I settle down again in my former position, curling into the chair.
“I’m Ebo,” the stranger says when he sits on his. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Nina. Nice to meet you too,” I reply, meaning it.
After a beat, he confesses, “I’m here to hide. You?”
I think about it. Technically, I’m not hiding. My people know where I am.
“I’m recharging my social battery,” I tell him.
He grins. “That sounds much better than hiding.”
Curious and taken in by his wide smile, I ask, “Who are you hiding from?”
“Terrorists!” he jokes, then laughs before saying darkly, “Just kidding, I’m hiding from my friends. But they might as well be terrorists because they’re terrorising me.”
That makes me laugh. “How are they terrorising you?”
“They have me taking too many shots. I have a decent threshold for alcohol, but I don’t like to get anywhere close to it.”
“And they won’t accept ‘no, thanks’?” I ask, tongue-in-cheek.
“I tried, but they’re all too happy,” he says. “And they keep celebrating in group shots.”
“Hmm… Hiding is a good idea then,” I tease.
“I knew you would understand,” he returns.
We stay in companionable silence for a while, then he asks, “Are you enjoying the event?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I love the atmosphere. The music is great, and I enjoyed the performers as well. I also love this place. It’s mostly quiet, but I can hear the faint tones of the music and view the sea from my comfortable perch here. It’s soothing.”
He flashes that wide grin again. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Then—“I know that you came here to relax, but do you mind if we chat a little? Please? I’m dying to speak to you.”
“Sure, we can talk a bit,” I agree, surprisingly eager to speak to him too.
We don’t talk a little; we talk a lot, and it’s surprising how easy it is to talk to him. His dry sense of humour matches mine, and we soon find ourselves apologising for our excessive laughter in the quiet place.
“Okay, Nina. I’m dying to know this. Are you single, married, dating, in a complicated relationship, or confused about your status?” he asks.
I snicker. “‘Confused about your status?’ Which one is that?”
He chuckles. “Well, there are people in relationships with people who aren’t sure of what they’re doing with the other person. I hope you’re not one of those.”
I snort. “I’m single. I hope you’re not confused about your status either.”
He grins. “Nope, I’m single too. This is great. I’m glad those terrorists chased me here.”
I tell myself not to get too excited, but it is hard. He’s the most intriguing person I have met in a long time. The fact that he’s also handsome and funny is a bonus.
“What is your genotype?” he suddenly asks, moving on from the casual discussions we were having earlier.
I raise a brow, looking at his handsome face in the soft glow of the room. “I’m AA.”
His grin makes my heart pause its usual work for a few beats. My heart’s unusual behaviour at his grin confuses me a little, and I almost miss it when he says, “That’s perfect because I’m AS!”
I don’t know how to react to that, so I just stare at him and await his next question.
“Do you want kids?”
“I’m not ready to have them now, but yes. Perhaps just one,” I answer with a shrug.
He nods. “One is perfectly fine, but could you be convinced to consider two?”
I think about it. “Maybe. I suppose it depends on the circumstances after the first child. It also depends on who does the convincing and how they do it.”
He nods. “That’s fair.” Then, “How do you feel about adoption?”
“I think it’s a wonderful option for couples who love kids and can afford to take care of them,” I reply honestly.
He nods again. “I agree. What do you think about surrogacy?”
“I’m on the fence on that because of several factors, but I would personally opt for adoption instead of surrogacy.”
His face stretches into a wide smile. “Finally! Someone who thinks like me!”
I chuckle at his exuberance and wonder what the next question will be. When it comes, it surprises me more than his earlier questions because it’s not something strangers discuss in this country.
“What do you think of LGBT rights?”
I pause, wondering where he is going with this and whether it will shatter the bubble we are currently in.
I decide to be honest. “I don’t think their rights should be in contention at all. They are human, so human rights should have been enough to cover them too.”
He looks oddly relieved and flashes the grin again. “I like you, Nina. Thank goodness you’re not homophobic. I have queer friends and family, so I’m particular about the people I let into my space.”
“I understand,” I say. “And I like you too, Ebo.”
His line of questioning is strange, considering we just met, but I also find it refreshing that he’s asking the important questions immediately. After I think that, I snort internally at my hypocrisy, knowing that the only reason I’m not getting annoyed is because I like him and am as interested in him as he is in me.
“Can you cook?” I ask him, starting my own line of questioning.
He shakes his head. “Not really. You?”
I shrug. “Not much.”
We stare at each other.
“We’re going to starve,” we both say at the same time, then dissolve into quiet laughter.
“Wait,” I say when we calm down. “What do you do for food now?”
“My dad. He gives me some of the food made for him by his cook. He’s the only part of my nuclear family in Ghana. My mother and sister are in Canada. And you? How do you eat currently?”
“My mom. She cooks for both of us. But twice a week, I order in so that she doesn’t have to.”
