7. WHEN LAST?

I call dad the next morning.

I had spent the night in a fitful sleep, waking up often to pee and drink water; something that mostly occur when my emotions are painfully high. I didn't call Beth after my confrontation with 'The Dracula'. I'll be calling James's mother The Dracula from now on. The name sure fits.

Dad picks immediately, as if expecting my call. "Hey baby, you remember your old man today."

I listen to his jovial, loving voice as I lay on my bed and I wander again why he never said a word about that night. "Why didn't you tell me that woman was James's mother?"

Silence follow my question.

"She has warned you off her son then." He says finally, resignation heavy in his voice.

"What's going on dad?"

"I don't know for sure," I can hear his deep sigh on the line. "She called me to her office just now, spitting fire. She literarily told me to order you to leave her son alone. We had a really nasty argument." A short pause follows, and then, he continues. "She said he's married and the wife is pregnant." He phases it like a question, expecting me to supply answers.

"I don't have answers, dad." Just questions and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me she's your boss? I wouldn't have gone home with her son that night if I had known." I retort with another question of my own, not ready to face the reality of his question.

"I'm sorry baby," his sigh is longer this time. "I was just meeting him for the first time that night. You were just so excited about him, I haven't ever seen you like that. I just thought maybe he was the one."

I had thought so too that night. The chemistry was just too strong, the tension too high. The sex in his car that night and the steamy passion months after had made me believe it was mutual. How wrong I was. My parents have been disturbing me to at least get a man and stop fooling around, I can imagine my dad's joy when he saw me with James. "What did she say after we left." I ask dad.

"Well, I asked if she was okay with her son dating you, seeing as she was scowling throughout the introductions." He pauses, as if trying to remember.

"What did she say?" I probe in a small voice.

"She said and I quote; 'it won't be a problem for anyone if your daughter is financially and emotionally stable."

"What?" I whisper brokenly, closing my eyes in despair with my head burrowing deeper into my pillow. The Dracula had known a day like this'll come, where I'll have to step aside for the baby mama. She had handed the cheque over to me yesterday, with so much condescending triumph in her eyes, believing I was hanging on to James because of his money, and thereby convincing myself it's love.

I know how tight your situation is, and I know that's why you're all over my son...

I don't know which is more painful, that she thinks I love James for his money or that I'm such a gold digger, I'm willing to become a side chick.

"Her words were so strange. I had thought she meant her son is cold-hearted or a workaholic or something." Confusion laces his voice as he goes on, "I told her you're a big girl and can handle yourself. I sure wasn't expecting this." Dad's blaming himself.

"It's alright dad," I say, sensing load of guilt in his voice. "It's all history now. I just wanted to know."

"Didn't her son inform you of his mother?" Dad has been hissing the word her son instead of calling him James, meaning he is seriously pissed at James for breaking his precious daughter's heart. That makes me smile a little.

"He never did." My reply is carefully bland.

"Oh, I would have said something, but I figured he should, since she's his mother."

We are both silent after that, remembering everything from that night.

"How're you baby?" He asks softly after a while. "Should I come over, or will you prefer your mum?"

I roll my eyes, as a slight smile teases my lips. "I'm not a baby anymore dad, I can handle a heartbreak."

"But you're still my baby." He protests. "And I'm going to kick his ass."

My smile widen, dad is all bark and no bite. "I know." I say, then I become serious. "Please don't tell mum for now, she has a lot on her plate already."

"If you say so." We both know he'll still tell her, he has never been able to hide anything from mum, especially when it's about me.

"Rita?" He calls.

"Yes, dad.

"I almost quit today, after Helena and I exchanged words." He whispers harshly. "I was so angry, I almost quit."

Her name is Helena. Yes. I remember. Dad called her by the name that night. The name sounds cold and medieval, just like her.

"Oh dad, please don't do that because of me." Don't add to my shame and guilt, please.

"I won't, I've worked my ass out for that firm, they're not pissing me off enough to make me relinquish all my retirement benefits." He says, anger stifling his voice.

I sigh sorrowfully, my affair with James has put Dad in a tight spot, his relationship with his boss and friend will never be the same again. I wish for the hundredth time I hadn't followed James home that night.

"I'm sorry Dad, I wish all this isn't happening..."

