HER BABY’S SECRET
SERIE TWENTY- NINE
THEME: The story of us
Arike’s POV
Iteoluwa would be really disturbed and shocked if we bump into Adedayo without her knowing the truth and my reasons for not making her meet her father before now.
I sighed. “Iteoluwa-“ I called out her name in a tight whisper.
“Yes mom.” She looked up at me.
Then I remembered the day my mom had me in her arms this way, telling me about how she had me without any support from the man who fathered me. And it felt like I was looking at my younger self.
“Mommy-“ her tiny voice jolted me out of thought.
“Yes..” I mumbled.
“What do you want to say?” She asked.
I repositioned her head to rest on my chest. “Iteoluwa, do you remember the day you asked me about my dreams?” I asked.
“Yes mom..when teacher Brianna asked us to talk about our dreams with our parents.” She answered.
“Yes sweetie.”
That was last year, it was close to career day at her school and teacher Brianna had asked every kid in the class to talk about what they would like to become in the future and dress the same way to school for the career day.
“Yes..and you said that you wanted to be an author who writes children books.” I reminded.
“Yes mom, I want to write stories children can read at bedtime and have a good night sleep with big smiles in their faces.” Iteoluwa replied with excitement as she peered up at me.
“I know..my love.” I kssed her forehead.
“You said that.. you didn’t have a dream.” Her face turned sad.
I had a dream which I fulfilled but I had to give up everything for her.
I shook my head. “I am sorry, but I lied to you.”
Her forehead creased. “Why mom?” She asked.
“That is why I want to tell you everything.” I replied.
“Okay..I am listening..and I won’t hate you for lying to me.” She said with a childish smile.
“Thank you, sweetie.” I kissed her forehead again.
I held her tiny hands in mine. “I was born in Nigeria and as a little girl I wanted to be a lawyer.” I said.
“Oh wow! A lawyer! That’s supercoool! But mom, did you get to be a lawyer?” She asked.
“Yes I was a lawyer before I had you in America.” I answered.
“Were you a lawyer in America?” She asked.
“No, I was a lawyer in Nigeria.” I answered.
“So why did you relocate to America?” She glanced up at me, curiosity clearly written on her expression.
“Iteoluwa..the thing is-“ I paused.
“Is it because of my dad?” she blurted out.
My eyes widened in sheer surprise. “I heard you..talking about him..with Mr Bamidele.” She said in a low tone.
I thought Iteoluwa was asleep that day and I couldn’t stop thinking how much she must have heard.
“Iteoluwa?”
“Tell me the truth..mom..I want to know about him.” She said.
I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. “Please..don’t cry.” I whispered.
“I just..want to know about my daddy.” She admitted and wiped her face clean.
The only time Iteoluwa asked me about her dad was when teacher Brianna informed them to bring their parents to school for family day. Prior to this day, she had asked me why she didn’t have a dad like other kids in her school when even the children in the foster home had fathers.
And somehow I had managed to tell her that her father was somewhere far away making money for us. So I never attended family day at her school except when Daniel offered to act like a father, and we had won gifts as a family.
“Iteoluwa..your daddy-“
“Don’t tell me..he doesn’t want to see me.” She mumbled with a sad look on her face.
“No..no..that is not the case.”
“Then what..is it?” She asked.
“Your daddy..was my best friend. We were so close that I loved him but didn’t realize it until I lost him.” I narrated everything to her only leaving out details that wasn’t suitable for her age till when I relocated to America.
“So daddy..doesn’t know about me yet?” She asked.
I shook my head. “I was scared of what would happen if he finds out about you.”
“Mom, what about you?” She asked.
And it took me a while to understand her question.
“Are you..ready to see him?” She questioned with a pleading look on her expression.
“I am sorry..it took long..to open..up to you.” I stuttered, knowing that that my response didn’t answer her question.
She nodded. “Mom, it is alright if you don’t want to meet my dad.” She managed to flash me a small smile.
And awkward silence spread as I struggled for something else to say. I was so locked up in my thought that I didn’t notice Iteoluwa’s head was already off my chest and she was laying on the bed with her singing doll close to her chest.
“Sweetie-“
“It doesn’t..matter mom, it has been me, you, grandpa, grandma and everyone at the home-“ she paused and continued after some seconds.
“I don’t..need a dad.” She said shakily.
“I am sorry, sweetie.” I apologized.
Iteoluwa gave me a small smile as let go of my hand and covered herself with the duvet. I tried to help her but one look and then I knew she was avoiding me.
She had promised not to hate me but the action was more than anything. Her words was spoken quietly but too mature for her age.
And the pain in her smile convinced me that my child missed having a father far more than I have ever known.
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