Friday afternoon: a short story

Sade clutched her mug of hot chocolate to her chest as she curled up on her favourite couch, snuggled in her bath robe, her feet clad in the toe socks everyone hated tucked comfortably under her bum. That same ample derrière which she was convinced the couch had taken an impression of over the last few months.

She glanced at the clock in eager anticipation. You wouldn’t be able to tell how excited she was just by looking at her. She was a lawyer and had mastered the art of hiding her emotions. Or perhaps she was just born that way, she didn’t really know.

Twelve minutes past four. Couldn’t time go any faster? Simi should be back home sometime within the next forty minutes.

‘All right…let’s go look at my outfit for tonight again’ she said out loud.’ She downed the rest of her drink, lightly placed the mug onto her glass coffee table, then swung her legs off the couch.

She walked to her room, tightening her robe around herself. As she opened her door her eyes fell upon them lined on her chest of drawers: Nina, Lucy, Flounce, Mia, Vanity and Honey. She smiled.

Simi waited by the bus stop looking at his watch. Twelve minutes past four. Getting back home before five pm on a Friday afternoon was only for the truly lucky. He was quite happy with himself. He had managed to get through a presentation in front of his research group, and had later been told by the group lead that the funding they were waiting for had come through. This would mean that they would be able to sponsor his PhD studentship once he was done with his masters.

He couldn’t wait to get home and share his good news with Sade. More important, he had been able to pick up her gift on the way. Once the bus came he was relegated to a seat at the back, next to an old lady.

As the journey began, he noticed an odd expression on her face as she looked at the package sticking out of the bag he was carrying. ‘It’s for my sister,’ he said. She responded with a smile. Nosy old ladies.

Sade felt the hot water pouring over her skin. So soothing. As she lathered herself her fingers ran over the raised skin on her left elbow. She thought about what that scar represented.

Just over thirteen months ago she had been rear-ended into oncoming traffic. Her head and left elbow had broken through the window of her car. Thank goodness for seat belts. The medics had insisted she undergo a CT scan.

Sade rinsed off the soap and dried herself. She should probably start getting ready if she wanted to make it to dinner. She guessed it was now four thirty-ish.

‘I know mum, can you believe it? Yes, we’re still going out tonight with her friends. We’ve booked a table for seven pm. I’ll call you as soon as we get back home… Love you too.’ Simi quickly hung up the phone and paid his fair for the second bus he always used on his journey.

He would be done with his masters in three months time. This could be the perfect time for him to move into his own apartment. He had missed the crucial period at which most of the desirable places had been listed as available, but that was no one’s fault so no point in complaining.

As a PhD student he could probably get one of the nicer studio apartments on the main campus. He would have to speak with Sade and let her know he would be moving out soon, but that discussion could be saved for another day.

Today, no, this weekend was all about her. He glanced at his watch. Four thirty eight. He would have enough time to laze a bit and shower. What a great start to the weekend.

Sade’s wigs always made her happy. She’d always loved to wear her hair in braids or weaves. She looked at her array each propped up on its respective stand. They ranged from a short black pixie bob, to an ombré dark-rooted wig with honey tresses.

They were convenient, and her preference for the day was usually dictated by her mood. They all had really girly names bestowed upon them by their manufacturers. She often wondered how the names were chosen, as one couldn’t really link the name to the particular wig by any characteristic.

It had never actually crossed her mind to wear a wig till her brother had surprised her one day by coming home with one. He had always been such an independent spirit, much like herself.

They hadn’t exactly been the closest of siblings growing up, perhaps because of their six-year age difference. What had mattered though was that when she’d needed him the most, he’d been there for her.

Their current arrangement suited them both, even though she knew his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. He had moved into her luxury apartment just over a year ago.

Something she would always be grateful for was the rapid pace at which her career had taken off. In four years she had been poached by three different law firms, with each change acquiring a significant increase in salary along with stellar work experience.

Her current job had come with many benefits, even those she never thought she’d need. So she could afford to let her brother live with her rent-free. She had had to drill it through his thick skull that she would not take his money since he was the one doing her a favour.

Then one day he had come home with the first wig. He’d told her he’d seen it in the shop on the corner by the bus stop, where he bought his hair gel. The fact that her brother, this ‘manly man’ had thought to do something so wonderful for her had touched her deeply.

