slipped off his chair and walked out of the bar. The woman fell into step beside him.
“What’s a gorgeous man doing rejecting an attractive woman’s overtures?”
He turned up his collar, and shoved his hands inside his jacket pockets. The evening air had taken on a chilly note.
“Lady, you plan on stalking me?” The irritation in his tone hit home.
She stopped. “Suit yourself, grumpy sod.”
A smile washed across his face. He broke into a jog when a light drizzle fell from the grey sky.
When he got home, he changed into his tennis gear. On his way out, his mobile phone rang.
He snapped it open without checking the caller ID. “Kyle here.”
“Kyle, how are you?”
He almost groaned aloud. It was his wife’s mum. It had been a little while since he called Alero's parents. How do you interact with your in-laws when you are not chummy with their daughter?
“Good evening, ma. I hope you’re keeping well?” His parents-in-law insisted he called them Ma and Pa instead of their given names. He was accustomed to it.
“Yes, I’m keeping well. The only trouble is that we haven’t heard from you or our daughter for too many months.”
His chest tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re so sorry we haven’t been in touch. Work has been tough. How are Pa and the boys?”
The woman sighed. “The same excuse every time, Kyle. We long to hear your voices. Pa and the boys are well. And how’s my daughter? Is she there with you? I want to talk to her.”
Different excuses bobbed into his head. But he needed the perfect one to pacify the worried woman. “I’ll tell my wife to call you. She’s out of the house at the moment.”
“Is that so? My daughter doesn’t think it wise to speak to us. I hope you’re not giving her any trouble, Kyle?” Even though the question was said in jest, guilt gnawed his insides.
“Ma, you know I love your daughter. I intend to come to Warri in a month or so. Alero and I are going to send you some items. Give our love to everyone.”
The woman’s tone mellowed. “Aha! Thank you. I’ll tell Pa both of you’re coming to visit us in one month.”
“N-No, I said I have a project to carry out in Warri, and I intend to pop in to see you. Alero’s so busy, she can’t possibly get away at that time.”
“Oh, I see.” The disappointment in her voice was palpable. He had no clue where his wife was, how could he promise to fly her to visit her parents in one month?
“Don’t worry, Ma. I’ll give her your love.” Before the woman could respond, he disconnected the call.
Kyle stomped out of his apartment, and dashed down to the tennis court in the basement. There was always a paid player on hand to play with the residents.
He played for two hours. He lost three games but he kept at it. The only way he could get to sleep was if he tired himself out.
“Thank you, Cruz.”
“I had a great game today, Kyle. I must be getting better. Looking forward to our next game.”
≈≈≈
“Don’t bet on it,” Kyle said absently as he hurried off.
On Thursday, Kyle delayed calling Rev. Jones. He was nervous about today’s session. It was eleven in the morning.
He dialled the number, changed the appointment to six pm and ended the call. Rev. Jones accepted the change in schedule without protest. It helped that the retired priest did not give him a hard time.
The afternoon flew by. Before long, he stood on Rev. Jones’s doorstep. This time a fair complexioned handsome man came to the door. He looked older than Kyle.
“You must be Kyle,” he said, extending his hand. “Welcome. I’m Duncan. My friends call me Dune.” He was as tall as Kyle and had his father’s light brown eyes but his mother’s exuberant personality.
“Hello Duncan, good to meet you.” Duncan stepped aside, allowed him in and shut the door. “You can call me Dune," he repeated. “Dad says you’re a friend of the family.”
Really? A warm feeling eased its way into Kyle’s
Learning to Kill: Stories