KEEPER; a love story
FEBRUARY 14, 2024
“Stanley? What are you doing here?” she asked in shock. “I…well…Can we sit?” “Not until you tell me what is going on.” “I can explain…” “You had better. Is this a form of joke?” “Calm down, Dee. We have…” “You can’t tell me to calm down when you are bent on joking with my life, Stanley!” “We have an audience, Dee. I can explain. Let’s sit down.” “I’m not moving an inch until you explain. Stanley, this is my life! My love life! What are you doing?”
“What I should have done last year. Desola, we have an audience. Please sit, and I promise to explain what I am doing. Oh, Lord! Are you crying? Please, don’t. I am not planning to hurt you.” “But you are here instead of Kunle. What more hurt do I need?”
“Kunle is here,” Stanley replied in haste. “Oh.” “Yeah. Will you sit down now?” “Where is he?” “Who? Kunle?” “Yes. I am supposed to be on a blind date with him, remember?” “Yeah.” “Yeah? That’s all? Stanley, you picked my dress, drove me to the saloon, prayed all would go well, and yet come sabotage it all.”
“Desola, don’t think like that. See, people are raising phones. Please, don’t cry. Do your feet hurt? You usually scrunch your face when they hurt.” “Yes, they do. Stanley, what’s going on? Did you meet Kunle? Does he not like me? I know I am not that beautiful. Did he walk away?” Desola asked painfully.
“No, he wouldn’t. No man in his right sense would walk away from you.” “You are just being kind. Stanley, why are you kneeling?” “Kunle cannot leave you. Nor can I.” “Stanley, we have an audience.” “Since they witnessed the beginning, they should probably watch the end.” “Okay. Okay. Let’s sit. Stanley?” “I won’t get up till you answer me. Will you marry me?”
“Ah! You’re my best friend!” “Well…about that, I always thought Olamide was. I was just the driver for the ladies.” “Funny. Wait till I tell her. What are you thinking, Stan? I already like Kunle, and he is waiting somewhere.” “He likes you too. Will you marry me?” “Our audience is clapping, Stan. What are we doing?” “Creating history.”
“Stan, let’s stop the joke so I can go on with my date. Is this a diamond ring?!” “Marry me, Adesola Ade. Please.” “But?” “You like Kunle already.” “Yes! I am just shocked right now. I should probably sit now.”
“Not until you answer me. Will you marry me?” Say yes, please”, he pleaded. “But Stan, why are you just saying this?” “I was scared.”
“Okay. So, you love me?” “Yes! I have always. Marry me, Desola”
“I don’t even know what to say.” “Say yes.”
“Yes, but..” She said yes!” Stanley exclaimed to the onlookers.
“Stan?” “They are already clapping for us. Here, let me slide the ring onto your finger.” “But Kunle…” “Is me. I am Kunle. You like me already, and I love you, Dee.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” “Let’s eat first. People are already celebrating us. I saw a woman wiping a stray tear.”
“Wait, you are Kunle? How? Stanley, you better have a good explanation for this!” “Sit, Dee. I promise to explain,” as he tugged her towards their reserved seat. “Thank you, Dee. I love you.”
DECEMBER 09, 2023
Her phone almost rang off its hook, yet she made no move to pick up her calls. No one wanted her. Well, save her family and best friends. In this aspect of love, God must have missed that section in her creation.
Her phone rang again, a ringtone specially selected for Olamide. Picking up one of her pillows, she covered her head, blocked the sound, and cried again. She was tired.
“How could I have missed it?” she asked herself. Her date never wore the ring and never answered strange calls.”
Nothing hurt worse than being labeled the wrong name today.
“You know, you cannot keep ignoring us all,” a voice said from behind the door. “I want to,” Desola whispered.
“Open up, Dee. Please”, Stanley pleaded. She had no strength to reply again but turned on the bed and faced the ceiling.
Black was Stanley’s favorite color. She could not remember how he convinced her to paint all the ceilings black. Her favorite color littered the whole room. She had sky-blue walls, blue curtains that parted to let a little sunshine in, blue lights to compliment the white at night, and blue starred bedsheets. It was her haven.
While the windows faced each other, her marble wardrobe stood opposite the bed. Laying on the bed, one could see her clothes hung neatly with a partition below for a few folded house clothes.
“Dee! I am going to cook, and you had better open up before I finish, or I will break the door!” Olamide exclaimed. Desola chuckled. Girl had a patience as thin as a thread and love like a big puppy.
She let her gaze wander around her room. The largest of all in her house, she could recall how her best friends and she spent all day painting and arranging. Olamide had given her a housewarming gift that sat at the bedside stand, a frame of the three of them.
Clock hanging at the head of the bed, her bible and devotional beside her pillow, a bottle of water beside the frame, and her slippers on the rug by the bed. It was her safe place away from the doubts about how she would wear the ring.
Maybe she should sign up for missionary work. Life was beautiful till she fell in love.
Opening the door before her best friend carried out her threat, she peeped and saw only Stanley with his arms crossed and back leaning on the wall.
“Hi,” she greeted
“Hey. What happened? Olamide dragged me by the shirt, and I mean that literally,” he said out of concern as he straightened and walked close to her. She shrugged and came out of the room.
Seeing her face, Stanley swiftly blocked her path into the kitchen. “What happened? Who hurt you?”
“Bad date, Stan! The guy is a loser!” Olamide screamed from the kitchen. His eyebrows rose an inch in question, and all Desola did was nod. “His wife happened to pass by,” she whispered. Words she would rather not repeat came out of Stanley. He was visibly angry.