"Hey," Dad stops what I'm about to say. "Non of this is your fault. I just wish I had known what a sleezeball he is that night, I would have kicked his ass away from my baby."

I giggle, as he means for me to. My loving and sweet Dad, always finding a way to make me smile, no matter how down I am.

"I never knew your boss is now a woman." I say lightly. I knew when his former boss died a couple of years ago, because dad was so sad during that period. I had kept in touch for days till I had ascertained he was no longer downcast. It's my shame now that I never bothered to find out who his new boss is.

"Oh, I thought you knew. I was working for her husband at first, as you know. He was about making me a director before he died. His wife took over, and she had no choice but to rely on me for important decision-making. She had no idea on how to run a pension company, but she was determined to learn. Along the way, we became friends, sort of."

"Did she still make you a director?"

"No. And frankly, I don't want it anymore."

We both stay silent after that, lost in our individual thoughts. The Dracula is truly a cold, mean bitch, I say to myself as anger for dad flashes through me. It's obvious she just used Dad to learn the ropes of the business, she never had the intentions of promoting him.

My phone buzzes against my ear, I check to see an incoming waiting call from Beth. I groan inwardly, I can't hide anything from Beth, she'll unearth the depth of my pain in a minute. "I have to go dad," I say as I listen to the tone of Beth's call waiting on the line. "Beth is calling."

"Oh, our freelancer." I can hear the fond smile in his voice. "Say hello to her for me."

I will, dad."

"And Beth?" I hear him say as I'm about to tap the end icon on my screen. "If he's making you so sad, then he's not worthy of you. My baby is too precious for leftovers, don't give away your heart so cheaply."

Tears fill my eyes and cascade down my cheeks as I think of what to say. I've already given my heart cheaply, dad. Tell me how to get it back and keep it safely locked away, where it belongs. At the end, all I can say is; "Thank you dad, I love you." My voice is shaking with the weight of my misery as I cry silently. Beth's call has ended, it starts to ring again almost immediately. "I have to go." I say firmly, "Beth is not relenting."

"Bye, Daddy loves you, okay." He sounds as sad as I feel. He ends the call from his side while I take sometime to compose myself. I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand, forgetting Beth can't see me. Then I clear my throat as I pick her call.

"Hey, babe!" I exclaim in a higher than normal voice.

Silence reigns on the line for some seconds. "Have you been crying?" Suspicion is heavy in her voice.

I stifle a sigh. Why can't I ever lie to Beth? "No!" I exclaim, and then I spoil everything with a loud sniff.

"What did the daunce do this time?" She sound like she's clenching her teeth.

I snort out a dry laugh. The Dracula has a son that is a sleezeball and a daunce. How funny is that? I laugh again, the sound dry and hollow, like all my essence has been sucked out of me. Beth is getting impatient on the line.

"It wasn't him, Beth. At least not directly."

"You're not making sense." She is shouting angrily. "What happened. You wouldn't be crying if it wasn't him."

I sigh miserably and sit up on my bed, dragging a pillow to hug. "It was his mother that visited."

Beth gasps loudly. "His mother came to your house? Why?"

"She came to warn me off her son."

Another loud gasp. "Tell me everything that happened from the beginning." Her voice is menacingly low, I can hear the underlying rage in it.

She is silent after everything I said, processing the information. "What're you going to do?" She asks suddenly.

The question jolts me. What should I do? Call James? Capital NO. He hasn't called me since yesterday, I'm not calling him to whine about his mother.

... stop calling him! Allow a pregnant woman enjoy her husband!

I close my eyes as the pain pierce my heart again. "I'm moving on Beth, I've been foolish enough for a man. Not anymore." I say with firm resolution. "I have a business to run and my life to live. I'm not wasting anymore of my precious time."

"Good choice." She replies with a sigh. "I really thought he was the one. I'm sorry Rita."

"Not your fault, Beth. I fell for the wrong man." I hug the pillow tighter.

"What's your plan for today?" She asks after a while.

"I'm thinking of staying home today, I'm not ready to face people." My clients at the salon can be very probing and gossipy. Though I'm fond of most of them, I get tired sometimes of their meddling. Even people I haven't met in the town, I already know their dirty secrets, all thanks to my nosy clients. I've learnt as an hair stylist, that older people are the worst gossips ever.

"I understand." Beth says softly. "I never did ask you, were you able to present the gift?"

