Lady Baby

3

Sharon took a vow of silence. That had to be it. All through the trip, even when they went about checking in and boarding their flight from Manchester to Lagos, Sharon refused to speak a word to Max. She went about it all like she was flying solo, even looking past him on some occasions.

It wasn't any different when they drove from the airport to uncle Olu's farm. The silence in the car was thick. She wouldn't give him directions so he had to resort to Google Maps. He had to admire her will—it was ironclad. She made him handle all the preparation for the journey. She may have seen it as a sort of punishment but Max was happy with the task. He loved visiting Nigeria every chance he got. It brought fresh inspiration for his art.

When Max couldn't take the silence anymore, he cleared his throat. "Babe... there's a tennis court at the ranch, right?" He glanced at Sharon as he asked the question. She was staring—no, glaring at the book resting on her lap. Max was certain she hadn't flipped a single page in the last fifteen minutes.

"Yes." If a reply could bite, Max wouldn't have a head cause her 'yes' would have bitten it clean off his shoulders.

"Look, I am sorry, okay? I didn't know you wanted me to say no." He chanced another glance to see if she'd react to his apology. 

Snapping her book shut, Sharon removed her reading glasses in one deft get-ready-to-die move and turned to face him fully. Her brown eyes sparkled with the fire of her rage. 

"Why didn't you say you were busy with one of your pieces? I have only one vacation in a year! One! Couldn't you be considerate enough to know I wouldn't want to spend it on a ranch in the middle of nowhere!" Sharon's voice rose with each word.

Max sighed, shoulders slumping as a sudden wave of weariness overcame him.

"First off, the ranch is not in the middle of nowhere. Secondly, I do not understand you. I like your uncle a lot, I couldn't just brush off his request. We haven't seen the man since our wedding. You expected me to tell him no?"

"Are you guilt-tripping me?" Sharon's left eyebrow twitched.

"Stop it." Max was beginning to get pissed. "I'm sorry, okay?" He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I am sorry for making you spend seven days with your uncle and me." 

"Sorry doesn't fix everything. I'm certain you flew at the invitation because you wanted a change of environment," Sharon muttered before replacing her reading glasses and turning back to her book.

Max clenched his jaw in angry frustration. She was quite right. He was an artist and knew the change of environment might inspire him to come about beautiful pieces, but that wasn't his only reason for coming. He needed a break... with her. Who knows? Maybe the time they'd spend with her uncle might make a difference. Wasn't the man married to his wife for what? Thirty-two years?

Recently, all the pieces he worked on were dark and depressing, and Max knew it was because of his failing marriage. All that doom and gloom was taking a toll on his works. He was walking on the brink of depression and his unstable feelings towards his wife weren't helping.

Sharon didn't look bothered by their issues. No, she was too perfect for that. Max huffed. The day they first met at that parking lot felt like ages ago--something that occurred in some alternate universe. When he thought of it, he marveled at their vast differences. Why he hadn't seriously considered it during the time they dated was a mystery to him.

Sharon was obsessed with perfection but he loved things comfortable. By comfortable, he meant a sock here, a book on the floor, a coffee mug on any flat surface, and his feet on the center table—which was their rightful position by the way. Center tables were made for feet. But Sharon never understood. She even demanded he uses a coaster. Pfft!

Early in their marriage, Sharon always nagged about his lack of proper hygiene and penchant to not clean up after himself. In reply, he had been quick to point out that he had his bath twice a day and brushed his teeth, too. To him, that was hygienic enough. But if it were left to Sharon, she would make him bathe with bleach and polish his skin. He grimaced.

Max found it hard to understand why the sight of boxers on the floor drove her crazy. Was that even worth her time? Serious things were happening in the world and all it took to get her frothing at the mouth was a pair of boxer briefs on the floor? Max shook his head. He always refused to 'clean up after himself' whenever she began her complaining tirade.

"We won't be staying  for seven days."

Max glanced at Sharon before facing the road again. "Why? I've already told your uncle we would be staying for a week."

"We will tell him something came up then leave," Sharon said with calm dismissal.

"We?" Max laughed.

"What's funny?" 

He refused to look at her as he laughed some more. When he did look, he sighted a thin facial vein at her temple, a telltale sign that she was seething. He sucked in his lips and fought the mad urge to bray like a donkey.

"Keep me out of your lies. I intend to enjoy this little vacation. If you want to race back to Manchester, I can drop you off now."

When Sharon remained silent, Max chose to push her buttons some more.

"Babe, don't ruin your vision. I think you're staring at that book too hard." Max burst into fresh laughter and wiped little beads of tears off the corners of his eyes.

"I married a child," Sharon mumbled as she adjusted her reading glasses atop her cute little nose.

"Married a child, huh?" Max sat straighter, his laughter dying immediately. "Me? I think I married a severe version of my mum. You keep telling me what to do and you don't even admire my pieces anymore. You are a terrible mum, Sharon."

When he heard Sharon mutter strings of words under her breath, he inclined his head to the right. "I'm sorry, mum, what did you say?" 

"You missed the turn, take the next one," Sharon said through gritted teeth.

When he got to the next turn, he navigated the rented Jeep along the dirt road.

There were a few houses scattered about with roofs so rusted they now possessed a deep red colour. This kind of roofing was peculiar to Ibadan, it made the place look like a collage of brown, red, and light gray. The landscape was so clean and green, and the air smelled fresh.

"Nice." Max smiled and waved at some children rolling bicycle tires along the road. He could feel his fingers twitch, inspiration was already coming.

When Max turned to Sharon to see if she was enjoying the scenery, all her focus was on her phone. An intense urge to snatch the device, fling it out the window, and make her notice her surroundings overcame Max. But he took a deep breath, shook off the feeling, and chose to concentrate on the road once more. After some minutes of driving, he saw the signboard of the farm.

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I told myself if I'm ever to write a 'romance story', I'd make it feel as real as possible.

Sure, it's good to get lost in a good 'fairytale' romance that's almost not in touch with reality, but I figured it'd be more interesting to see the gritty stuff that sometimes happens in relationships.

Fear not though, happy ending all the way.

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