“Do you think they’ll still feed us when we live together?” he asks.
Usually, I would hate the implication that we would live together at such an early stage in our relationship, but with Ebo, I find that I don’t mind his boldness.
“I don’t know,” I finally reply. “Maybe. Or they might want us to figure it out since we’re two now.”
He thinks it over and then flashes me a smile. “I have an idea!”
The glint in his eye warns me that the idea will be ridiculous, and I can’t wait to hear it.
“Okay, hit me.”
He taps me lightly on my shoulder. “There you go.”
I snort. “You’re a funny guy, Ebo. Now tell me what crazy idea you’ve cooked up.”
Smiling, he says, “We could visit them often—in rotation. We can visit your mom and my dad three times a week each. They would have to feed us, right? They can’t let guests go hungry.”
I can’t help laughing again. “I have a better idea.”
“Hit me,” he says with a smirk.
I hit him lightly on his shoulder.
“You’re a funny girl, Nina. Now tell me the grand idea you’ve cooked up,” he parrots.
Amused with our silliness, I tell him. “You could try to learn how to cook your favourite meal from your dad’s cook, and I could do the same with my mom. What’s your favourite meal?”
“Boiled yam and garden egg stew with wele. I like plain rice with chicken stew as well. What’s yours?” he asks.
“I don’t think I have an absolute favourite meal, to be honest. But probably fried rice with grilled chicken and rice balls with groundnut soup. Oh, and I love beans stew and fried plantain!”
“Good! I love all of yours too. Do you like mine as well?” Ebo asks.
I nod. “That’s already five meals between the two of us. Do you think you can learn how to make those meals you like?”
He gives me a determined nod and says with a straight face, “I’ll try my best not to poison you.”
“I’ll try not to kill you either.” I volley back, then something occurs to me. “Wait… why am I doing three meals while you do two?”
He laughs. “You’re the one who mentioned three meals, but fine, I’ll learn a side dish to make up for it.”
“Good. If we manage to master those dishes, we can occasionally place an order from our favourite spots to supplement our meals. And also visit our parents regularly.”
He grins and gives me a high five. “Deal!”
I return his grin, revelling in our ridiculousness.
“I know it’s too early to say this, but I like you a lot, Nina. I am so happy that you came here today. I’m going to work to keep you around forever. Will you please let me?” he implores, looking more serious than he has been throughout our encounter.
My heart swells three sizes too big for my chest, and the irony almost makes me laugh out loud. I’ve always been disdainful of what I termed “love at first sight BS,” but here I was with a man I just met, and everything felt just right. My intuition is also telling me that this is right; this is perfect. What we both seem to be experiencing now feels like a dream.
“I like you a lot too, Ebo,” I reply. “And yes, I’m going to let you work on keeping me.”
That amazing grin that turns my heart into a somersaulting athlete flashes again, and I find myself grinning back.
“Ebo! There you are,” a female voice interrupts our moment, sounding extremely put out.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. Why did you disappear?”
Ebo groans beside me. “Obviously, I’m hiding from you.”
The lady rolls her eyes. “You can’t hide away. This event is your baby. The DJ for the next set wants to clarify something with you. I have been covering for you for the past hour, but I’m too tipsy now to deal with all these people on your behalf.”
“You guys chased me away with all those shots,” he defends, unrepentant. “It’s peaceful here.”
He smiles at me as he says the last part, and the lady’s attention is drawn to me.
“Excuse my rudeness, and I apologise for interrupting,” she tells me with an apologetic smile. “But we need the organiser for a few minutes.”
My eyes fly to him. Throughout our long conversation, he never mentioned that he was the organiser. I thought he was a guest like myself.
“How did you even find me?” he asks as he sits up, sliding his feet into his shoes.
“John brought some pillows to some guests and saw you in here,” she answers.
Ebo groans and turns to me again. “Nina, this is Becky. She’s my cousin and also co-owner of Wholesome Waves. Becky, this is Nina, my favourite person now.”
Becky smiles at me. “Nice to meet you, Nina. I hope you’re having a wonderful time, and this man is not disturbing you with too much talk.”
“I’m having a wonderful time,” I reply, chuckling.
Ebo scowls at her as he rises. “Enemy of progress.”
He turns to me with the demeanour of someone who doesn’t want to leave. “Please wait for me. I’ll return as soon as I deal with the issues.”
He looks worried that I won’t be here when he gets back, but he shouldn’t be.
“I won’t leave,” I assure him, heart skipping again when he flashes the smile that should be illegal.
“He’ll be right back,” Becky assures me.
“Becky, I have found my soulmate,” I hear him tell her as they leave.
Smiling, I curl up in my seat with my kimono around me, feeling warm and happy. I can’t wait to gloat to all the people in my life who kept saying I wouldn’t find a man by staying indoors. I just found my soulmate in the dark.