“You should not say that,” Desola replied him. “You should not date these losers,” he retorted. “Guess I am not a good judge of character. He played well for months, but I will be fine.” Stanley’s fierce hug was all she needed to let another dam open. How did she not see he was married? What was he thinking playing her all along? Worse, his wife called her names.
Desola didn’t know when he carried and laid her on the sofa. “You will be fine. I am sorry for the blame game,” he apologized. Her nod was the only affirmation she could give.
“She is out?” Olamide asked, bringing in a hot plate of food to meet a sleeping Desola on the long couch and Stanley on the loveseat, staring at her like he had lost his puppy. “Yes. When did you find out?” “Today. She sent a text and refused to pick up her calls. I am so sorry for dragging you off your bed on a Saturday morning.”
He nodded. Olamide sat beside him, bumping him with her shoulders.
“What?”
“What?”, she mimicked. His phone rang, and he stood up to answer. “Sorry, work called, he apologized a few minutes later. He met her scrolling through her social media timeline. What is new online?” he asked. “Nothing much. I am reading an e-novel from a new author. Here, see. SMS,” she replied. “You and novel.” Olamide closed the book and bumped Stanley again.
“When are you going to tell her?” she whispered.
“Tell who?”
“Dee.”
“Tell her what?”
“That you love her.”
Stanley’s mouth agape was all she needed to laugh out loud.
“I hate onions, Dee, and you know it,” Stanley grumbled. He had been dicing onions for over 2 minutes. You like to punish me whenever I visit,” he concluded with the knife in his hand pointed at her. “Which is why you keep coming back, right?” Desola taunted while cutting the cabbage. She was preparing a meal for her family coming to visit.
“I keep you company from dying of loneliness, and all I get in return is to dice onions?” “And carrots. You can’t make fried rice without carrots,” Desola replied as she stood beside the gas cooker.
“Don’t make him do this,” Stanley advised as he poured the diced onions into a bowl and picked up the next challenge. Since his cooking prowess was limited to the regular rice and sauce, he did all to support where his next meal would be from.
“Do what? Dice onions? He would also cut pepper, Stan. No man of mine would run away from this small challenge,” Desola teased.
“Yeah. Chase your man away with torture, Dee.”
“He never came near,” she whispered in reply. Stanley heard.
The smell of roasted chicken that permeated the air hindered him from speaking. He knew he opened the pandora of her dating escapades and failures, but thankfully, she never said a word as she bent to retrieve the chicken.
“Dicing carrots is far better,” he said as he chewed the little left instead of dicing. “From a hungry man. I know you too much, Stan,” she replied. “Fine. Can we at least eat the chicken now?” he teased. With gloved hands, she turned and cooked up a serious look. “Don’t you dare!” “Ah! Ladies and gentlemen, she bites.”
He watched her cook. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how he could watch her all day, but they had been best friends since childhood. It was harder to pour out his mind without sounding like a clown.
“I like this new kitchen color,” Stanley commented as he looked at its walls and ceiling. “My favorite.” “You should have at least added the favorite color of your most visited friend,” he continued with his back at the sink and watched her fry the carrots, corn, pepper, and onions.
“Olamide also loves white,” Desola teased. “Olamide? What about me?” he asked in feigned anger. “Your best color is black, Stan. Who would want to paint their kitchen black?” “Me,” he boasted. “At least I have a black ceiling,” she consoled him.
“Reminds me of my last date. You didn’t even ask how it went”, Desola accused. Stanley watched her pour the rice into the pot and counted one to ten before responding.
“I am sorry. I forgot. How did it go?” Stanley asked. “One word, Fair.”
“Wow,” Stanley exclaimed.
“Wow,” she retorted.
“Are you crying, Desola?” “No. Well, yes. I am tired of going on different dates. Why can’t I go for one, and all will be well?”
“Date me,” Stanley whispered to himself. “What did you say?” Desola said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Nothing important. You will be fine.” “I know. I should try one more time.”
“Church guy? Have you met him already?” he asked eagerly. He was tired of having heart palpitations whenever she met a new guy.
“No. Olamide told me of a blind dating club. We submit our names and meet at the restaurant. Like a blind date, but not an app.”
“What? Is this a joke?” Stanley said as he stood straight from the sink and joined her at the gas stand. He could fight Olamide if she were here. She stayed true to her threat.
“Got better ideas?”
“Well, nothing as absurd as dating club.” “Stanley. That’s not nice.”
“You are beginning to sound desperate, Dee. Look, I am not getting younger, and I am cool finding love when it comes.” “Okay,” Desola said as she carried the pot and moved towards the counter. Stanley followed.
“Desola.”
“There’s no harm in trying it.” “Fine. What is the name of the club?” “Finders and Keepers.” “I hope it works out,” he barely mumbled, not hungry anymore. “And kept. That’s the most important. Dinner is ready!”
Picking up his phone, he texted Olamide.
What do you think you are doing? Finders and Keepers
What you wouldn’t do, she replied. Get a new sim, Stan. I want to help you both
It isn’t supposed to be a joke, he texted back.
It isn’t.
Will it work?
There is no harm in trying. Get a new sim.
Stanley raised his head to see Desola staring at him intensely that he almost told his secret.
“Work,” he lied as he held his phone up to show her his LinkedIn feed with a post on books.
Stanley hoped it worked all right.
Just maybe he would be able to keep his best friend by his side forever.