CHAPETR III

The doorbell sounded.

“Our first customer!” A young Nancy exclaimed.

When she came in from the back room, a young man was standing at the corner of the store staring at a painting.

“Can I help you?”

“Ummm! Yes actually, I need two things”

“Are those two things in this store?”

“Well yes as a matter of fact.”

He moved to the counter.

“I need a freshly baked fruit cake, extra resins please!”

“All our cakes and pastries are fresh sir and all our fruit cakes have extra resins!”

He paused and looked up at her and for the first time their eyes met. Those brown piercing eyes that just pulled you in. She had never seen such a face, such arms, such a physique. His sweater was wrapped around his shoulder and his hand in his pocket – a typical college grad. He had been chiseled in perfect proportion. Not a single thing about him was out of place. They were momentarily lost in each other’s presence.

The sound of the bell at the door snapped them back to reality.

“Ummmm…”

“I will have two twelve-pack boxes of queen cakes please.” A middle-aged lady called.

“Coming right up!” She said without taking her eyes off him.

“Thank you!”

“Welcome, please come back again!”

“Aren’t you going to order something young man?” An elderly voice asked.

“No, I’m ok...” He looked back and whispered, “…besides if I leave here with what I want, no one will be serving pastries here today!”

The elderly man straightened out his hat and smiled as he strode past him.

“Well, lucky for us!”

“You are welcome, please come back again!” She almost yelled at the elderly man as he walked out of the bakery.

“Business seems to be good.”

“Yes!” She said with a beaming face. “I have already made my first thousand!”

She was like a little child in a candy store, only that she was on the other side of the counter. She had been baking ever since she was twelve and her dream was to open a bakery in up-town Nairobi. She had just completed her undergraduate studies which made her father very proud. So when she was told to ask for anything on her twenty-second birthday, she was unhesitant to tell her father to loan her some money to start a bakery. Fast forward a year later and there she was at the corner of Tom Mboya Street Nairobi, more than ready to take on the city.

“This is a beautiful store, but I would like to buy that first!” Pointing at the painting on the corner where he once stood.

“Ummm…you are aware that that is not a fruit cake right!”

He smirked.

“And anyway you can’t really buy it, it’s priceless!”

“Then I won’t buy it, souv’ me!”

“Really…why?”

“Because you can’t sell it to me, so just give it to me.”

“It was a gift…so…sorry, I can’t, but your fruit cake is ready!”

“You have a 10th Century finger painting from Egypt…one of the rarest things on earth and you place it on the corner of a bakery store?

“How the hell would you possibly know that?” She was genuinely surprised because he was right. The finger painting was as old as African civilization itself. It was painted by the eldest son of one of the earliest Pharaohs in Egypt as a gift to the daughter of a peasant. Because of classism, they were not allowed to be together, let alone be in the same space. So the young prince drew all these beautiful paintings to her as a representation of his love for her. It was a symbolic piece of art and had stirred up so much literature, many folk stories and myths over time.

“It is said that the young prince who drew the painting and the peasant young lady who it was meant for never got married and that they once disappeared from their kingdom without a trace and after twenty-five moons of searching for the prince, he was considered dead, so was her peasant lady. That painting over there was said to be the last one the prince sent to her before they coincidentally disappeared…at the same time!”

Her grandfather had told that story too many times to count. Most of the family always thought that it was just folklore and made for good conversations when the family gathered during the holiday.

“Rumor has it that the two love birds fled Egypt together… ”

“…and they settled far away from their lands…” She interjected

“…they followed the Nile and finally…”

“…settled at its source!” She interrupted his words again.

“So you do know the story!”

“Yes! I do know the story because my grandfather was obsessed about it.”

“He collects art?”

“No, he didn’t…God rest his soul!”

“Oh! I’m really sorry!”

“It’s okay, he lived a full and wonderful life!”

“Well, ummmm! Thank you for the fruit cake!”

“You are welcome and…”

“I will come again!” He interjected. “Let me go figure out how to convince you to give me that painting!”

“I’d like to see you try!”

He had almost reached the door of the bakery when he turned back and asked, “Do you mind sharing a fruit cake with me sometime?”

She laughed in surprise. “You really want that painting don’t you?”

“Your smile and the painting, both!”

“Well alright, here’s my…”

She looked down to write her number and when she looked back up again, Hercules had disappeared.

The rainy season went by very quickly for the new love birds. Of course, John being John had completely forgotten to take Nancy’s phone number. He was so excited about the painting. He was not joking about going to figure out a way to convince her to give him the painting. He was not joking about Nancy’s smile either though. One afternoon, the weather was horrible. The sun had not come out for a few days and it was terribly freezing. That afternoon was even worse. Nancy had held on to the hope that the sun would eventually shine that day so she went on to open the store. It rained and thundered the whole morning. She had no choice but to lock herself in the bakery store at least until the rain subsided. Guess who also had held on to the hope of the sun shining that day? All he had to protect him from the elements was his cardigan. He had just left a meeting and was walking across town for another when it started to pour. So he ran. People had thronged in all the places one could think of when seeking temporary shelter from a sudden downpour. He ran the street helplessly, looking left and right for refuge. Even the supermarket entrances had found new doors - people who were scared of rain. He ran along Moi Avenue then turned right, now racing along Tom Mboya Street. He looked like a scared puppy trying to find its way home. The rain was mercilessly pounding on him. He then noticed a familiar glass door, and luckily no one was standing there. He crossed the street and run to the glass door. He pressed himself against it.

