I don't care about my language. She and her idiotic son have done enough already, I'm not giving them any chance to do more.

I enter my house and barge into the bedroom, dropping my bag on the bed and kicking off my shoes. My bladder is full, so I jerk the bathroom door open to relieve myself, all the while fuming. I can hear the click of her high-heel stepping around in my sitting room as I wash my hand in my small bathroom sink. I look at my face in the mirror and force myself to take a deep breath.

You've done nothing wrong, Rita. Do not let her intimidate you. I say to my image in the mirror.

"What do you want?" I ask straight off as I step back into my sitting room. She has her back to me, staring at the picture of my grandma, my parents and me, on the opposite wall. She spins around gracefully, her eyes narrowing as I stride easily towards her, my shoulders rigid and my eyes spitting fire.

"I've been wondering where I knew you from, but now it's all clear." Her tone is deceptively soft. "You're Henry's daughter."

"So?" I scoff, folding my arms over my breasts and eyeing her sternly.

"Ah," she sighs, shaking her head as if she is already regretting what she's about to say. "You see, your father is a senior staff in my firm." She stresses each of the word for effect. "And I also consider him a dear friend."

I frown in confusion, trying to piece her words, my eyes widen as it all dawn on me. I point at her. "You're the woman that night, with my dad."

Her smile is menacing. "Finally! I was begining to wonder when you'll catch on."

I move back a step, trying to gather my wits. Dad had introduced me to her that night, but he never said who she was. James didn't talk to her at all, and he never made it known that they were related. Mother and son had exchanged strange, hostile looks that night, before he had whisked me away. I had wondered what the looks were all about, but had promptly forgotten about it as I was swept off in a sizzling hot romance.

Why hadn't James said a word? He'd had the opportunity the last time we were together, in this very house, three weeks ago, to discuss is mother with me. And dad had also known James was her son, why didn't he say anything? Dad had asked a couple of times when we talked on phone after that night, how my relationship with James was progressing. I had always answered with a simple 'fine', never going into details.

She had said 'her firm', does that mean she owns the pension firm dad works in? Oh God! This just keeps getting better and better.

"Oh dear!" She says in a sickening sweet voice. "So many thoughts going through that pretty head of yours."

I want to rest my suddenly weak legs somewhere but I dare not show any form of fear or weakness. I close my eyes, not wanting her to see the depth of my despair.

"Well, I can answer some questions for you." She continues, folding her hands at her back. "Yes, I'm James's mother; and yes he is my son. Also yes, I own that firm. Though it's more of a family business, but that's just semantics, since I'm the only one willing to run it." She is talking slowly, like she's instructing a child.

"You must be wondering why James never introduced us that night, well, I'll like to clear your confusion." She moves closer till we're almost touching, "he knew you'll be nothing more than a fling, because he already had a pregnant fiancee, and he knew he'd be marrying her soon."

Anger and pain surge through me, I bring my face closer to hers. "That's not true!" I say in an angry whisper. "He told me he didn't get that woman pregnant, and infact, he has never touched her."

"And you believed him?" Her eyes widen in dramatic surprise as she laughs sarcastically. "You believed a man who'll say anything just to get into your panties? Just to blow off some steam before tying the knot?"

My sharp intake of breath shows she's hit a raw nerve. She presses on, turning the screw more. "I took you to be a wise girl, but, tsk, tsk, tsk. What'll your father say if he finds out you're willing to become a mistress to his boss's son?"

"Enough!" I scream, not caring if my neighbours can hear me. "Why are you here?" My hands are shaking terribly, I knot them together to hide it.

Her face becomes as hard as stone, I can see the cold fury lurking in her eyes. "I want you to leave my son alone." Her words spins out like a whiplash. "Stop disturbing him, stop distracting him, stop calling him. Allow a pregnant woman enjoy her husband!"

She brings out her phone, taps crisply on the screen and turns it to face me. Right there before my very eyes is the image of James and the pregnant woman, his hand around her shoulder, and they are smiling happily into the camera. The image extends below their chests, just before their bellies.

She removes the phone from my face and returns it to her purse. I want to snatch it back and stare at it again, just to be sure I'm not seeing double. There must be a mix up somewhere. It can't be him in that picture, it just can't.

"That's their post wedding picture." Her smile is smug and condescending. "I would've brought one from the wedding itself, but I figured that might be too much for you to handle."

"What. He has married her? I don't believe you." I voice wobble as I feel all my strength drain from my body.

She eyes me pityingly and humiliation washes through me. "You should ask him and not me." She replies coldly.

She opens her purse and begin to rummage through it. She brought out a sheet of paper and hands it to me. I accept it, still in shock over the news of James's marriage.

"I know how tight your situation is, and I know that's why you're all over my son." Her tone is patronizing, as she looks with contempt around my small home. "That is a token for you, to get over him and you know, grow your business and move on with your life."

I try to process what she's saying as I stare at her blankly. "Go on, read it." She says with a smile that don't quite reach her eyes. I stretch out the paper to read, my eyes widening as shock and rage course through me.

She had given me a check of five thousand dollars.

I lean towards her menacingly, her legs move back a step as a hint of fear appear on her face. I lift the paper up and begin to tear it to shreds, my eyes never leaving hers. "I." shred. "Do." shred. "Not." shred. "Love." shred. "Your." shred. "Son." shred. "For." shred. "His." shred. "Money."

Her eyes arrow in annoyance and her lips tighten as the pieces of the check flutter down to her feet. "Your loss then!" She snaps. "You could have achieved a lot with that money. You wouldn't have needed to be chasing rich young men around anymore."

I move with lightening speed towards my front door, jerking it open as I turn to her. "Out! Now!" I bark, pointing to the street.

"Just heed my advice, young lady. It's better_"

"Get out of my house!" I shout in a blinding rage.

She stares at me for a while and strides out as silently and gracefully as she strode in, only the sound of her heels clicking on the tiles. I close the door and rest my back on it, my knees buckle and I slide down, sitting heavily on the floor. I am shaking all over, the urge to vomit is so strong as nausea overtakes me. I rest my head in between my knees and gulp in air steadily into my lungs as I try hard not to expel my lunch.

I close my eyes and wonder in anguish,

Just what have I done to deserve this?