Lovers Were Here

Red Hibiscus

Summer was heavy at the time, and really it was as the early hour’s sun flashed into the eyes of Mr. Fanny while he was in bed; Mrs. Fanny had let loose the blinds upon leaving the bathroom. 

“Oh, flying cheese!” Fanny exclaimed, with his pale oval face, which was still heavy with sleep. “What the hell is that?” With his palms, he masked the rays shooting into his eyes as he dug his hairy, unbuttoned body from the duvet.

“Morning sun,” said Mrs. Fanny, her red buttocks rolling in her black lingerie. “Get ready for work. We got bills to pay,” she remarked.

Her flabby bust welcomed him the moment she turned to the mirror opposite. Her athletic body gave a push in him. A daughter had passed through that body. Yes, only Kate had passed through that body, and yet she still appealed to him and seized his blood flow. Recently, she had abandoned her car and resorted to walking a few blocks before getting a taxi that would convey her to work. As a fitness nurse in her prime, she was in the business of preaching health to her patience by taking the lead; keeping a healthy body, long smooth face, housing beak nose, kiss-it lips, heaven-potter breasts, and a flat tummy that sank into firm hips and sizeable buttocks; the 45-year-old mother of one was dashing with charming features.

Mr. Fanny pouted his lips and said, “Your butt is gaining flesh. Did you do liposuction that I don’t know of?” He stood up at once, and he watched closely as her firm buttocks rolled with each step.

She stared in the mirror and swirled around to behold her backside, “Nothing as such. Or did you intend to say I have gained pounds?” she mumbled and felt him close by as his breath burnt hugely on her neck. “I didn’t let the sun wake you up so we could make love.” She turned to meet his drawn face.

He breathed into her face, “I love you and love you the more the day you gave me the best daughter on earth.” He held her arms, and she was still cold from the shower. He could feel her trembling body, and she could feel his zipper bulging with erection, and she needed him into her. Their faces about to meet for a kiss paused at the noise of a rustling sound from upstairs before a band from a studio buzzed through.

“Talk of the devil,” Fanny murmured as he gave an exhausted look and his hands parted her body.

A shrill voice of Blues hung across the whole house.

“How many times will I tell Kate to stop disturbing the neighborhood with her music? You gifted her studio, didn’t you? Now look at the nightmare she is causing us,” Mrs. Fanny quarreled.

“But I didn’t intend to give her nuisance.” He watched her squeeze into her tuxedo, and his thought smacked its lips at her lustful body. Ever since Kate started keeping certain friends, her attitude has changed drastically.

He was talking about friends like Tony, the most dreaded d*** kingpin in the neighborhood. In his twenties, Tony had huge thick features, which he earned from the gym. He was tall, with heavy facial features. His hairy thick chest and well-crafted tatted body had pulled a handful of girls to his groin. However, he loved calm and smart girls like Kate, and, of recent, he had fallen for her and would do anything to keep her by his side, even when he didn’t know what destiny held for them.

“Some days ago, I introduced her to Brian, and I expect the good guy to change her,” Mr. Fanny further said.

Brian was a total package altogether. In his twenties, he had humbled the most ruthless of boys in a calm, intelligent way. He was a logical young boy who brought about a solution with his reasoning rather than with his fist. However, he hadn’t tasted love since he was a teenager and would not mind falling in love now with the gentle, smart girl of his choice. He wasn’t that built, but his secret admirers had fancied his slender, fleshy body that made him a model.

The sonorous voice persisted in a rather offensive manner, and they both made to her studio.

“You are disturbing the neighborhood, ancient girl,” Mr. Fanny sounded at the door, and Mrs. Fanny stood by the corner, flogging her with her hostile look.

Kate was all smiles. She looked lavishly pretty this summer, and her tapering body said her age without much guessing. Like her mom, she had a gorgeous, ever-young body, and her ever-smiling face could bribe heaven. She was cute to the soul. At birth, her parents had wondered if she had an extra chromosome for beauty. Her nose was a replica of her father’s nose, and the crazy-over-you looks remained a mystery. But Mrs. Fanny had narrated that she inherited it from her grandmother.