Over the months it became a game of sorts. On a Friday morning he would tell her he was going to buy her a wig. In the evening he would come back home with a lovely one he had randomly picked out.

It was a ten minute walk home from the bus stop. Simi couldn’t believe what a year it had been. Exactly thirteen months ago to the day, he had received a phone call from Sade, asking him to come over to her office.

He had already started feeling uncomfortable about going to see her, as she would no doubt try to send him off with some money. She had to understand that she couldn’t just throw money at him whenever she felt like it.

He was twenty-one. A full grown man. More importantly, he was smart and lived well within the means of his university scholarship. He could never quite understand her way of thinking that just because she was the older sibling and was now wealthy, she somehow owed it to their father’s memory to make sure he was well taken care of.

Perhaps in other families that would be acceptable, but their father had raised them to both be independent. How perceptions could come crashing down in an instant!

The moment he stepped into her office he knew something was wrong. After exchanging their normal pleasantries, she paused. ‘Simi’, she had said, ‘I have a brain tumour.’

Sade sat in front of her mirror looking at herself. What a difference a year makes. Aside from the chemotherapy which had induced weight loss, she had made a conscious decision to live a healthier life.

Over the past twelve months she had started eating only organic products, taken up yoga and Pilates, and given up alcohol. She had only ever been a social drinker.

The hardest thing to give up was that king of all beverages: coffee. Now she found that she didn’t even crave it. Her current craving was hot chocolate. Why had it taken something so drastic to make her realise that a healthier lifestyle was indeed far more enjoyable for her?

She traced the mound of skin where her left eyebrow should be. How many people, she wondered, would be as lucky as her? How many people would have had a brain tumour picked up by a CT scan they hadn’t even planned to have? And then after surgery and only eight months of chemotherapy, be given the all clear? How many people would be lucky enough to have been supported through this by a work family, with her job still waiting for her once her health was stable?

Sade glanced at her clock. Four fifty. Oh when would Simi get here? She started to apply her makeup.

The elevator doors opened on the third floor, and Simi jogged up to door number twelve, swiping his access card. He glanced at the wall clock as he stepped in. Four fifty two. Not bad for a Friday afternoon.

‘Simi,’ Sade called from her room through the open door, ‘I just got out of the shower but I’m decent so you can come in.’ He loved how his sister would always tell him she was ‘decent’ as if he would enter her room without her permission.

He dropped his work bag onto the living room floor and made his way to her room, taking the package out of the plastic carry bag and hiding it behind his back.

Sade turned towards him. Her head was fuzzy, her hair just beginning to grow back. She had only just applied her foundation. She was beautiful. She always had been.

Sade looked at her brother and from the look on his face knew that his funding had come through. She was good at reading people. It came with her profession. Or perhaps she was just born that way, she didn’t really know.

She wouldn’t steal this moment from him. She would let him make the announcement by himself. ‘We got the funding Sade,’ he said, ‘can you believe it? They will be able to sponsor my studentship.’

She got up and walked towards him, smiling and extending her arms. He obliged her, slightly crouching his six foot four inch frame to accommodate his much shorter sister in a hug.

During her treatment she had been so frail to hug. Now she felt stronger, and for the first time he accepted that everything would be fine. She pushed against his chest, ‘are you holding what I think you’re holding?’ she asked.

‘Yep, this is her.’

Sade grabbed the box from his hands and opened it quickly. She carefully took the wig out of its netting and brushed it while Simi sat on her bed, chuckling.

‘Oh wow, she is sassy, just what I need for tonight, and my first day back at work on Monday’ she said, as she put the wig on.

‘I thought so too’ Simi replied.

Sade sat in front of her mirror, liking the reflection of the mahogany fringe and bone-straight shoulder length.

‘What’s her name?’ she asked, as Simi was now comfortably reclining on her bed, furiously texting on his phone. No doubt sharing his good news with his girlfriend.

‘Joy,’ he replied, momentarily glancing up.

Sade turned back to the mirror and smiled at herself. ‘How apt,’ she thought.

This is a re-edited version of my story which first appeared here.

It is so humbling to have gone through and edited what just two years ago I thought was my best writing. So many errors. I feel like I’ve grown in my writing and story-telling, but more importantly I embrace every avenue of growth to come in my writing skill.

I’m also really grateful to all who have given me notes along the way on how to improve.