Her hero

Nathan

It is a day before the funeral when we discover that Amari’s mother’s body is no longer at the hospital mortuary.

“I am so sorry, Ma’am. The bill was indeed settled. We called the only number on the system to enquire about the funeral arrangements and Mr Brown told us to let the municipality bury her,” the mortuary manager says sincerely while my wife breaks down.

I take deep breaths, suppressing my anger and hold my distraught wife’s hand.

“How do we get her body back?” I ask the manager and he scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“She might be buried already, but you can call this number or go to the address,” he advises and hands me the piece of paper.

I thank the manager and pull my wife outside while wheeling myself with one hand.

I pull her to my lap the moment we reach the corridor. I can feel her body trembling.

“Amari, look at me,” I urge and she complies. My heart breaks at her broken state. I can’t believe that Thomas would be so cruel to his brother’s daughter.

“I need you to go back home and let me handle this. I will find your mother’s body. She will be buried the way you want her to be,” I reassure her.

A few minutes later, I get into one of the few wheelchair friendly cabs around here and head to the municipality offices. I could have instructed Brian to handle this, but it is very important to me that the mother-in-law I never met is handled with dignity. Two hours later, I am at the municipality offices with no way forward. Reversing the stupid decision by Thomas is not so simple. It does not help that I am a nobody and everyone feels like they are doing me a favour when they are actually doing their jobs.

It’s another hour when I finally meet the manager. A chill descends from my spine when he informs me that the mass burial was an hour ago.

“You will dig her up,” I say firmly, my rage threatening to explode. They could have stopped the burial had someone listened to me when I arrived here three hours ago.

“I am afraid we can’t dig a grave with over fifty bodies in it. That’s a laborious and costly exercise,” he says dismissively, pissing me off.

“I don’t care. I want that body right now!”

The guy starts laughing. “You must have forgotten that you are no longer a big shot,” he sneers. “I don’t get commanded by a penniless, impotent cripple. Get out of my office!” he yells before instructing the guards to throw me out. I feel really humiliated while the guards and employees make fun of me.

I am once again shocked and disappointed by the change of reception I am receiving because of my status. These people have no idea who I am. I will show them.

I text Brian and instruct him to inform their minister that unless the stupid manager is fired, and I have my mother-in-law’s body, UNLF-Co is cutting off all their funding.

“What are you waiting for? Go away!” one guard tells me. I ignore him and check the time of my phone. Five minutes later, I have a very apologetic senior manager attending to me. The guards who threw me out can’t even maintain eye contact with me, nor the other employees who sent me from pillar to post earlier.

“I am so sorry about that misunderstanding, Mr Lord. The body will be dug up, cleaned and sent to the funeral pallor of your choice,” the senior manager informs me.

“That’s all I came here for.”

“I am so sorry about that, Sir.”

I nod and leave the offices. I should be thrilled that this is sorted, but I am disappointed at how different people receive different services from the same people who are paid by taxpayers money. I would have never l managed to get the body back had I truly been poor and disabled.

I am in the corridor when I meet the manager I dealt with earlier. He is carrying a box full of stuff.

“You are nothing. How did you get me fired?” he enquires while I shake my head.

“Being poor does not make me nothing. I might be a nobody in your eyes, but I still have friends and connections. Never judge people based on their status,” I tell him and wheel myself out.

It’s the afternoon when I arrive at the apartment and find my wife laying in bed. Her red swollen eyes are a tale tell sign that she has been crying.

I climbed on the bed and pull her to lay her head on my chest.

“It’s done. The funeral pallor will deliver her body to your church in the morning.”

She lifts her head to study my face.

“You…you got her back?”

I nod and wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks. She smiles and plants a kiss on my cheeks. It’s an innocent gratitude kiss, but it makes my heart flutter.

“Thank you, Nathan. You have no idea how much this means to me. I would never be at peace if I failed to honour her last wish to have her ashes sprinkled in the valley like daddy’s,” she says and I can’t help but trace her oval jaw with my finger.

“You are welcome, Mrs Lord,” I say before our lips meet into a passionate kiss. I curse inside and break off the kiss when heat starts rising from my belly. I remind myself that I am supposed to be impotent. Besides that, Amari is too vulnerable right now. I might be her husband but I never want to take advantage of her.

She blushes when our eyes meet. My wife is a beauty!

I am still marvelling at her beauty when she sits up and tries getting off the bed.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“I’m going to make you something to eat. You must be starving.”

I hold her hand, preventing her from leaving. “Stay. I will sort out the food today.”

She narrows her eyes questioningly at me when I leave the bedroom and return with takeaway packages.

“I do earn a disability grant. It’s not much, but it should help a bit,” I explain. More like lie through my teeth.

“And you got me food?”

The admiration in her eyes when she asks this melts my heart.

“I have to pamper my wife,” I tell her and see her cheeks get flushed.

“My hero,” she declares and starts eating. My heart dances at her declaration. I can’t believe that I spent a fortune on exorbitant gifts for Ella and this woman is this grateful for a simple takeaway meal.

“You are very easy to please,” I point out and she laughs.

“That’s what you said ten years ago.”

I frown at her statement.

“You really don’t remember?” she reads through me.

“Remember what?”

“We were paired together in fifth grade for a science project,” she reminds me.

“I remember that. We were going to do osmosis and diffusion model. I was having so much fun and you dished me.”

She looks at me like I have grown horns.

“I dished you? I had an operation for a fractured arm, my punishment for being paired with you!” she cries while I shake my head in disagreement.

“No, you broke your arm jumping off the window to go to some boy,” I refute her words. I might not recall the details but I remember this part.

She shakes her head in defeat before exclaiming. “Wow!”

I frown at her expression. That’s what Ella told me, but I now know better than believe that. I can already tell from her response that what I know is far from the truth.

“Tell me what happened?”

“You were very excited about our findings and kissed my cheek,” she says softly.

“I did?” I ask and her face immediately turns scarlet. I don’t recall this part, but I clearly remember how excited I was about that project and how disappointed I was when she did not come to school for a month after that. I never spoke to her after that and she didn’t either.

“Anyway, your girlfriend must have seen it. She broke my arm and claimed that it was an accident.”

I am not surprised by this. Every girl who flirt with me had an accident of some sort and each time Ella was somehow involved. I remember threatening to end things with her if that continued. I don’t know if it stopped or she just found a way of covering her acts.

“Did she see you blushing when I kissed you?” I enquire when she avoids meeting my eyes.

“What? No!” her defensive response gives her away.

I can’t help but chuckle at the discovery that my wife might have had a crush on me ten years back.

“I am so sorry I was not there when you needed saving back then. I can’t believe that I missed a chance to be your hero and get a proper kiss,” I tease and she rolls her eyes.

“Charming and mischievous. You have not changed a bit!”

“But, I have, wife. My charms are only reserved for you now.”

“Don’t,” she warns.

“Don’t what?” I press on.

“Don’t make utterances you can’t keep. You are Nathan Lord, every girl’s dream. Just…”

I don’t let her complete her sentence but cover her lips with mine. I break off the kiss when my manhood starts reacting. I have to learn to restrain myself.

“I will always keep my promises to you. Always,” I vow, meaning every word.