Asabe bolted out of her office, causing her bewildered secretary to leap to her feet.
“Jesus! Madam is everything alright?” the startled woman asked her boss who had already started toward the exit door. Her question hung in the air.
The only thing on Asabe’s mind were the doctor’s words. There was little time left to make it happen. Keeping a hand on the steering, her left hand dexterously dialed Chike’s line. She quickly fixed the buzzing phone in it’s clamp stand fitted with the dashboard, she pulled the gear and reversed the Toyota Rav4 into the tarmac in one fell swoop.
“Yes Asa babe, You’re driving. To where?” The husky male voice emanated from the phone loudspeaker.
“Seriously dear? Forgotten already? It’s almost 2pm.” Asabe queried, zooming past an obstructing Dangote truck moving at snail speed.
“About what… uhm… Oh! Dang! Forgive me. I’m coming right away!”
“Fly if you can.”
“I got you, babe.”
The call ended.
Her man hadn’t successfully pushed open the door, when Asabe dropped off her wrapper, staring blankly at him. He gazed at her gloomy face down to her petite naked frame, and then returned to her face.
Her eyes bore sadness.
He finally feigned a weak smile at the woman he loved to death, hoping a brighter countenance would dispel the gloom in the bedroom. Asabe curled her lips in a brief dry smile, turned away and shuffled to the spacious bed.
Without saying a word, Chike untied his shoelaces, un fastened his belt, wriggled out of his pants and tore off his checkered shirt.
“Oh dear… Come…” Asabe faked a purr from their matrimonial bed, inviting him into her embrace; she lay spread-eagle position.
Chike, fully aroused, slowly came for her. Arriving the bedpost, he parted her and took control of her. “Wait honey. Take it this way,” she swiftly repositioned herself with the swiftness of a gymnast, for full effect.
This was the 5th of their weekly ritual as a couple. Sometimes, they did spontaneous sex; sometimes it was a must-have, even if they both were at opposite ends of the world. Slamming into the core of her desires, one final slam got him grunting in satiation.
Asabe quickly got into a head-down position, cushioning her head with a pillow, as Chike assisted her with lifting her legs in the air. She leaned against the wall in this tough position for a couple of minutes;
with combined hopes of his generation seeds, seeping deeply into her.
They were trying for a baby – 10 unhappy years.
Asabe rolled out of bed, letting out a yawn as she wobbled to the wall-fitted closet. She fumbled through her trunk box, and at the same time, occasionally checking if her husband was roused.
Chike was still very much asleep. Which meant the freedom to engage in her daily morning obsession; one he often frowned at.
Her finger brushed the familiar pack buried under a pile of clothes. Clutching it, and noting the snoring man was far gone – she was in the clear. So, off to the loo!
Closing the door quietly behind her, Asabe picked up a blue plastic cup on the toilet tank. She said a word of prayer before urinating into the container. Overcome by tremor, she unwrapped the kit with shaky hands and dipped the strip in the specimen. Her heart raced as she gazed intently at the result line. Minutes later, the strip indicated “Negative”.
A wave of cold hit her and she wearily collapsed on the WC.
Same feeling of hopelessness she’d experienced for the most part of her 10-year marriage. She was 39, a year away from the dicey 40s.
Was she ever going to suckle her own baby? Would she ever survive an unbearable, meddling mother in-law? She hadn’t the luxury of time to bemoan her travails; work called.
“Thought as much. On the test kit again. But we’ve talked about your constant anxiety several times.”
Chike remarked, as she emerged from the loo. He sat up on the bed and studied her. Asabe tried to hide the test kit behind her, but too late. Her bulgy red eyes and uncontrollable sniffing communicated volumes.
“Honey, you worry so much over this pregnancy issue. Give yourself a break!” Chike sighed.
She held on to the loo doorknob, sobbing hysterically and unable to face the man whom she knew hated to see her get antsy. He loved her dearly, but how much longer would he absorb the pressures from all corners?
“When last did you have sexual intercourse?” Doctor Sean interviewed his patients.
“Err… That should be… when sef?” Chike turned to his wife.
“Thursday precisely. 3 times. 3pm, 7pm and just before midnight.”
“You memorized the time as well? Genius.” Chike quipped.
Asabe, shot back, “Oga sir, you would, if you were the one ovulating.”
Doctor Sean’s infectious laughter got the couple laughing. The doctor continued casually,
“Mrs Asabe, looks like your pregnancy test kit is expired. You’re already a month gone.”
Chike and Asabe, chorused.
They stared bugeyed at the doctor in disbelief.
“Yes.” He nodded, “And congrats.” Doctor Sean pulled out a result sheet from a folder which he handed to the screaming couple. They clung to each other as they took a quick glance at the result which seemed too good to be true.
Asabe felt unburdened and lighter than ever. Just few hours ago, she was an inconsolable wreck – now, she wondered where all the tears went to.
Meanwhile Chike, now curled up on the floor, was an overflowing dam. He kicked in the air like a kid, knocking down objects in the Gynaecologist’s consulting room. For a change, she happily reached out to calm down the love of her life.