Sergio, Mrs S and my mid life crisis

I get home about 5 minutes before Nissah. She’s all starry eyed and breathless as she flops down on the bed, “Vee I’m in love” she declares. I roll my eyes theatrically, if I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that, Bill Gates would be my housekeeper. “I take it your date went well”
She flings her arms over her head, “It was great, you know it was meant to be just a lunch date but as he drove me back to work he said he didn’t think he could wait till our next date to see me and before I could say anything else he’d walked into my office and told my boss he’d like to open an investment account and he’d like me to manage it.”
I smile inwardly, I guess that the fact that Nissah cant add beyond two digit numbers without a calculator did not come up, still it was a great story. “That’s great Nissah” I say more to hurry her along, “That wasn’t even the best part. We went to see a movie and we ended up being the only ones at the theatre, frankly I cant even tell you what the movie was about cos we talked right through it. Vee, it was the most romantic date ever! Then we had drinks at the Lagoon restaurant. He was so open with me, we talked about everything from his childhood to business, even his Dad. Then he just came right out and said that he really liked me, and that he was tired of the rules of dating and all that. So Vee get this, we’re officially a couple and we’re going to the Pink Ball together next weekend.”
“Wow Nissah that’s great” I said. Frankly it all seemed to be happening rather fast, I mean she just met the guy two days ago, and just one date later they were going exclusive? However I wasn’t going to be the one to dampen my friend’s spirit. As high up as Nissah had her head in the clouds, she deserved to be happy. I just hoped this Oderinde whatever person wasn’t going to be just another Mr. never-do-right. Nissah seemed to attract them like bees to honey.
We spent the remainder of the night rehashing every detail of the dream date. Nissah was still fully dressed happily admiring her brand new Steve Maddens as her feet dangled in the air. I think that was the last image my brain registered just before I drifted off to sleep.

The week whizzes by in a blur of lab tests, MRIs, charts and seminars. Pretty much my usual week. My shifts at the hospital are much better because they co-incide with Sergio’s. Truthfully we spend more time gossiping than actually doing any work. Mostly we bitch about HN, Sergio tells me more about his mystery lover. He’s been in love with this mystery woman since I met him and I haven’t even learned so much as a name, we call her Mrs. S, actually I do. Sergio is a huge hulking mass of man, reminds me of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson whom I actually have this huge crush on. Well I did have a crush on Sergio when I started out at Serenity, that was until we became friends. I used to console myself that his lack of interest in me was probably because he was gay, that was until he told me about Mrs. S. Okay at this point all I know is that Mrs. S is an older woman, stuck in a bad marriage because of her kids and that they’ve been having an affair for 2 years. That’s all he’ll tell me, I think it’s because Mrs. S works in the hospital, but he wont tell me that either. He loves her too much to jeopardize what they have. “But don’t you want more?” I’d asked him. “Than just being a booty call?” he’d asked with a smile. “She’s in it for the kids. I can wait that long.” He’d replied. I’d wished then that someone would one day love me like that. Don’t get me wrong I know Seye loves me the way he knows how, but deep down I know that it can never be that way with him.
“So how’s lover boy?” Sergio asks me with a mischievous glint in his eye. He loves to tease me about Seye. Well I cant blame him he probably knows more about my boyfriend than he does about me. We’re at the nurses’ station and I’m playing solitaire on the desktop, “My man is just fine thank you.”
“So when is he going to make an honest woman out of you?” he asks and I snort with laughter. “You mention marriage to Seye and the look on his face changes like you’ve told him you’re taking a scalpel to his testicles.”
Sergio laughs, “Typical commitment phobe”
“Sounds like someone I know” I’d teased.
“It’s not like that and you know it” He’d retorted. I held up my hands in mock surrender. Geez maybe it’s because he’s been around women since nursing school but Serge could be as prickly as a hedgehog especially when it came to his precious Mrs. S. As far as I was concerned Sergio was obsessed with his sugar mummy whoever she was and the woman was just content with having him as a toy boy. Well I wasn’t going to be the one waking him up to smell the coffee. Besides i hated to fight with my only ally at the hospital. Swiftly I changed topics, “So Nissah has a new guy.”
Sergio raised a brow easily and I envied how he did it so effortlessly. “Your friend is a determined young woman” he said dryly. Well that may be because I’d told him about Nissah’s marriage chart. (I’m not a blabbermouth, we needed to bond and that piece of info was too good not to share) Nissah had met Sergio more than once and had been attracted to him certain they’d make perfect caramel coloured babies all for the three minutes before she’d discovered he was actually a nurse and not a doctor. With a smile I recalled how she’d disbelievingly echoed the word “nurse” like it was some kind of newly discovered exotic virus. Sergio had been understandably angry and it had taken about an hour for me to calm him down. Since then it’d have been easier to get George Bush and Osama Bin Laden in one room. The elitist socialite as Sergio had dubbed her could not understand why any normal man would want to be a nurse. She was convinced Sergio was a closet fairy, not that I’d ever told him that. To be fair, I’d thought he was gay too once upon a time, the fact that he didn’t seem to have any male friends at the hospital didn’t help much. Now I understood that Sergio was just a recluse, he probably liked to keep to himself so that his secrets stayed safe, secrets I hoped he’d one day trust me enough to share, not just because I was dead nosy (which I am) but because I hoped one day he’d see me as a true friend worth confiding in. Besides I told him everything, which usually had him yelling “OKAY!!! TMI” Sergio and I spoke IM at the hospital especially when we had to gossip in a crowded room. We didn’t always understand each other till I’d decided to start an IM dictionary. Just the other day I’d penned in OMG SSNWTSEA (oh my God, she should never wear those shoes ever again} but Sergio had crossed it out saying it wasn’t valid IM speak. Thinking about it now made me smile, if he wasn’t so besotted with his mystery sugar mama, maybe Serge and I could…..oh perish the thought! I was ashamed that I still had thoughts like this. It wasn’t as if I still carried a blazing torch for the guy, I just did not understand this chronic need to imagine us married. We got along so well, he made me laugh, he was so easy on the eyes, we were in the same profession. This was what a relationship was supposed to be like, right? We could just sit down and talk for ages, speak our secret speak and look smug when everyone else gave us the “Are you crazy look?”
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I was almost tempted to tell him that I’d been seeing mini- Sergios and mini-Vee’s running around in oversized diapers, instead I smiled, “Just checking in on my fantasy life”
He stretched to his 6 foot 2 frame, “Well good luck with that, reality calls. I gotta check in on my guys. Sure you can hold the fort on your own for a couple of minutes without falling asleep?”
I snored loudly and he chuckled as he strolled off. Was I really in love with my boyfriend I thought as I watched Serge disappear down the corridor? The way I figure, if I really loved him I wouldn’t “see” any other man, let alone the older-woman-obsessed-male-nurse I worked with. Maybe I was having a mid-life crisis, I thought and for now that was a much more comforting thought than trying to understand what it was I felt for Sergio.

