While their conversation bounced around various subjects, Monica’s mother asked Brady, “Now tell me; how did a typical Yoruba boy like yo...
While their conversation bounced around various subjects, Monica’s mother asked Brady, “Now tell me; how did a typical Yoruba boy like you got the name Brady? It does not exactly fit your persona. What is the story behind it?” “Oh my God! Are you a psychologist or a diviner Mummy?” “I am none of those”. “Well, though I go by the name Brady Ashiwu that was not originally my name. I was born Bankole Ashiwu; however friends kept mutilating Bankole until what was left of it was Brady. Five years ago I decided to make the name official because everyone I knew called me Brady, even my mother.” “Well I am an exception to that. From now on I shall call you Bankole or Banks. As for Brady, uhmm… the name feels rough on my tongue. Are you okay with that Bankole?” “I have no problem with it mami.” “Good.” There was virtually nothing to show that Brady was meeting Monica’s mother for the first time. They played Scrabble game together and debated politics energetically. Even Mr. Snow Monica’s mother’s dog, found a soft spot for him; the dog which was usually sullen and peevish when strangers were around, surprised its owner by playing around Brady’s legs and allowed him to stroke his head.
With satisfaction and peace of mind, Brady left Monica and her mother. Going by their first meeting, the lines seemed to have fallen for him in pleasant places. When he got home, he sunk himself into one of his arm chairs and relived layer after layer, the moments he spent with Monica and her mother. His blissful fantasy was cut short with the sound of his ringing phone. Seeing the name on the screen, a huge smile enveloped his face. Picking the call, he broke into his rhymes, “Hello Monica…” “Hi baby I want to know if you are home.” “Baby love, do you know what I was thinking before your call came in?” “No, tell me.” “I was thinking about the way your eyes catch the stars when you smile; how your love makes my heart dance like cotton dress in the wind. I think I would have been forever lost if I had not found your love.” All Brady could hear on the other end of the phone was, “Uhmm!” Monica was just thawing out to take in his lovely rhymes. “Baby!” “mmmh!” replied Monica. “Do you believe love can do all things?” “Yes, I do.” “So why don’t we grow wings and fly away to some place where love grows like flowers and those in love glow like the sun?” “When do you want me to grow my wings baby?” “Tonight Monica.”
Digging deep into the collection of love lines he had read from books over the years, Brady preyed on Monica’s mind with sweet words, “Baby I love you the way a drowning man loves air. And it would destroy me to have you just a little. I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head.” Momentarily he paused, as if to wait for Monica to take in his words and then he continued, “Baby, I want to be that kind of friend. The one who will memorize the things you say as well as the shape of your lips when you say them. I want to know every curve, every freckle, and every shiver of your body. I want to know where to touch you; I want to know how to touch you. I want to know how to convince you to design a smile just for me. Yes, I do want to be your friend. I want to be your best friend in the entire world.”
Digging deep into the collection of love lines he had read from books over the years, Brady preyed on Monica’s mind with sweet words, “Baby I love you the way a drowning man loves air. And it would destroy me to have you just a little. I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head.” Momentarily he paused, as if to wait for Monica to take in his words and then he continued, “Baby, I want to be that kind of friend. The one who will memorize the things you say as well as the shape of your lips when you say them. I want to know every curve, every freckle, and every shiver of your body. I want to know where to touch you; I want to know how to touch you. I want to know how to convince you to design a smile just for me. Yes, I do want to be your friend. I want to be your best friend in the entire world.”
On the other end of the telephone conversation tears flowed from Monica’s eyes. Sometime ago when Brady kissed her at Iya Bosco restaurant, she thought she saw heaven’s gate, this time, she felt like she was walking through the gold-plated streets of heaven. It was not just the words Brady spoke that moved her to tears; it was also the sound of his voice. It was deep, rich and caressed every word he spoke as they left his lips. He sure knew how to make a woman go nuts with words. When he was done he paused to hear what Monica would say. She drew in air to fill her longs before speaking a word; clearly Brady had left her breathless. “Love lets you find those hidden places in another person; even the ones they didn’t know were there, even the ones they wouldn’t have thought to call beautiful themselves; and beautiful, that’s how you make me feel Brady. Loved and beautiful are all I can feel right now!” she said as she began to sob gently. Though Brady allowed himself to coast on the wave of his new found love for Monica, he still spared though for what his mother and Laide might be up to. He was determined to spend the rest of his life with Monica that in weeks he began to plan his wedding. Common sense required him to slow down a bit and get to know Monica a lot more, but he was afraid that Laide might come in and crash his love party with Monica. To make certain he burnt his bridge back to Laide, Brady decided to make a marriage proposal to Monica.
While Monica held Brady in her arms, she realized that one of Brady’s friends on the boat had been filming the proposal all along. Still pulsating with a joyful heart, Monica buried her teeth on Brady’s neck and nibbled his flesh. Brady shouted, “Ahw! What was that for?” Brady tried to pull away, but she held him still and whispered, “So you planned all this with your friends to make me cry before them.” “Yes, because you look far more beautiful when you have joyful tears on your face,” replied Brady. STORY CONTINUES…
LINK TO EPISODE 4: http://www.moofyme.com/2015/12/a-tale-of-love-episode-4-by-uzoma-ujor.html
This story was written by:
UZOMA UJOR
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