She removed her ear pod and winced as though a needle dug into her flesh. “Am I going to keep reminding you two of my birthday every year?”

“Laughing hen!” Mr. Fanny exclaimed, gaping at her.

Kate sank into the chair, cloning into a sorrowful mood of disappointment.

Mrs. Fanny pulled to her and nursed her; she held her face, stroked her blonde ponytail, and pressed her face into her bust. “Pardon us, darling. We have no justification for our forgetfulness.”

“Accept our apologies.” Mr. Fanny added. “In that case, we are going to throw you a party tonight, sweetheart.”

“Yes, an expensive, ground-breaking party,” Mrs. Fanny said. “And the party will be scheduled for the late hour. Oh, I wish I could stop work just for today. Listen to me, Red Hibiscus,” she referred to Kate, “I’m going to return early for the party, OK? Your dad will return early for the party too.” She assured her.

Mr. Fanny cut in, “Hello, Cinderella, you’re alone. Today is my day off from work. I’m going to plan the party so you can join us later or be our guest. Kate deserves the dragon’s throne, and I’m going to fetch her one.” His brawl folded as he thought. “I will be having some issues; I have never planned a party before.”

Kate was all smiles now, and she felt well-nursed from her mother’s strokes on her hair.

“You just got yourself a new job; do it as you think. I got to be on my way. See you, angels, later.” She pecked Kate on the brawl, kissed her husband, and set out to work. “Do not plan a wag party,” she warned from the corridor.

“A quick reminder of what I can do,” he replied and squeezed his lips tauntingly.

Mr. Fanny picked up the phone to dial a few of his pals about planning a birthday party. He was leaving the studio when he barged in on a visitor.

Kate could hear voices but resumed her practice regardless.

“I just came to celebrate her,” the windy voice of the visitor said.

Mr. Fanny hesitated to gape at the gift, which the visitor held behind. “Oh, she likes flowers. She is going to appreciate it. Hope you are going to stay back for the party?” He smiled and kept to his phone call, walking downstairs.

He shook his crew-cut hair, “Yes.”

The visitor was Brian, a 20-year-old smart, I’m-a-survival kid from the neighborhood. They were family friends, and his parents had introduced him to Kate a few nights ago, and within his mind, a lot had happened; he had searched her profile on social media, found her smiling silly, memorized her name like history, surfed through her bio and saw her birthday was today. He hadn’t felt a thing for a girl before. He had in his hand a priceless bouquet of flowers he had bought for a girl his parents had introduced just a few nights ago.

Kate was so much carried away with her singing session. Her eyes were shut out of this world. She hadn’t noticed his presence. As she opened her eyes to behold her uninvited guest, her bloodstream turned to wine. Brian kept a thoughtful smile.

And she wondered what she was doing, whether she was smiling or not, her eyes as hard as flint.

“Hi, em,” she stuttered, smacking her lips and winking shyly. She took off her ear pod and initiated her contagious smile.

“Make yourself comfortable.” She directed him to a cane chair close by. “Have a seat.” She wanted to stop repeating herself, but the impossible was possible. And fighting back, her smile became uneasy.

“You got a nice voice,” Brian commended, his stares combing around and admiring her studio. “Gorgeous piece you have here.”

“Oh, this studio,” Kate replied, smiling and gaping around her studio. “It’s my father’s gift to me.”

“Really?” Brian said, smiling generously. “I got you another one,” he mumbled and pulled his hand from behind. “Happy birthday.”

“Oh, oh, I’m pleased, so colorful and…hmm…” she brought the bouquet to her nostrils. “It smells nice. I love it.” Her joy was a drumstick.

Brian stood, smiling. Oh, thank goodness she accepted it, he said in his head. “I got to go now.”

Oh, so soon, she wished she could say it out; she wished she could tell him to stay back till party hour; she wished he could be her companion for the moment, sing with her and tell her much about himself. She wished she could tell him a lot of things, things that only time could tell.

“My parents are giving me a shout, hope you will come around tonight.”

