The story of fate and destiny Chapter 8 The Mother Writing in progress. If you
“If you lay down and make a baby, then stand up and be a daddy”
It was Stanley’s new girlfriend that got the door. She was half cladded in her undersized lacey bra with one hand clutching a towel over her humongous bosom. She was barefooted and had water dripping all over her body.
She froze as confusion hit her with multiple shots, her gaze turned first from George to the baby carrier and then back to George. Even though George was a fan of well-endowed ladies, this half-naked one, standing between the door and himself, was the least of his worries. He shoved roughly past her, at the very instant the baby started a soft whimper, as though to urge him on.
“The child can smell her father” George lent humor a moment in his thoughts.
“Where is Stanley?”
“Stanley!!” he called out in haste.
Stanley had his girlfriend’s black lace panties wrapped around his head when he opened the door into the living room.
George had clearly interrupted a kinky sexual performance in the middle of a work day!
“So, what is the meaning of this nonsense? And whose baby have you brought to my house, George” Cladded only in a soft white towel right from his waist, Stanley yanked off the g-string around his head as he took slow strides into his living room.
“I have brought your baby home. Adora left her in my office this morning. You’d better go clean up your mess” George turned to leave as he carefully placed the carrier on the marble dining table, careful not to wake the sleeping infant.
“You must be kidding me. How is this any of my business? Return the baby to her mother” Stanley’s voice had a no-contest edge to it. “Please take this bastard to whoever you got it from”
His nosy girlfriend walked close to the baby carrier peering in as though looking through a trash can, one finger lifting the handle to get a glimpse of the infant’s face.
“Don’t touch that child Ulo” Stanley barked. She froze and backtracked to a corner.
George stood there perplexed, beads of sweat starting to break out on his forehead as he watched his friend in complete disgust and horror. There was no way he was going to take that child back to his office or even to his home. His wife had constantly warned him about Stanley and how someday it would get him into serious trouble. She saw no good in their friendship. He was starting to wonder if that day had just arrived.
“George please get out of my house with that…that…..that….thing” he struggled to objectify the child.
George offered no response, shook his head twice before walking towards the door when a strong hand gripped his swinging arm from behind, jolting and yanking him backwards.
“I am talking to you George” Both men felt the tension within the house and the intensity in Stanley’s tone was confrontational. They were now face to face within each other’s breath waiting for the next move.
George hadn’t lost his cool since university days when he was reputed to be more rascally, but he swung a strong clenched fist first, hitting Stanley right between his eyes, knocking him into his sofa. For a moment, Stanley thought he had docked the punch. But it was delivered to hurt.
“Don’t you ever touch me again” George spat the words out like venom with spittle dribbling off his lips.
“You punch like a sissy” Stanley grinned, flashing blood-stained teeth as Ulo tried to help him out of the sofa.
Stanley sprang up from the sofa like a wounded animal and lunged at his friend, starting a scuffle that saw them trade blows after blows as they knocked over glass stools, wall paintings, the glass aquarium, the wooden bookshelves, the settee, flower vases and even the standing lamps. They took turns to throw punches, fast and aggressively at first, then slow and spent later on.
“Stop fighting!” Ulo could only scream as she struggled to keep the towel over her bosom while her other hand made feeble attempts to separate the fighting duo. The towel fell off a couple of times and she had to scamper to cover her bare skin.
The men grunted with labored breaths as they soon tired out, both men swearing and cursing to deal with the other. But keeping a safe distance as they caught their breath.
Swollen eyelid on one, distended and oversized lips adorning the other. They had done a number on themselves. Heavyweight boxers would be green with envy at their sight.
George looked in pity at his creased shirt, as he dusted off soil displaced from one of the flower vases in the living room they had knocked over. He spat out a goldfish from the broken aquarium. He had no idea how he had a dead fish between his teeth.
It angered him even more. “I am calling the police” he threatened as he fumbled through his pocket for his mobile phone. Screen already badly broken he struggled to scroll through his contact list.
Both men dialed their contacts in the police force as Stanley locked the front door ensuring no one left the house.
A few weeks to the birth of their child, Adora and Stanley got into a heated fight. Stanley was spending time with Rose, the surrogate mother to their unborn child, without her knowledge.
She found out by looking through his mobile phone while he slept off after a night of heavy drinking and partying. She wouldn’t have raised any eyebrow if she hadn’t read a chat that confirmed they had also been having several bouts of sex in the early stages of the pregnancy.
That night, she was heartbroken. She wept loudly in the toilet while he slept. She contemplated tracing the lines in his neck with a well-sharpened knife from the kitchen drawer after she had cried her eyes sore, but opted to slowly poison him instead. That would be the most excruciating death she would wish on him rather than the messier first option.
When she confronted him the next morning, he wasn’t having any of it. They had a shouting bout. Adora lost her cool, thrashed the house and physically assaulted him. It was the biggest and the last fight between the love birds.
Stanley walked out of their apartment and never returned. Adora groaned in emotional pain and wondered if she should have picked the first, messier option, when she had the chance.
Two sets of uniformed police officers arrived at Stanley’s apartment that afternoon. A crowd of onlookers had gathered at his front door. Some had their phones camera facing the door as Stanley swung it wide open to allow the officers into his living room.
The house looked like a hurricane had swept through. Thankfully, the baby still slept peacefully in the carrier. George wondered what his secretary had fed her with. He was grateful they didn’t have to contend with a crying child during the scuffle.
The blinding pain in his swollen left eye caused both eyes to twitch uncontrollably. He felt a tad uncomfortable. His necktie was wrapped around his right knuckles to ease the pain that Stanley’s bones had caused when he thrust them into his face.
Ulo was already properly dressed, even though all she had for cloths was a skimpy mini skirt that barely covered her bosom. This time George ogled. What can a man do?
Even the police officers struggled to keep their eyes on the dispute they had come to resolve.
Both friends, now decently dressed, took turns to lay their complaints, each baring their thoughts as calmly as they could.
One hour of deliberation ended with the policemen agreeing that the child should remain with the father. If you are not ready to be a father why then did you have a baby they seemed to be asking even when they weren’t saying it.
Stanley’s argument was that he wanted nothing to do with the child and no one sought his consent before bringing the child to his home.
They asked George to leave the premises and desist from contacting Stanley on the issue.
Fair judgement you would say.
George tipped the officers generously before picking up what was left of his cloths, ego and face before walking out of the door into the crowded front porch of the apartment where gossips had laid siege with their phones.
There was no way he was going back to the office looking beat up. He opted to go home. He had some explaining to do to his wife.
He was glad the issue got resolved even if it cost him his best friend.
Stanley believed he got the short end of the stick, but what did he expect?
Later that evening, while George laid face-up on his bed with icepacks on his swollen eye, his phone rang. Through the crackled screen he could tell it was his mother.
“George, your friend Stanley just left here few minutes ago. He left behind a baby in a carrier. He told us he was going to use the visitors’ toilet and we haven’t seen him since then. Can you call him please?”
How do we resolve this impasse? Please drop your thoughts in the comment section.
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