You Don’t Say No To Panda

He was in an almost white stripped polo t-shirt, navy blue khakis and brown chukkas. The shirt made sure to hug his chest leaving no slack. Oh that boy! He had that well-sculpted body that makes me bite my finger while my heart beats like tum tum drums of South Africa. I always know I’m heading for the heads and heels over someone every time my nerves act ill at ease. I kept throwing glances at him. He was very easy to my eyes. Sometimes the heavens just know how to mate attraction; he was looking at me too. We were at Alliance Francaise for Churchill show on 31st August 2018. He was seated two seats from me and every time I turned to him, our eyes met. I rang my heart at once and asked her out of the tizzy because we had begotten ourselves a fancy man to fondle with. A handsome gent with powerful lats and broad biceps. What other dress  would I look most sexy in other than his arms really? For real if he wasn’t going to  let me sit on his laps, I was going to fall for him. Well, eventually both the former and the latter happened anyway.

Saying Philip is a charmer would be  too shallow a description; His  eyes! Alas! They are this swooning eyes – tough and comforting. They are the kind of eyes I have only seen with José María Torre. Eyes that shine downright to fascination letting you know he would be the beams of supporting you. And when they delve in love, Ah! my sister!  They become the color of a leather book, promising a story of loyalty, long-life and devotion. His skin color – when Guinness says Black is Bright, he can relate. He has hair that’s as black as midnight on a moonless night and has thinned a bit on the frontal. I think to give him… say about 10years and he will be looking something close to Terry Crews.

The son is a hard audience though. This one, to make him laugh is like trying to sneeze with your eyes open. And if you’re fortunate to knock off his wits, he expresses that laughter with his upper and lower teeth joined. May be because he knows they have the color of the first snowfall. I later asked him why he would pay for a comedy show yet he hardly laughs. And? He said his friend’s worked there, so he tagged along as a show of a warm sense of comradeship.  Philip is a taciturn; exactly how I like.  But when he talks, ah! man! he does so with this natural high sense of self worth you wouldn’t think he uses that mouth for anything else other than eating fish fingers with honey mustard sauce.

We both know what she means with that so we laugh in unison. My mind runs wild and she puts her oar in my imagination by telling me my eyes are burning with compelling fierceness.  So I return.

Milly is a 28 years old single mum. She has this caramel complexion and on this day she had on an expensive blonde wig that hang to her cheeks and she kept swaying it as she spoke. From how she talked about her people, and about their house in Muthaiga, it’s obvious she hails from a loaded one.

So ma’am did he knock you up the same night?

Haha! Wanjiku keep your shirt on; Well, he’s crafty. He did eat from my pot the same night. Because… how dare you say no to Panda? He found himself in my phonebook after the show. He handed me his gadget to dial my number going like, let me have your number so we could go for the next one together. For sure we did. A lot of shows those were. He mentioned he was ending the night at Mojo’s with his friends and requested I join. “It’s not right for this chemistry to go home untapped, ama?” He asked. I smiled then nodded in agreement. They are those boys whose whisky is nothing but a John. They drink black label. We drunk and killed the night. Philip and I left the party at 4am and drove to my apartment in Riara. It was a Saturday and none of us had other errands. We stayed in getting familiar with each other. I have always been extroverted so keeping a conversation with a hermit has never been a hard nut. He left the following day and it felt like we had been in a relationship for life. I found myself looking forward to our next meeting. I  caught myself smiling sheepishly at my screen every time a notification popped up with his name on it. Then he sent me that song, One Shot by Mario Vasquez  and he had me eating out of his hands. I surrendered.

We dated for about 18months then I fell pregnant.

Accidental?