I frown in confusion. "Present what gift?"

"The Valentine's gift for the moron." I know she's rolling her eyes.

I sit upright in alarm. The cufflinks! I was it when we left James's place that night, but I can't remember bringing it with me into the house. I must have left it in his car. With everything that happened that night, I totally forgot about it.

"I must have left it in his car that night." My voice is filled with anxiety. What'll he think when he sees it? A wide-eyed naive girl desperate to be loved? Sneaking gifts into his car so he won't forget her? Begging for the scrapes of love and attention he deigns to give her? Oh God.

My heart lurches as my unsettled tommy roll, I drop the phone and jump out of bed, running to the bathroom, where I kneel by the toilet seat and vomit every last thing in my system. My limbs are weak and I'm shivering when my body finally stops heaving.

I can hear Beth's loud and fearful shouts on the phone, I stand up slowly, my knees buckling beneath me. I ignore it as I force them to carry my weight, I stretch to grab the sink and rest a little. I've been feeling sick and erratically nauseated since The Dracula left yesterday, must be the shame and hurt I'm feeling deep inside.

Beth is still shouting on the line, I can hear the panic in her voice from the bathroom. I wash my mouth and face as fast as I can, avoiding my dull and hollow image in the mirror. I stagger back to the room and place the phone back on my ear as I lay back down.

"Stop shouting Beth, I'm here." My voice is weak from the heaving.

"What happened?!" She yells, fear filling her voice.

"I'm fine. My tommy hasn't been cooperating since yesterday." I explain, trying to calm her down, "it just takes me unaware sometimes. That's all."

She hesitates, breathing hard. "You're sick. I'm coming home."

"No, you dont have to_" I try to convince her I'm okay, but the line is already dead.

I groan in weary frustration, closing my eyes as I drop the phone carelessly on the bed. Having Beth cut short her trip to nag me to death isn't what I need right now, I just want to sleep and sleep.

Why am I so tired? I wonder as my eyes closes and sleep overtakes me. Am I truly sick as Beth had said? Should I go for a test or something? No, I sure was fine before The Dracula appeared. It must be the heartache. Nothing more.

________________________________________

I wake up grudgingly to the insistent ringing of my phone, I search for the offending gadget with my eyes still closed, finding it under me. I pick without checking.

"Rita, come open the door." Then she cuts.

My eyes open reluctantly and I force myself to rise. I'm bone tired and hungry. Very hungry actually, seeing as my tommy is growling repeatedly. Beth must have had her bags packed already, for her to appear here so soon. I yawn and stretch as I make my way slowly out of the bedroom to the front door. I unbolt and Beth charges in before I can say a word.

I'm left behind to close the door after her Highness. I roll my eyes as I move to the couch to lie down. Lord, I'm exhausted. Why am I this weak?

"What's wrong with your neighbours, Rita. They're so nosy. Staring at me like they've never seen me before." She stalks to the window, opening it wide, and letting fresh air into the house. Murmuring all the while. "Your house is so stuffy and dark, no wonder you're feeling sick."

I ignore her grumbling and close my eyes. The fresh air waft into the house, gently cuddling, and luring me to take a quick nap. My eyes open a slit when I feel a gentle hand on my forehead. "You look like shit," she says softly.

"I'm fine. Just want to sleep." My eyes closes again.

She snorts "It's pasts two, girl. You've slept enough."

Really? Where did the time go? It feels like I haven't slept five minutes before Beth appeared.

My tummy growl again as I will myself to remain awake. "Have you eaten anything?" She frown in concern.

I shake my head slowly. "I'm hungry but I don't have the strength to cook. Did you buy some food?" My voice is weak.

"No, I rushed here after dropping my bags at home." She turns to go to the kitchen. "Just hang on, I'll whip up something now."

I hear the clangs of pans and pots as my refrigerator opens and closes several times. I close my eyes again and drift off. The mouth-watering aroma of something frying teases my nostrils a while later, waking me up from my slumber.

"Rita, food is ready." Beth says from the kitchen. "Don't tell me you dozed off again." She chastise me as she comes closer to watch me on the couch. "Should I help you up?"

I shake my head and force myself to rise up. My weak legs tremble slightly is I straighten, my head is swimming, I close my eyes to center myself and get my head under control. "Are you alright?" Beth holds my arm to help me, her distress is obvious. "Should we go to the hospital?"

