Beyond the Frame Chapter 13

“I heard about the kiss,” Grace said later that evening.

They were at Victoria’s apartment, and Grace was helping her make dinner.
Victoria watched Grace stir-fry a mix of vegetables with olive oil and black pepper.

“He kisses and runs off,” Victoria said, checking the time on her microwave. It was almost eight o’clock. “He said he would call, but it has been hours.”

“Things must be going well if you’re waiting for his calls.” Grace winked at her. “You know those first days of a relationship. Will he call? No, he won’t. Why isn’t he calling?”

Victoria laughed.

“And the ‘damn it, he didn’t call, I won’t talk to him.’”

“Then he calls.” Grace picked up the pan from the cooking range and, with dramatic flair, served the vegetables on two plates. “The heart flutters, nervous energy, walking around the house while you talk, your finger twirling in your hair or weave.”

“Gosh, we’re not in university, Grace.”

“But you know it’s going to happen anyway,” Grace said with a smile, placing the pan in the sink. “I cook; you clean.”

“As always,” Victoria said, turning on the water to soak the pan. “What do you do at home with your husband?”

“I got a housekeeper,” Grace said, taking their plates to a table by the window.

Victoria had already set a bowl of rice in the middle of the table and a bowl of fruit salad. She took a jug of fresh orange juice from the fridge and carried it to the table.

“A housekeeper,” Victoria said, her right brow rising in question.

The last housekeeper in Grace’s house had left amid suspicion of an affair with Grace’s husband.

“Don’t worry. I have this handled. She comes in at nine o’clock. My husband is long gone to work by then, and she’s supposed to leave by three in the afternoon. Hubby comes in late in the evening.”

Grace sat down and poured juice into their glasses.

Victoria sat too and served the rice.

“What if he comes during the day?”

“I have people who tell me what’s going on.” Grace sighed. “I trust him, though. I have to, Vicky. If I didn’t, I would end up stalking him in his office, and you know how that would look.”

“He’s a good man,” Victoria said, needing to assure Grace, “better than most, Grace.”

“Girl, don’t I know it.” Grace took a bite of the food and paused to savor the taste. “Good, I’ll make this for him on Sunday night.”

“I’m always your guinea pig,” Victoria said, taking a bite too. The stir-fry was good, the taste of pepper bursting in her mouth. It was delicious. “Does he know I taste the food before it gets cooked for him?”

Grace grinned.

“Nope, he thinks I’m the best darned cook in the world.”

“He should know.” Victoria shook her head. “Why the precious dinner on Sunday?”

“His mother is coming into town tomorrow.” Grace shuddered and reached for her orange juice, taking a healthy gulp. “This is my last day of freedom until Sunday. I will turn into a grumpy dragon until then. I’m the one who’ll call you with emergencies.”

Victoria sat back to study Grace.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“I wish I could infuse my veins with alcohol until my mother-in-law goes back home, but she’ll smell it and call me a drunk. I can’t do anything right with that woman,” Grace said. “Do you know she’s coming to get money to send her youngest daughter to college? I’m paying half of that money, and she’s still going to be critical and mean with me.”

“What will you do when you have kids of your own?”

“Hang her,” Grace said. “I love my husband, but his mother drives me crazy. I think she feels I stole him from her.”

Victoria chuckled.

“Well, you sorta did, Grace. He’s her oldest son. He prefers to live in Nairobi instead of upcountry.”

“I’d possibly divorce him if he took me to stay upcountry,” Grace said, shuddering. “She would be a door away. Can you just imagine the drama that would ensue every day? I’ll keep us in Nairobi until I die, or she dies.”

Victoria reached over and squeezed Grace’s right hand.

“Stop worrying. You make me glad I don’t have a mother-in-law yet.”

“You will soon,” Grace said with a wicked smile. “Then you’ll come crying to me, I can’t wait.”

“Are you my friend?” Victoria asked with a teasing smile.

“Your very best one,” Grace said, just as Victoria’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. “And the owner of that mother-in-law is calling right now.”

“Stop it,” Victoria shushed her and got up to answer her phone.

“Vicky, it’s your mother.”

Victoria swallowed the rice in her mouth in a hasty gulp.

“Mom,” she said.

Grace’s eyes went wide, and she stuck her tongue out at her.

“Are you coming home this weekend?”