“Oh yes, I will,” he affirmed, blushing.

When he left, Kate discovered herself snared in a web of indescribable feelings. She only felt the smile that hung across her face, and her interest in hasting to the window to behold as he walked down the street – her gaze followed his youthful prance until he diverted into a white penthouse duplex. Good, he lives in my hood.

We have a lot to explore, she said thoughtfully, putting her hand on her chest to feel her dancing heart. She lay in bed, smiling at her thought – does he know my name and every snippet about me? Am I feeling a thing for this boy, or am I planning for a nightmare whose battleground would be regretful? No, he loves me and got me sweet-smelling flowers. She gazed upon the flowers, and the flowers gazed back.

She kept smiling and prayed to God to make the feeling real and not scoff. She sat up and reached for the flowers, stroked them, and brought them to her nostrils. He must be smelling of the same perfume, too, she said in her head. Her thought sped off like a ticking time bomb again – do flowers signify love? He got me flowers, but it doesn’t mean he feels a thing for me. It could be the only gift in the grocery store he visited; it could be his idea of a birthday gift for a girl; it could be out of his love for nature; also, giving could be a pushover for him.

It could be… it could be…

She sensed the raging war her thought was orchestrating, and then she snapped out of her thought, hoping to ask her mother or anybody blessed with the knowledge of flowers and their significance. She looked upon her ear pods and microphone and then let an easy sigh as she lay back – she had lost interest in her singing practice.

***

Brian barged in on his mother baking a cake in the kitchen. Her eyes caught him about taking the stairs. “Today is Kate’s birthday. I just want you to know.” She washed her hands in the runny water. “Her father phoned us about a party they will throw for her tonight.”

“Really?” Mom shouldn’t know I visited her, he said in his head.

“I’m baking her a velvet cake for a gift,” she implied, got hold of her coffee, and sipped swiftly. “What’re you giving her for a birthday gift?”

“Me?” he sighed, winked, and stroked his hair. “I have to ponder over it,” he replied.

She added, “Flowers would make an incredible gift.”

Brian flinched, and his heart rolled like a snooker ball hitting the four walls of the board radically. “Flowers? Tell me more,” he folded his arms and gave keen attention.

“Flowers celebrate the unimaginable divinity of womanhood and an encompassing rare feeling and honor for the opposite sex.” She smiled. “Oh,” her flawless fingers came on her bust, “Your father got me the nicest of flowers when he wooed me as a youth. He’s indeed a love robot.”

“A rare feeling?” He took a seat, expecting a further explanation.

He argued if Kate would see it in that light. Indeed his feelings for her were rare as the eggs of a dragon. “Where’s dad?” he asked.

She had dished out food in the dining room and knitted the edges of the table clothes. “He went to the golf.”

“I’ll be upstairs,” Brian said, being jostled by his troublesome thought.

“Son,” called his mother, “I haven’t been seeing much of you nowadays. Neighborhood security has snatched the better part of you. Gun violence is one plague that got no immunization.”

“Can we discuss that later, mom? I got to laze this head upstairs,” he ran up the staircase.

“Lunch is served,” she said, watching Brian disappear out of sight.

“Best eaten at leisure,” beamed Brian from somewhere close to his room.

He banged the door and rested on it before listening to his thought replay his mother’s words – flowers would make an indelible gift… and an encompassing rare feeling and honor for the opposite sex. He sank in his bed and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully – Kate might have hurled the flowers into a corner and continued with her music. Was he that quick to go? He should’ve stayed back. That was too bossy with sprinkles of pride. She loved him already, which was evident in her asking him to stay back. He hissed, and his thought spoke on – her eyes welcomed me into her life, and in her heart were mansions built of roses. He snapped out of his thoughts, reached to his mobile phone, and flipped to her photos, the ones he downloaded from her social media account, and he drowned in a cloud of smiles. He was going to be in his best clothes and glory because tonight wasn’t a birthday but his first date.

His thought came knocking again, and it hung around Kate. He busied himself with it until the day dissipated to the night.

Steamy romance loomed on…