"No." I manage to say. "It's just the stress of these past weeks. I'll be fine."

I walk slowly, with the help of Beth to the dinning table, where pancakes, already dished into two plates were waiting. I take a seat while Beth takes the other. I dig into the food, eating like a starved woman, making appreciating noises as I devour on.

Beth stare at me in amazement, "I've never seen you eat like this. Whatever is wrong in your system, hunger must be at the forefront."

My hunger is depreciating, but the queasiness in my tommy remains. "Yep. I'm really hungry." My voice is stronger now. "I haven't eaten since The Dracula left yesterday."

Beth frowned. "The Dracula?"

I raise an eyebrow to her surprised one. A sneer appear on my lips "You know who."

She still looks confused, then her eyes widen, laughter starts to erupt from her throat, lasting longer than I expect. "Oh Rita," she wipes tears from her eyes. "What has James and his mother turned you into? You've grown some very sharp teeth."

I smile slightly, then change the topic. " How's Stephen."

Her smile dims noticably. "He's good." She concentrates on her food once again. "Working too hard, if you ask me."

I lean forward to eat the last of my pancake. "How are things between you two?"

"We're good. We're getting there." She glances at me from beneath her lashes, observing my countenance.

"What?" I ask, dropping my fork and picking a bottle of water.

Beth is watching me as I open the bottle. "Would you prefer energy drink? Considering how weak you are."

"No." The thought of any other drink but water is making my inside tighten with warning. "Beth, what's happening?"

"Nothing." Her reply is quick, too quick. And she's avoiding my eyes.

"When did we start lying to each other, Beth?" I frown. "Is there a problem with you and Stephen?"

She stares at her plate, the remaining pancakes abandoned. "No. We are good."

I remain silent, letting her know I won't push her for the truth. The silence is becoming loud in the little kitchen, till she can't bear it anymore. She expels her breath, like she's been holding it. "Rita. I don't want to be self-centered."

"What do you mean?"

She leans back and stare straight at me. "How can I be discussing my relationship when I know you're going through a hard heartbreak."

I frown. Is my issue with James about to affect my friendship with Rita too? No, I won't let that happen. I reach for her hands, "Beth, you're my best friend, and I love you. Yes, I'm heartbroken. And my upset tommy won't let me forget that fact. But I'll move on." I pause as tears almost choke me. "You told me not too long ago, right in this very kitchen that love and heartbreaks are normal cycle of life. I'll get over this and I'll emerge stronger."

Her hands tighten on mine as tears spill down her cheeks. "Oh, I regret saying that. I shouldn't have encouraged you to follow your heart. I really thought he was the one."

"Oh, come on Beth." I roll my eyes as I rise from my chair, moving round the table and pulling her up for a hug. "My heart was already with him even before your advice. You know that." I release her and grab her shoulders. "Don't let this put a gap between us. I want to hear every teeny little detail about your love life, and I mean everything."

Her shoulders relaxes and the little tightness around her mouth which I hadn't noticed before, softens in relieve. The sparkle that is unique to Beth starts to appear in her eyes as she smiles genuinely for the first time since she came.

"I have a lot to tell you!" She squeals.

I gather the dirty dishes and move slowly to the small sink to wash them. "I can see that. Spill away." I smile, feeling my heart becoming lighter already. Beth's joy is infectious. She pulls me away from the sink with a stern look.

"You're not washing anything today. You're still ill." She herds me back to the dining chair and forces my shoulder down till I sit heavily.

"I'm not sick, I'm just stressed." I protest.

She snorts and turn back to the sink. "Thank God you're looking better, you looked like a tired ghost when I came in."

I snort too as she speaks on. "Do you want to hear about Stephen or you'll prefer to argue?"

My ears perk up. "Tell me all the juicy details."

She laughs as she keeps on washing. "Well, we haven't had sex. If that's what you're waiting to hear."

My eyes and mouth open wide in shock as I stare at her back. "It's a lie." I gasp. "You couldn't have survived this long without sex."

Her laugh becomes louder, she wipes her hands on a napkin and turns to me. "I thought so too myself." She drops the napkin and move closer to sit down. "But I'm realizing I don't really care anymore."

My brow furrow as I stare at her in disbelief. " You. Beth. Don't really care about sex anymore." I stress each word to butress my disbelief.