The Balenciaga II

One of Nissah’s little cousins runs over to me with a party cracker, “Aunty Vee, see what they gave me” she says excitedly and pulls it to demonstrate. It goes off with a loud pop. I give a loud clap.
“Halima!” her mother snaps, “Are you trying to get me deaf?”
“Sorry Mum.” Halima says with a giggle. “I’ll get another one Aunty Vee” I watch amused as she runs off.
“Nissah, you and Vee should get something to eat” her aunt suggests. My spirits rise immediately.
“Do we have to go over to the table?” Nissah whines. Nissah has got to be the shyest person I know. She constantly worries she’ll trip and fall flat on her face in public.
Her aunt laughs, “Nissah, you’re never going to meet a man at this rate. If anyone should be hiding back here its Vee.”
My mouth drops open, what exactly is that supposed to mean? I storm off towards the nearest buffet table to keep myself from saying anything that would have me rushing to catch the 5;30 BRT every morning, which was exactly what would happen if I got kicked out of the Alcove Gardens pad. I was faced with absolute confusion as I reached the buffet table, I’d never seen so many different kinds of food in one place, some of which I had absolutely no idea what they were.
‘What would you like?” the immaculately dressed waiter asked me.
“Uhm. I think I need a minute.” Behind me I hear a soft laugh and when I turn I’m faced with the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. That’s the word. He’s beautiful, fair skinned with soft, almost feminine features, clean shaven, the exact opposite of my Seye. The kind of man I’m not attracted to but still I’m staring. Why am I staring? I blink and shake my head once. What’s that word, the one you’re supposed to say when you meet someone. Damn! He’s looking at me strangely.
“Oh, there you are!” a voice behind him says. A striking woman materializes and links her arm through his. It’s Miss Balenciaga. “We’re going inside for drinks”
“I’ll catch up, Phoebe” he says “I want to grab something to eat.”
“Oh just tell her what you want, she’ll bring it inside” she says waving a hand in my direction.
“Excuse me?” I say.
She peers closely at me, “Aren’t you Milli’s girl?”
“Who?” I can’t believe this. Do I look like a maid or a nanny? I’m a qualified doctor! I save lives. Well I will eventually.
She smiles, “oh sorry, you really look like Milli’s girl. Ray, well we’re inside when you’re done.” She hoists her Balenciaga on to her shoulders and stalks off. I’m standing there with the plate in my hand, so angry I can almost feel the smoke coming out of my ears.
“I’m sorry about that.” He says.
I say nothing. I’d had about enough. Suddenly I’m not hungry anymore. I drop the plate and smile at the waiter, “I’ll come back when I’ve made up my mind.”
Nissah and her aunt are nowhere to be found when I get back to the table. There’s a bottle of wine on the table and I help myself to a glass. I’m watching the children play. There are no clowns, just the party planners in matching T-shirts. I’d always wanted to do that, plan parties for kids I mean, I talked about it all through school with my friends. Nobody ever took me seriously. Hell, I didn’t take me seriously. Now, a part of me felt like the pregnant party planner had stolen my dream.
“You guys have to like stand in a line” her young assistant was shouting into the mike with enough attitude to go round ten Beverly Hill teenagers, the children pushed forward hoping to be the one to smash the piñata. You don’t talk to kids like that and expect results, I thought to myself. Children need motivation, the promise of a reward, a bribe, they don’t want to be told to move back so the stick doesn’t put out their eye. Hell, you could poke their eye out yourself if you promised to give them all the sweets in the pinata. Tell them all the kids in the line get a prize or something.