“Yes, with Cliff,” Victoria said. “Is everything all right?”

“I was hoping you would go shopping for a dress with me.”

“A dress?” Victoria asked, warning bells ringing in her head.

“Remember Jenny from the farm next to ours? She’s getting married, and her mother asked me to cut the cake for the couple.”

Victoria closed her eyes.

“That’s lovely, Mom.”

“Yes, I promised Jenny’s mom I would ask her the same for your wedding.”

And there it was…

Victoria dropped onto the couch.

“Anyone special we should meet?” her mother asked. “Clifford has Olive, but those two are always in the hospital. Vicky?”

“Mom,” Victoria said. “How about I take you for lunch tomorrow? We’ll go get that dress and maybe a suit for Daddy. You two will look fabulous for this wedding.”

“I know you’re changing the subject. I worry about you, Victoria. Living alone with no one to look after you. It’s not good.”

“I’m fine,” Victoria said. “I like living here.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve said that before,” Caroline Waina said. “All right, what time will you pick me up? Is your car working?”

“Cliff got it fixed for me,” Victoria said. “How about noon? Don’t be late, Mom. I’ll still need to get back to work.”

“I’ll be on time,” Caroline said. “Good night, Vicky.”

Her mother ended the call. Victoria sat on the couch, staring at her phone. She always felt so guilty after a call from her mother, which didn’t make sense. She worked a good job, paid for a nice apartment. Still, her mother felt that she had not fulfilled her goals.

According to her mother, at twenty-nine, Victoria was meant to have five children and a husband.

A glass of juice appeared before her, and she glanced up to find Grace smiling at her. Taking the glass, she sipped it, and the taste of vodka burned down her throat.

“I figured it was time to break out the big girls’ drinks,” Grace said, sitting next to her. “I know that look. Don’t worry, she’s just worried.”

Victoria let out a sigh and sat back on the couch.

“Well, I wish the concern came with a manual to navigate the insane dating scene we face now. In her days, it was so easy. Does she know men aren’t what they seem these days? I mean, good men are really hard to find. They’re all married, confirmed bachelors, or bona fide players. What is a girl supposed to do?”

“Drink?” Grace asked, holding up her glass for a toast.

Victoria stared at her.

Grace winked at her, and she chuckled. She touched her glass to Grace’s and took a healthy sip of her juice, appreciating the burn of vodka going down to her stomach. It warmed her up.

“To mothers and mothers-in-law,” Grace said.

“Yeah.” Victoria lifted her glass. “To me and the legions of women who want him too.”

Grace lifted her glass.

“Cheers to the one who actually caught him,” Grace said.

They laughed as the song restarted.

****

Victoria crawled into bed at around one in the morning. She had called a designated driver to take Grace’s car home.

As she settled in to sleep, Victoria wondered if she was not the problem. She spent too much time worrying about work. At home, she worried about what her mother wanted… never what she wanted.

What did she want?

If she could define what she wanted, life would get easier, she thought as she drifted to sleep.

****

Sunday afternoon, Victoria parked her car in the parking lot and got out with a groan. She was exhausted, and her clothes were dusty. Opening the trunk, she removed a kiondo filled with vegetables: her mother’s care package after the work-filled weekend.

She spent her weekend at her family’s farm in Kinoo, helping her father prep the greenhouse she purchased. Her father planted tomatoes in the greenhouse because her strawberry seedlings were far from purchase. Locking the car, Victoria walked to the stairs, ready for a hot shower and a cold drink. She hoped electricity had not run away, because that would put a damper on her plans.

When she got to her floor, she paused at the sight of Eric leaning on the railing outside her door.

Victoria tugged on her dirty T-shirt and wondered if she could pass him unnoticed. A serious urge to hide flooded her, and she almost took a step back, but he turned and saw her. She adjusted the weight on her back. She winced and continued to her house with slow steps.

“Hey,” she said when she got to her door.

Eric stared.

Feeling self-conscious, Victoria rummaged in her handbag for keys and almost dropped the heavy kiondo in the process. Eric took the basket from her.

“Were you in the shamba on a Sunday?” Eric teased.

Victoria nodded, finding her keys. She concentrated on opening her door. Eric preceded her into her apartment, hauling the kiondo into her kitchen. He placed the basket on the kitchen table and started checking what she brought home.