"That's not what I meant." She rolls her eyes. "I'm just saying, he's paying so much attention to my every need, and that has made me to realize I was just using sex as an escape route for my emotions."

"Ookay." I drawl, since she's looking at me like she's expecting me to understand her logic. "I see."

Another eye rolling. "No, you don't see." She pauses, looking around like she's searching for inspiration. "See, I love Stephen. And he's making me realize that sex isn't love."

I nod my head. That, I can understand. If sex was love, James should be mine forever. Our sex life was hot. Very steamy.

"Let me ask you a question." Beth continues, "if Stephen had slept with me since the first day we met, do you think I'll still be with him?"

I dont need to think about it before I reply "No." When it comes to men, Beth moves on faster than water in a functioning drain.

"Now you see what I'm saying." Beth says like she's just handed the manual of life to a kid.

"Yeah, I get your point." I allow. "But don't you miss it? The sex and all."

"Of course I do." She gapes at me like I'm an idiot. Then her voice goes low, almost like a whisper. "That's why we go down on each other often." She says with a conceited smirk. "And heavy petting. And serious sexting when we're not together."

"Jesus!" I exclaim with a laugh. "You guys just go ahead and do it. What's left?" I'm still laughing at the scenerio Beth has created in my head.

"Nope. Not the same thing" She says with a lot of sassiness. "Speaking of Stephen, Where's my phone?" She turns her head around, looking for her purse. It's on the coffee table, she stands up to go get it. "He would have called or sent a text by now. I had to switch off my phone in the plane." She opens her purse and retrieves it. "He worries if he doesn't hear from me in a couple of hours."

I quickly kill the speck of jealousy that is about to rear it's ugly head in my heart. Beth is my best friend and she deserves all the love she can get. She hadn't grown up with parental love like me, being dumped in one foster home after another till she was old enough to be independent. Her childhood had greatly shaped her love life, believing no man could love her, until now. I know she's basking in the glory of Stephen's love and attention. His adoration is healing something broken inside of her, and I'm happy for her, truly.

"What're all these pieces of paper on the floor." Beth asks, pulling me out of my reverie. She stoops to pick a piece, her phone in her left hand. I narrow my eyes as I recognize the papers, my heart jerks with fresh pain and hurt, my unsettled tommy becoming worse again.

"That's The Dracula's cheque." My voice is deceptively nonchalant.

"You tore it before or after she left."

"I tore it right in her face." I can still remember the anger that simmered in her eyes as she watched me shred it to pieces close to her face. I understand now why she was angry, she would have been able to justify her belief about me being a gold digger if I had accepted the money. She sure didn't want any piece of her puzzle not fitting where it's suppose to. Where she wants it to fit.

"I like that." Beth nods with a huge smile. "Let her go inform her ass of a son."

I smile back. The smell of my body sweat drifts into my nostrils, making my tommy more queasy. I look down at my pyjamas. I haven't bathe, and I smell dirty. Surprisingly, I've never perceived my own sweat this strongly before. My sense of smell is sure hyper this days. I lean my hands on the table as I rise up to go bathe.

"I want to go shower." I say to Beth, who is waiting for her phone to come on. "I stink of_ uh oh" The nausea is coming back, fast and furious. I have just a few seconds before I dirty the whole of my kitchen floor with vomit.

Beth whips her head round to look at me, hearing the anxiety in my voice. "What is it?" She shouts as I dash past her into the bedroom. I barely make it to the toilet before the vomiting begins.

I retch and heave again and again, expelling all the pancakes Beth lovingly made for me. I'm drained when I finish, I slowly sit on the toilet tiles, too weak to move a finger. Beth put water in a bowl and sprinkle some on my face. Then she uses a face towel to wipe it off.

I open my eyes to thank her. She is crouching low before me, watching me with a worried frown. "I'm okay." I whisper, trying to ease her fears. "My tommy is just so uneasy sometimes, but it'll stop. Maybe I swallowed a bug or something."

"When last did you see your period?" She asks abruptly.

The question jounces me out of my weakness. I straighten, my eyes widening in shock and fear. My heart goes wild as different thoughts bombard my head. "What are you saying, Beth?" I whisper shakily.

She looks straight into my eyes and asks again with all seriousness.

"When last, Rita?"