Yeah.. I hate to blame the wine, so I blame the chemistry. I was madly in love with him so I thought I was ready for whatever repercussions. We had gone to a friends birthday party. No! I mean I had gone. Let me not say “we” because he showed up late. Let’s just say he picked me up after the party. That morning when I left the house we had agreed he was to catch up with me in the afternoon. I called him when I realized he was running late and he lied the car had refused to start and that he had to call the mec’. Philip was a pathological liar and I knew it. I don’t know how, but I always knew whenever he was being untruthful. Like one time he came home past mid-night, drenched in sweat and smelling of a mixture of strawberry and spermatic fluid and he said his instructor mistakenly locked him up in the gym so he over-worked-and-wanked. Lame one that one.  I always let him get away with those because I hated to embarrass him. Or could be I was scared we would quarrel and he would leave me. I didn’t want that. So I lead him to believe that I believed everything he said to be the true doctrine. I called him at 7pm. My call went unanswered. I called again at 8 same response. I was so mad. Have you looked a wasp in the face before it stings? That must have been how I looked. I don’t know how many glasses of red wine I had taken before he showed up at 2100hrs. He always had that one look every time he came from sin and I knew it because it had been happening so often over the last six months. My friend couldn’t understand why I was mad; “But Milly, the car broke down, how do you expect him to make it here? Honestly you are getting your knickers in a twist” . She said. In my head, I knew no damn car had broken a damn thing. He must have been somewhere caressing thighs and being a damn mec. I was infuriated. But then I’m not the woman to cause a scene and especially not in public. So I swallowed it.

Babe you must be really exhausted, let’s just go home. I said looking him in the eye.

I’m really sorry I had to miss the fun part. He said turning away and I immediately knew my intuition was right.  We left.

You were unusually quiet the entire way, are you okay?

No! I am not okay Phil. I am angry. When will you stop lying to me?

What do you mean?

That bullshit about the car failing to start,  I don’t buy it one bit. Where the hell was your pathetic lying arse the whole day? He looked surprised. He had never seen that side of me.

Milly I will let this slide because you are drunk.  He said pushing me out of his way.

I pulled him back and pushed him to the couch. I told you he was well built, yeah! He landed heavily and knocked his face on the arm. His eyes shot. He gave me a death glare. I was shaking in my shoes. That was when the alcohol in my blood watered down. I knew this was the point where Jason Statham tells the girls that if they are picking the wrong fight, they should at least pick the right weapon. Ah! you don’t go down without a fight anyway. I had come to that point of no return. So in that same spirit of Jason, I picked the cup that had been sitting on the table and moved towards him; “If you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’m gonna press down this cup until it crushes your trachea. Trust me, there’s the after death humiliation of having been killed with a cup.”

Milly please, you don’t wanna do this right now. I am trying so hard to contain my rage because I don’t want to do something stupid.  He gripped both my hands on his left palm and took my neck with the other. He gave me that  look that burns my eyeholes with such intensity that a shiver went through me. “I’m sorry!” He said in my ears. He then leaned forward to kiss my lips. My head was cocked in the mindless gape of love. He carried me to bed covering my face with kisses and apologies. The love that night was hot-blooded. He was intentional, eating it up as though he had been on a dry spell. I forgave him again. I woke up the next morning to crisped bread with butter and sausage and black lemon coffee. He knew I loved that. We had breakfast together but in an awkward silence only throwing glances every so often. He then kissed my forehead as always and left. He never came back that evening. I called him endlessly, I sent him a thousand messages but no response. Two days without hearing from him, I went to his mother’s and no one there knew or his whereabouts except his older sister who concealed insisting it was not in her place to let the cat out of the bag. Three months later rumor spread. I called his mum she confirmed to have heard that her son had moved in with a girl who put to bed.  I don’t know if she had pretended not to have known or she was truthful but either way, I was destroyed severely. Like a soldier shot through the chest. At this time I was eleven weeks pregnant. Our company had closed shop about a month prior and I was waiting on a new job. I could no longer afford to the pay the rent and keep up with the bills. I had to move back home with my folks. I stay with them to date because they won’t let me live a lone after one time I slit my left wrist, here. My parents were sick with anxiety. My dad says the darkest hours of his life were those he thought I wouldn’t make it to hosi. I nearly died by the way and I regret having taken that direction. I honestly can’t tell what I did to that man to deserve that. How hard is it to just sit someone down and tell them you planted a tree somewhere and it bore fruits? Well, I have recovered from all that but I struggle to trust again. I just can’t. And I don’t know what I would do if I ever ran into Philip anywhere. He destroyed me you know. But nothing means more to my life than my daughter. She is beautiful. She has his eyes, his hair, his toes and fingers. But she has my face and complexion. I love her that one.

“Cheers to motherhood.” I said raising my cup of hot lemon.

“Cheers” She winked

Till next week, cheers coms.

2 thoughts on “You Don’t Say No To Panda

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