A Mini Sneak Peek at My Next Novel
Marilyn Baidoo paced the kitchen of a high-rise apartment, her emotions a cocktail of anxiety and child-like giddiness. Her boyfriend of two years had proposed the night before, which meant she hadn’t slept a wink, partly from excitement, and partly from contemplating how to break the news to her other mother. She’d spent the morning calling, screaming and of course, checking out wedding gowns. Everyone had been thrilled.
But Aunt Rida wasn’t everyone.
“If you’re going to stay, you’re helping with lunch.” Aunt Rida came up behind her. It was a rare sight, Rida Coker at home on a Saturday, cooking. Her timing was perfect.
Marilyn cleared her throat. “I have good and not so good news.”
Aunt Rida fetched a wooden ladle and stirred the tomato sauce simmering on her electric cooker. “You know which one to lead with.”
“Promise you won’t be angry.”
“Okay. What did you do?”
Marilyn clasped her hands behind her, hoping she hadn’t seen it yet. “I rejected the offer.”
Aunt Rida turned, her eyes narrowed. In a beat, they widened. “What?”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Wait. Hold on. You’re telling me you rejected the offer from EKO Energy, the same one that resulted from the interview you begged me to get you?”
“Uhuh.”
She frowned. “Is this a joke?”
Marilyn ran her thumb over the ring that had just found a place on her left hand. Why was it so hard to do this? She was twenty-six, and still, Aunt Rida made her feel like a little girl.
“It’s Cyril.”
“What does your boyfriend have to do with this?”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out, so she stretched out her hand. The blue diamond sparkled. “He proposed last night.”
Aunt Rida didn’t fall to her knees or break into songs of praise like her mother had.
“I see,” she said and turned her attention back to her sauce.
Marilyn curled her fingers into a fist. She hadn’t expected much enthusiasm, given Aunt Rida’s stance on the institution of marriage, but her nonchalance hurt nonetheless. “You don’t approve.”
“Does it matter what I think?”
“Of course. You’re my mum.”
She dropped the ladle in the sink and turned. “Alright. Then yes, I don’t approve. Are you going to return that?”
Marilyn stood straight. Okay. She’d asked for it. “Well, let’s talk about it. Cyril loves me. He’s good for me. You said it yourself.”
“That doesn’t translate to ‘throw away your future to be with him’. You’re only twenty-five. Why rush into marriage when there is so much you can do with your life?”
“I’m twenty-six, and getting married is what I want to do with my life.”
“Oh grow up, Marilyn. You have great potential. A ring changes everything. Don’t you see that? And don’t tell me you don’t want the job anymore because I know you.”
“You’re right. I do want a great job and everything that comes with it. I want a big house and a nice car, to be like you, but not if it means my children will be raised by strangers. They told me there’s a lot of travel involved and they have this crazy schedule. I don’t think it’s right for me. Not at this time.”
Aunt Rida did nothing to hide her disbelief. Marilyn understood. She’d never told her any of this on the countless occasions they had discussed her future.
“You have to think this through. A job like this won’t come by that easily.”
“A man like Cyril won’t come by that easily.”
“Ha. That’s your mother talking.” She shook her head. “Like I said, no point wasting my breath.”
Marilyn wrapped her arms around her, dropped her chin on her shoulder and squeezed. “I know this isn’t what we discussed, but can you please support me, pretty please? I’ve prayed about it. I don’t want to wait and end up …”
“Like me?”
“No, of course not,” she said, glad her aunt couldn’t see her mortified expression. “I just … I really really want to get married.”
Aunt Rida held on to her arm. Clearly, she was disappointed, but she’d never been one to impose her will on her, one of the traits she wished her mother shared with her sister.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Marilyn smiled. Cyril was right about her powers of persuasion. Cyril. Just the thought of being his wife, becoming Mrs. Adu-Gyamfi, waking up beside him every day … She sighed.
“I do.”
Thanks for reading the prologue of my novel, Leaving Us. I can’t wait to type the final word and share the whole story with you. So, how was it? Let me know in the comment section. You’ll be supporting a worthy cause, I promise. Brutal honesty welcome. 🙂