“Cabbage, carrots, onions, dhania.” Eric smiled and held up celery. “Do you also grow these?”

Victoria nodded.

“Did you lose your words?” Eric asked with a grin, taking a carrot to the sink. He turned on the water, washed it, and crunched into it.

“Hey,” Victoria said, frowning at him. “Why are you eating someone else’s carrots?”

“Apparently, it’s the only way to get you to talk.” Eric grinned at her, still crunching on her carrot. He leaned on the sink counter, chewing on the carrot with relish. “These are good, sweet.”

“Glad you approve,” she said, and stood in the small hall for a moment, amazed.

“Aren’t you going to close the door?” Eric asked when she kept standing at the entrance.

She laughed then, as he promptly bit into the carrot again. Closing the door, she dumped the keys on a small table closest to the door.

“You know, it’s rude to go digging into other people’s groceries.”

Eric grinned.

“You’re not other people, Victoria.”

“Still…”

“You look great,” Eric said.

Victoria touched her sticky T-shirt.

“Well, guess I don’t have to worry about making an effort anymore.”

“I like a woman at work,” Eric said. He held up his half-eaten carrot. “Want a bite?”

“No.” Victoria removed the headscarf she wore to cover her hair and pointed at him. “I need a shower. Don’t mess my kitchen.”

“You’re so bossy,” Eric said as she turned to head down the corridor to her room.

“I can help with the shower,” he called after her.

“You wish,” she replied, entering her bedroom, making sure she locked the door.

She was glad for the hot shower. It cleared her brain as nothing else could. She dressed in a light blue sleeveless blouse and a matching skirt. She held her hair in a ponytail at the top of her head and stood in the middle of her bedroom with a tired smile.

Truthfully, she was happy Eric came looking for her. She had thought about him all weekend, waiting for his call.

Victoria left her bedroom, eager to see his face again. She frowned when she did not find him in her living room. Entering the kitchen, she stopped when she found Eric grating carrots with expert speed. The kiondo was empty, her vegetables arranged on the counter.

Eric had chopped tomatoes, onions, and cilantro on the board.

“What are you doing?”

“Making lunch.” Eric pointed at the chair tucked under the small kitchen table behind her. “Sit there.”

“But…”

“Don’t argue,” Eric said, holding up a half-grated carrot. “I’ll make you crunch on this.”

“What kind of threat is that?” She scoffed. “I told you not to mess with my kitchen.”

“I’m making lunch,” Eric said. “Are all these vegetables from your parents’ farm?”

Victoria sank into the chair.

“Yes. Mom always packs a ton of vegetables for me to bring back. She thinks I don’t go grocery shopping.”

“I like your mom,” Eric said.

“How was your trip?” she asked.

“Lonely,” Eric said, glancing at her. “I wished you had come along.”

Victoria started to protest, but he continued, not giving her a chance.

“The wedding couple I was working for did a photo session near a waterfall. I had a great time working with light and shadows. The sun dances in and out of the trees, bouncing on the water. You have to catch it at the right angle. Otherwise, the shot is useless.”

Victoria smiled, watching Eric make a light carrot stew. He used leftover chicken from her fridge, moving around her kitchen as though he belonged. He talked about his work with love. She learned about lenses, light, and dark shadows, aperture, shutter speed…

Eric placed a plate of grilled chicken and carrot stew, with a slice of whole wheat bread, before her.

“Want orange juice with your meal?”

“I don’t think I have orange juice,” she said, taking the spoon he held out. She took a bite and smiled in bliss. Eric was a great cook. “Thanks for the food, Chef.”

Eric winked and went to her fridge. He came back with a bottle of white cranberry juice and two glasses. He sat across from her with no plate.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I ate lunch with the team I went with earlier,” Eric said. “I wanted to thank them for listening to me gripe.”

“You do complain a lot when you’re working,” Victoria said, taking another bite of the delicious chicken stew.

“I have to get the right shot. It was a fun trip, but most of all, I missed you,” Eric said, leaning his elbows on the table. “I came running here to see you, only to have you not be home. Do you know you look sexy carrying a kiondo, Victoria?”

Victoria blushed.

“Liar, I was sweaty and covered in dust.”

“Guess that’s my thing,” Eric said.

Victoria smiled, meeting his gaze.

He returned her smile, and her heartbeat sped up.

She had no defense against him at all.

****