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Sunday, March 12, 2017

Finding Hubby (15)


Almost as soon as Toke hung up, a text message came into my phone. I quickly opened it, thinking it was some follow up gist.

 I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a message from Hawt Pastor, asking that I ensure I did not miss church for any reason the next day, since it had been so long ago he had seen me in church.

The next day, I went to church again after a long time. After the wedding thing, in which I had deliberately chosen not to follow his (sound) advice, our relationship had been sort of frayed.

So I was surprised when I woke up that morning and saw his second sms. I really didn’t have much to do anyways, Gloria was going to see her mum and since Toke was still cooped up with Mr. Oga, I wasn’t expecting her back anytime soon.

So rather than stay at home and cradle a bottle of JC Leroux, I decided to go to church.


I decided on a very comfy look for church. Jeans, flats, top and a jacket. Nothing elaborate, nothing gengen, I really couldn’t be bothered.

 If I had any other interesting option of what to do, I would probably not have gone to church that day.

But all that changed when I got to church and the service started. I have missed my church. The praise and worship was heavenly and the congregation was on point as usual.

 Everything gelled like a well rehearsed concert, the way CD John of blessed memory describes Island church services.

One interesting thing though; I could pick out all the ladies who had come to church hoping to find husbands by casual observation. There was something about their dressing, the overstated alleluias and something else I just couldn’t place a name on.

 In a way, it was so obvious, it was funny. If I could see it this easily, wouldn’t it be so damn easy for the men to see it just as easily? I wonder, I just wonder. Just a few months ago, I was exactly like that, I thought ruefully. My recent experiences and heartaches have matured me sha (Oyin, clap for yourself).

As the service played out, my mind couldn’t help racing over various reasons why Hawt Pastor wanted to see me. As soon as the service was over, one of the fine ushers came and informed me that the pastor would be having a meeting with the building committee and after which he would see me.

She handed me a note personally written by the Hawt Pastor himself. “I’d like to finish all business before seeing you, as I would like this meeting to be very private. I’ll make the meetings very brief. Thanks”.

 I fiddled with my BB for a bit and read status updates, then went through my timeline on twitter and then my FB wall. By the time I had gone through this, the church had emptied.

This time I waited, instead of rushing up and forming pastor’s special convert (claps for herself again internally. Okay, I watch waaaay too much Ally Mcbeal). A few moments later, the same usher came back and informed me that the pastor would now see me.

 I followed her through rows of seats and up the stage stairs towards the office area. She asked me if I knew my way to the office and I nodded a yes. She then left me.

 I kept wondering what was going on. She had obviously been instructed to allow me come on my own. I am not paranoid, but after all sorts of things we have read, e reach to think these things.

Anyway, I kept going and knocked lightly when I got to the door. Hawt Pastor’s familiar baritone came through “Come in Oyin”.

As I made to open the door, my phone rang. It was Toke. I wondered why she was calling me now. I would return her call when I was done here.

“Oyin are you there?” he called out, his voice closer to the door now. The door opened before I could get it, and Hawt Pastor stood before me, sleeves rolled up, tie lose, but still with the rugged hotness that made him Hawt. “Hi Oyin”, he cooed. “Would you come in please?”

 Toke called again and I quickly turned off the ringer.

***

I went into the empty office and he came in close behind me. I quickly sat down in one of the two visitor’s seats opposite his big seat, expecting him to go and seat in his own seat opposite me.

When he leaned against the table on my own side, I became very worried. My eyes darted to the door, to ensure that he hadn’t bolted it from inside. It wasn’t bolted. That was a bit of relief.

He began. “Oyin, I know you have been through a lot in the last few months, in trying to settle down. I’m sure there’s a lot more that has happened than the little I know, but even that little is a lot.”

I nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“I have a proposition to make, and no matter how difficult and hurt you might be at first, I want you to really consider it first before making a decision. In fact, I will not rush you into making such a decision.”

He then placed a hand on my shoulder, and the alarm bells in my head rose to an alarming level. I began to shake my head and began mumbling. “this cannot be happening, this cannot be happening, not you too, not you too”. How could Hawt Pastor want to be setting coded P with me? The thought was repulsive in every way I could consider.

“What, Oyin? I asked you to listen to the proposal before jumping to a conclusion.” With that, I heard the door open and as I turned back, I saw a familiar figure enter but I couldn’t make out the face initially, since it was silhouetted.

Then I saw who it was and I let out a sigh and then a shocked “What!” the sigh was a sigh of relief. Relief that flooded me that what Hawt Pastor wanted was far away from what I had begun to assume that he wanted. Then the shock was because of the person that just entered.

***
Standing right in front of me, was Femi Tosh.

I jumped up from my seat as he approached; and lashed out at Hawt Pastor, not caring that he was my spiritual leader.

 I was that enraged by the sight of Femi. The memories of the night I had hung my hopes out in the wind and he left me high and dry looking like a fool rushed back into my mind vividly as if I was still sitting at that table. I was not ready to hear whatever he had to say.

“Is it because of this vindictive fool you brought me here? This grown man who was so immature that he had to play boyish tricks to get back at me in my most vulnerable spot?”

Then I turned on Femi himself. “And you are still a child, if you want to talk to me, and you cannot come yourself, you had to go through somebody else. I don’t even want to hear what you have to say.” I began to cry. I cry when I get very angry and emotional over anything.

Hawt Pastor tried to calm me down, but I wasn’t having any of it. I really am tired of all these men walking in and out of my life and feeling like they make me complete.

So now that he has come, I should be happy he has come and I should rejoice and be glad at the prospects of being married? The last few months have taught me that if I cannot be with you even if we were never going to marry, then I shouldn’t want to marry you.

I stormed out of the office angrily, not bothering to conceal the tears streaming down my face. I unconsciously wished that Femi would follow me pleading, but I was alone all the way to the car. Unserious nonsensical somebody!

To Be Continue...

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