Nancy a sound at the front door from the backroom.

“I guess anytime is pastry time!” She scoffed.

She hesitantly walked to go open the door and to her surprise, there was the son of Zeus again, although a little less godly.

She was not sure what she was feeling at that particular moment, but it had crossed her mind not to open the door for him. All that time he was outside he did not say anything, he just stared at her.

“Oh! Sorry, come in…”

“Thank you!”

“What? You confused yourself with a rain collector tank?”

“There is officially no place to hide from the rain in this city…” He exaggerated.

“…I am so sorry about this”

“Don’t be…as soon as I get you warmed up you are going to mop all this water!”

“Fair enough.”

She helped him take off his sweater.

“You just went from seventy to ninety percent water…you need to take off all these clothes before you get sick and die in my store.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t want you to die? I don’t know yet…I’m I sure I do not want you to die in my store? Definitely yes!”

He hesitantly nodded.

“Well, chap! chap! Lucky for you I have a leso in the back room. Dry yourself off and improvise.”

“What about my clothes?”

“Well just leave them there!”

He went to the back room and paused for a second. It was a small room with two giant ovens at one end. At the center were a set of tables each with freshly baked cakes. On the other end were carton boxes and wrapping papers. At the corner, hung on a coat rack were several fabrics. The room smelled really good. He came back out with a vest and a purple leso wrapped around his waist and found that she had prepared some espresso for him. He was delighted.

“Don’t you think that for a guy you just met, you are doing just a little too much…What if I was a psycho?”

“Well, even psychos need a hot cup of espresso right about now…” She walked to him and handed him the cup. “…and have you already forgotten that I have met you before?” Or maybe you did actually, just like you forgot something the other day…”

“The painting?”

“Really?” She rolled her eyes.

He broke into laughter.

“I’m just joking…geez! No sense of humor today?”

“Well, I kinda had bet on fine weather today, I get like this when I’m counting my losses.”

“We both had bet on that today…don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“If you say so.” She said with a smirk.

“Uuuuum…I will need another espresso and two slices of strawberry cake please.”

“You really pack it in, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do!”

He went to the back room to get a fabric and brought it to the bakery. He spread it across the floor and placed the two espressos with the two paper plates with cake on the white woolen cloth. He got up and looked at her. She got confused.

“I pack it in, I really do, but today I would like to pack it in with you…would you go out on a date with me?”

She was even more confused.

“I mean would you be in here on a date with me…”

He stretched his hand towards hers.

“Would you?”

“She stretched her hand towards his.”

That afternoon was not the first time they met. That is how it felt for the two. It was half past five in the evening when their sweet nothings were interrupted by a knock on the door. They had not even realized that the rain had stopped. The person on the other side wiped the fog off the glass door to see inside the store and Nancy was doing the same from the inside.

“Oh my! Never mind then…” The young lady surprisingly said. With the fog cleared, she could see John.

“Oh, no! No! No! It’s not what you think, he…”

“Hey, I don’t judge, I get it, with this kind of weather we all need that kind of heat…there is really nothing to be ashamed of…or explain.”

It was too late for her to defend herself. It is not like it had not crossed her mind, and if she was really given a chance with him behind a closed opaque door…

She had dreamed of him severally. She had talked to him in her sleep and told him how much she enjoyed the times they had together. She had felt him on her skin on numerous occasions during her daydreams. He had rained in her secret garden and flooded her senses at night. They danced on the clouds right after. She loved the way he genuinely cared about her ideas. She loved the way he asked her if she was okay when she was not – somehow he just knew. There was a way she could jump and wrap herself around him and he would comfortably and for a considerable period of time carry her around and kiss her like she had no weight at all.

He always asked, “Who are you?”

And she pleasantly replied, “I am yours!”

Her hand fit perfectly in his. She had in countlessly imagined how their bodies would fit together when they slept. He never said anything he did not mean. He was considerate with his words and really thought about what came out of his mouth, especially when he was talking to her.

He had dreamed of her severally. He had talked to her in his sleep and told him how much he enjoyed the times they had together. He had felt her on his skin on numerous occasions during his daydreams. Every time he rained in her secret garden, he could fly. She stood on his feet and they danced on the clouds right after. He loved the way she genuinely cared about him. He loved the way she always told him how she felt about things. He loved the way she was always excited about kissing him.

He always asked her, “Who are you?”

And she always pleasantly replied, “I am yours!”

Her hand and his were a perfect match - it fit in his just right. He liked that. He liked every part of her body. The two of them had too many sex scenes in his mind. From her bakery to his parent’s patio and on those first-class flights he fancied being one someday. She always listened to him. She always wanted to really understand what he felt. He loved that about her.