I’m getting bored and my stomach reminds me I’m still hungry but I don’t feel right. Where the hell is Nissah? Probably off meeting the Oderinde from Singapore while Vee is left to nanny the kids. Well, apparently i have Nanny-like feautures. Hissssss. I bolt to my feet as I spot Mahmud her 2 year old cousin scooping grass into his mouth.
“Hey Mud-man, don’t eat grass. Lets get you some posh grass to eat instead” I say as I pull a stray blade out of his mouth. I pick him up and wander to the buffet table again. I return to my seat with a plate brimming with all I could fit on it and settle Mahmud on my lap. I tear a piece of chicken and hand it to him.

A woman in a lovely green top with beautiful hair that can only be a Brazillian weave smiles at me, “hello. Are these seats taken?” she asks with a tinge of the upper-class British accent.
I shake my head, she turns and motions for someone to come over. Suddenly three nannies appear each carrying a child. Two of them are little girls in matching outfits. Twins.
“Oya, e joko.” She says in easy Yoruba and continues in a fluent string I cant understand. Yeah, yeah, 12 years in the west and I still don’t understand Yoruba but I figure she’s telling the nannies to feed the kids and that she’d be back to check on them. The nannies start to bark at the children immediately her back is turned, smacking their tiny hands with two fingers. Even Mahmud stares transfixed. The girls are twins dressed in matching outfits down to the red bows which seem to be hanging precariously from all of three strands of hair. One of the nannies takes out a huge bib with pink hearts and balloons and attempts to put it on the boy. He protests wildly, pushing it away. As I watch the other nanny take out an identical one and a twin obediently shimmies into it I understand his protests. Unfortunately “Nanny Mcphee” does not and deftly smacks the boy on the arm. He lets out a loud wail. I’m tempted to say something but I don’t. it’s not my business. Okay I don’t mean that in an I can’t be bothered way, it’s just none of my business.
Mahmud and I go through my meal in record time, okay me mostly but he had most of the chicken. I’m not one of those girls that agonize over their weight and eat tiny portions even Mahmud would turn up his nose at.
“Aunty.”
I look up and it’s Nanny Mcphee, “Yes” I say with what I hope is an easy smile.
“I fit to take the juice…for the children later”
I shrug, “Oh take it.”
She dips slightly as she takes it, “Thank you.” It disappears quickly into her bag.
The food gone, Mahmud gets disinterested and slides down my lap. I find myself alone, deciding that I’d get back at Nissah somehow. Maybe I’d wear her new Next top to work on Monday. It’d definitely stretch. Or I’d take the hygiene cap of her toothbrush, she has this fetish. I’m lost in my thoughts I don’t notice him till he sits down beside me.
“Hi” he says with a smile.
“Hi” I reply dryly. Suddenly I’m not impressed. He’s just a brat plus he’s not my type.
“I just came by to apologise for my friend. Phoebe is a bit absent minded.”
“Really?” I say “absent minded is locking your car keys in the car or forgetting to turn of the iron before you leave home, not assuming that everyone else who doesn’t carry a bag that costs the yearly budget of some families is a hired help.” I didn’t mean to rant, at least not to him, it just sort of came out.
“Well true. Like I said I’m sorry.”
“So what are you apologizing for exactly?” I say boldly, “your friend’s bad behaviour or how it reflects on you?”
He smiles revealing toothpaste ad perfect teeth. “Both.”
For a moment we’re silent, then he says “I’m Raymond.”
“I’m Vee.”
“as in…” he prompts.
“Yvette.”
“that’s a nice name.” he says.
“that’s a line.” I say
He laughs. “So what do you do?”
“I’m a doctor” I say with a glow. I’ve since overcome my need to say ‘I save lives’
“Oh that’s nice…it’s just that you seem rather young.”
“I get that a lot” I say dismissively like its no big deal as I ponder the possibility that he tweezes his eyebrows. He’s just too put together I think, no stray hair, groomed to perfection.
“So how do you know Milli?” he asks.
I shrug, “I don’t. I’m here with my friend and her family” I glance around, “well at least I was.”
He smiles and settles into his chair and suddenly I’m uncomfortable. I notice a few heads turning in our direction. Well his, all the women, married and unattached are staring at him shamelessly, probably wondering what he’s doing talking to Plain Jane. Don’t get me wrong I do not have a complex, I prefer to think of myself as a realist.
“so what do you do?” I ask him more out of want of something to say.
“I’m an investment banker”

“Oh, that’s nice” I say and then mentally kick myself, of all the unoriginal things that could pop into my mind, that was the best I could do?

He opens his mouth to say something else when my phone rings. I pounce on it quickly, “I’m sorry I have to take this outside.” Actually it’s not that noisy but I just need an excuse to leave, before I manage to shove the rest of my leg further up my mouth. I move hastily away from the noise.

To be continued................