Return of the Ma

I squirmed over and over again, the oddly sweet discomfort taking over me. I was all decked out in an impeccably tailored tartan suit (with cherry red stilettos, no less), and I knew for sure that it sat beautifully on me.

What I wasn’t sure about, though, was how awkward or otherwise it would look if I decided to undo one button. Just one. The fit was tight, and I was so tired of sucking in my soft, growing belly. There was more than food in there; a whole baby whose existence I wasn’t quite ready to declare to anyone.

The realization kicked me in the gut again, (or was that the baby?) and I almost bit my tongue. I would be a good mother. I’d already refused two glasses of champers tonight, hadn’t I?

There were at least forty people — friends, family and their dates; all here throwing me a ‘surprise’ graduation party. I was only surprised to find out they’d rented out the entire restaurant for my party, and I grumpily wondered what the fuss was about. Mostly because I was tired and heavy, though. Tired, pregnant, and heavy. I fiddled with the top button of my suit but my innate sense of propriety stayed my fingers.

“Jimmy,” my best friend Annie whispered, touching my arm lightly. Only she would derive Jimmy from Ritjimwa. Everyone else just called me Rit. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, Annie. I’m awfully sleepy. And this jacket is killing me,” I groaned, wishing something would happen to make the party a bit less morose.

Now here’s some advice. Be careful what you wish for.

I will, I know now — because the moment I turned towards the door, I gasped and my heart stopped. Not literally; but in a terrible, nasty moment of shock.

My mother stood beneath the doorway.

Suddenly my button was the least of my problems.

Ma had been gone eleven years, and with zero contact. I still remember her dragging her sophisticated cobalt suitcase out to a taxi when I was twelve, kissing Dad goodbye, and promising me she’d be back from Liberia in two weeks. Somehow, those two weeks turned into a marriage to some foreigner.

I was more shocked at the audacity of her showing up here at my graduation party, than the fact that she was actually here, and within twenty feet of me. Me and my baby. “What the hell?” I managed to bark, fresh anger making the shock wear off in seconds.

It was then that I noticed the whole room had gone silent. Not only had all conversations ceased; somehow the bloody music had stopped playing too. The air was thick with tension and the aftereffects of a broken promise.

“Ritjimwa,” I read her lips from across the room, as I noticed the telltale glimmer in her eyes. How dare she speak my name?

“You scheming little witch,” I squeaked softly, pain punctuating my words. “Please leave.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Dad return from the restroom. He paused, stared for a second, and slumped to the floor.

Party over.